Noon 20+

“Good Morning, Associate Scientist of Exobiology. Today you have: zero activities to participate in. Would you like to listen to music as you prepare for the day?”

You blinked wearily as the ship’s auto-computer opened the blinds to the galaxy’s blue sun you were currently flying through. You pushed off your blankets and moved to sit up.

“Go ahead with the music, computer,” You mumbled and headed to change. 

There wasn't a point in rushing. The trip to arrive at your destination would still take months. And there was no use for your knowledge until you actually landed on the planet. So your days were pointless for now.

You were on water rations until you arrived on planet Saiyan, so no morning wake up shower for you. Instead, you moved towards the counter that served as your ‘kitchen’. In reality, you just pulled various tablets from containers and added ‘rehydration solution’ droplets to them, and et voila instant food.

Munching absentmindedly on cinnamon toast, you moved to the wide window that showed the planetary system you were flying through on your way to planet Saiyan. Not that you were expecting an interplanetary battle outside but it was a little too zen in appearance. You were bored! You went on this expedition for some adventure and excitement, but it has let you down so far.

You saw something moving lazily on the horizon and yawned. “Oh look, a meteor.”

“Correction, Associate Scientist of Exobiology, that is not a meteor.”

You swallowed your next bite of toast quickly. “Well, what is it then?”

“Scanning,” the ship's computer responded. It was silent for a moment and then, “It is of unknown origin. There appears to be life aboard.”

Your palm slapped the quadruple paned glass. “Finally,” you whispered to yourself. “Something exciting.”

You ran to the hub of the ship you were on, tapping your wristband for comms. “Computer, wake up Jisung. I want to see him at the bridge immediately.”

Once at the hub, you paused to locate the object that was moving through space. It didn’t seem to be picking up speed so it must not be caught in any moon or planet’s orbit. That boded well. You changed direction, heading towards the bridge.

Felix was at the helm, covering the night shift for directing the ship. Or rather babysitting the ship’s computer. He was only there in case of emergency. Or in this case, you finding an unidentifiable object.

“Felix!” You shouted, making him jump out of his skin.

“What the hell?” He cursed, sending you a dirty look.

“Look sixty degrees northwest,” You commanded.

Felix turned the bridge’s captain’s chair in the direction and squinted. “What is that?”

“Exactly!” You exclaimed, doing an excited dance. 

“Please tell me you’ve found a black hole, otherwise I’m going back to bed,” Jisung whined. 

You grabbed Jisung’s shoulder with one hand and pointed obnoxiously with your finger at the flying object. “What the fuck is that?”

Jisung rubbed his eyes and blinked rapidly. “What the fuck is that?!”

Felix tapped on the captain’s chair and brought up a magnified video of the flying object. It was most definitely not a rock. 

Jisung sat down in one of the co-pilot chairs and did some quick calculations on the computer there. “It’s got to be manmade. It doesn’t move like it’s being propelled though.”

“Computer, tell them what you told me.”

“There appears to be a life form aboard,” The computer supplied.

“A what now?” Jisung demanded.

“Bring it in,” You said softly.

Felix shook his head. “I don’t think… I’m going to contact Chan.”

You shook your head, putting a hand on Felix’s arm. “As the assigned associate scientist of exobiology, I’m recommending that we bring that in as soon as possible. Jisung just confirmed it’s not natural and the ship said someone is in there.”

Felix pulled a face. “Yeah but--”

“Jisung, does it look like one of ours?” You asked, keeping your eyes on Felix.

“Not really,” Jisung admitted.

“Felix, bring it the fuck in.”

You bolted out of the bridge and moved towards the loading bay. You were practically gleeful. This was it. This was your big moment. You were going to discover an extraterrestrial, maybe the first of its kind. You hadn't even landed on Saiyan and here you were making a name for yourself. 

You stopped abruptly in front of the airlock to the loading connection. The antechamber was preparing to expand all its air and receive the foreign object. You watched with almost fevered anticipation as the working arm of the ship brought the object towards the loading connection and sanctioned it to its side. 

You tilted your head. You weren’t an astrophysicist like Jisung but it almost looked like a personal escape pod. Or a coffin. A space-worthy coffin.

“Warning. Associate Scientist of Exobiology, please be advised. There are suits available in the case of a malfunction of the airlock.”

“Yeah yeah, I don’t have time for that.” You tapped on your command watch and tapped it against the airlock console. “Just let me in, you stupid computer.”

“Warning. Associate Scientist of Exobiology, please be advised. The airlock is connected but--”

“I don’t care, I’ve given you the override, now open this damn door!” You shouted.

The airlock opened and you walked in trepidation. You were about to put your hands on alien technology. Maybe even an alien themselves. This was absolutely terrifying and exciting at the same time. 

“Uh, why are there flashing red lights in the loading bay?” Felix’s voice came from your watch.

“The ship is angry I’m in here without a suit,” You replied nonplussed.

“You should not be in there without a suit, what about the--”

“Decontamination initiated,” The ship’s computer warned before closing the doors to the ship behind you.

“Oh fuck,” You said, feeling the blood drain from your face.

“Goddamn it!” Felix cursed through the comms. “I’m going to use the captain’s override to stop the decontamination!”

You watched in panic as the red lights flashed and heard the decontamination solution fill the pipes above. You closed your eyes and feared for the worse.

“Decontamination halted,” the ship's computer announced.

“Oh thank Christ,” You breathed out a sigh of relief.

“No, thank Felix,” Felix corrected you.

You blew a kiss to the camera. “Thank you, Felix.”

You rubbed your hands together and made your way back towards the pod. “Now, to get this baby open.”

“Have you ever considered you might have an Alien moment?” Jisung’s voice came from your watch. “What if it’s a facehugger in there? Come on, be smart about this.”

“I’m about to discover a new race of beings, Jisung, shut the fuck up,” You grumbled.

You peered around but could not find a latch to open the pod. “Damn it, how do you open this thing?”

“I’m getting Bang Chan,” Felix announced.

Fuck, there was no way the captain was going to let you fiddle any longer with this pod or open it to discover a new alien. You had to do this before Bang Chan intervened.

“No one, I repeat, nobody can stop me!” You shouted, slapping a hand down on the pod.

There was a loud ‘shhh’ as something began to hiss out of the pod. 

“Felix, hurry!” Jisung said through the comms. “Something weird is coming out of the pod!”

You pressed yourself against the wall, out of the way of the questionable gas shooting forward. Then, for a split second, you saw an outline of a rectangle. And then it shot open, past you, lodging itself into the door. Your exit was now effectively blocked. 

Well, that didn’t bode well for you. Still, you turned off your comms. You didn't need anyone interrupting this momentous occasion.

Still, you found yourself creeping cautiously towards the pod. There was still the weird gas streaming out of the centre of the now-opened pod but as you began to get closer, you started to see exactly what--or rather who--was inside.

The being was humanoid. They were roughly six foot five, with two fingers and opposable thumbs. Their features were four eyes, one nostril and one mouth. They were built like wrestlers. An alien wrestler, but a buff humanoid nonetheless.

“Here goes nothing,” You muttered under your breath.

Your hands shook as you timidly pressed forward to touch the alien’s shoulder and give it a gentle shake. “Hello?” You whispered.

The alien’s eyes shot open, black sclera overpowered the bright, shocking neon blue that was its iris. Its voice rasped as it attempted to talk, guttural and deep. 

You raised your wristband close to the alien’s mouth in order for it to intake all the words it was saying. Enough language and it could convert it for you.

“...at last, I escape my prison,” was what you caught.

You smiled awkwardly and began to slowly move backwards. Your wristband also worked as a translator so the alien could understand you as well. 

“Prison?” You squeaked.

The alien cocked its head. “You are not one of my kind. Nor one of my followers.” It looked around. “Where am I?”

You cleared your throat. “You are aboard the Earth’s expedition ship Phoenix. I am--”

The alien grunted as it pulled itself out of the pod. It stretched its body and cracked its neck. “Earth? I’ve never heard of it. I truly have travelled far from my galaxy.”

You shook your head. “No, we’ve travelled into yours, I believe,” You said, clearing your throat. “We are on our way to the planet Saiyan.”

The alien cocked its head curiously. “Do you know who I am?”

You took another step back. “No. Our ship simply noticed that there was a life form in an unidentified object and--”

The alien tipped his head back and chuckled. That made you take another step back.

“I am the god of war and fertility. I am Changbin, the undefeated, the father of countless heroes. The wars I have created, the battles I have fought and one, beside my sons and daughters, are told of legend.”

“God of… fertility? And war? That’s an interesting combination,” You muttered.

Changbin nodded. “Of course. For I create life and take it away.”

Well, you couldn't fault his logic there.

“Of course,” you echoed him. 

Changbin looked around at the airlock curiously. “Do you have anything to consume? I am famished.”

“Yeah, let’s--”

Oh shit, the exit. “It seems that your dramatic escape from your pod has fucked up the doors,” You admitted with a wince.

Changbin buffed out his chest. “My strength is beyond your human comprehension, it seems.”

You moved over to the console and tapped it but it wouldn’t turn on. You frowned at the console pad. “I think it’s going to take a while for anyone to find us.”

Suddenly, the alien crowded you. You were pressed up against the plasteel wall. “You smell good, human.”

You swallowed dryly. “That’s odd. I’ve sweated thoroughly and haven’t taken a shower yet for a few spins of the local moon.”

You heard Changbin take in a huge whiff of you. “Your musk is appealing to this body.” You watched as two hands appeared high above your head. Changbin pushed his large body against yours even more. “Very appealing.”

“Uhhhhh…” You found that you were at a loss for words. “We’re not sure if our biology is compatible, sir.” You tried to put some distance between you and the alien with some formality. 

“I have a functioning penile and you have an orifice. What’s there to not work?” Changbin said lowly. 

You twirled around but that didn’t make anything better. The ‘I’m game’ smile on Changbin’s face was making you regret your decision to turn around. “We really shouldn’t.”

Changbin chucked your chin with a brush of the side of his rather large forefinger. “Are you saying no? When I was a God, I had my worshippers throw themselves into the chance to be with me.”

“I…am not saying no but it does not seem logical to--”

Changbin sank to his knees. “I have not touched another being in centuries,” the alien god lamented. Even so, that brought his head to your chest. His eyes remained on your breasts without a word and then sent a woeful look at you. 

You awkwardly patted Changbin on the head. “I am sorry for your loss but--”

Abruptly, Changbin shoved his face into your chest, using his hands to push your breasts together and he moaned loudly. He raised his head, pleading. “Please, human, allow me the honour of touching you skin to skin. I stir for you.”

You couldn't ignore the stirrings of your own: your nipples had become pert and goosebumps littered your skin. It had been a while for you too, stuck on this ship with limited contact. It’s not like you weren’t sympathetic to Changbin’s cause. 

You stared up at the ship's security feed and then touched your wristband to toggle it off. “I’m going to get into so much trouble for this.” You looked down at Changbin. “Go ahead.”

Changbin rapidly removed your clothing, leaving no time for his huge hands to touch your skin. “You are so soft, human,” Changbin mumbled as he rubbed his nose at the skin between your breasts.

“You’re just starving for contact,” You chuckled. 

Changbin shook his head adamantly. “I have slept with many of my race, but you, you are soft and plump and smell so heavenly…” 

The alien drew his nose down the centre of your body, his hands admiring the curves of your hips and ass and thighs. With an almost-feral growl, Changbin hefted your body up, his arms and shoulders supporting your legs and pushed your back up against the wall of the airlock. His nose continued to run along your inner thigh before he found the junction between your legs. 

You gasped and your hand dove into his hair. It was feather thin but pleasurable to tug on as his tongue licked your folds. He was an alien and yet he was extremely observant. He licked until he discovered the spots that gave you pleasure and then he applied just the right rhythm and pace that he had you tipped past an orgasm before your mind could catch up.

Changbin chuckled as he let your legs down slowly. “Seems you are inebriated off the pleasure I have gifted you, human.”

“I--” You licked your lips, willing your eyes to focus and your big brain to start working.

“I will still bring you to greater heights,” the alien promised.

He unwrapped the small loincloth that he had been imprisoned in and you shirked a little. “That--that’s not going to fit.”

Changbin smirked. “They all say that. And then discover they can do wonders when they are lying with me.”

You held out a hand, panting a little. Wait, why were you panting? “No, hold on. What--what have you done to me?”

“I see my pheromones have worked on you. That is good to know they affect humans if I am to commune with your kind.”

“God of fertility,” You said faintly.

“You learn quickly, human,” Changbin acknowledged.

You felt as your wetness was quite literally leaking down your thighs. Your lower half was literally weeping for this alien god. “That doesn’t mean your--”

You choked on your own saliva. His cock wasn’t completely alien. It was still in the shape of a penis with a long shaft and head. But that’s where the comparison ended. It was the same dusty blue colour that Changbin was, only it grew darker as you looked from where his cock connected with his body to the head of his cock. His cockhead was flared, bulging out to a thick shaft with dots of hard nubs along the shaft. You could only imagine what kind of sensations that cock would give inside of you--

You shook your head. “No, absolutely not.”

Changbin sat down on the floor, palms bracing on the shiny floor. “Come, human. I will let you take all the time you need.” 

When you did not move from your place against the wall, Changbin sent you those woeful eyes again. “Would you deny me more of your soft skin against mine?”

Your feet seemed to move on their own accord, hesitant at first and then you found yourself crawling between Changbin’s long, outstretched legs. The longer you stared at his cock, the more you found saliva flooding your mouth. Some escaped the side of your mouth as you studied it. Could you truly take that?

Changbin motioned with his chin. You crawled into his lap and put your knees on either side of his hips on the floor. Pressing your stomach against Changbin’s cock, you saw just how deep it would go into you. In what reality were you living in currently?

“Slowly, human,” Changbin encouraged you. “I do not wish to break you on the first day I am free of my prison.”

You glanced up at the alien god. “You never did say why you were imprisoned in the first place.”

“Maybe if you’re good and you bounce on me in a satisfying way, I will tell you my mythos,” Changbin smirked. 

You scoffed and then whined as Changbin wrapped his hands around your waist and raised you above his stiff cock. Slowly, but surely, your body adjusted and adapted, taking in the large cock. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as pleasure wracked through your body as you took the alien cock inside of you. You couldn't even get halfway down and yet you were panting and whining. 

“You’re taking me so well, human,” Changbin purred. “Are you ready to move?”

You nodded rapidly. If it felt that good with Changbin just entering you, surely anything else would send you above and beyond any pleasurable heights you have ever experienced.

Changbin slowly lifted your body up until his cockhead was barely still inside of you and then let gravity pull you down him again, hands hovering over your hips in case he had to help you. You let out a choked groan as the slow rhythm was everything.

“Changbin, Changbin, please,” You whimpered.

“Shhh, I’m here human, you’re doing fine,” Changbin reassured you. 

Each time one of his nubs ran along your g-spot, you shuddered delicately. Your hips began to move with impatience. “I need more!”

“Greedy little human, aren’t you?” Changbin chuckled.

The god of fertility increased the pace and that’s when you became fully cock drunk. Your hands braced against Changbin’s chest, nails curling into his dusky skin in an attempt to ground yourself but there was no helping your mind being consumed by need and pleasure.

You swallowed in an attempt to bring moisture back to your mouth. “I’m--I’m gonna come, oh my god, I’m going to come so fucking hard--what the fuck?!”

You screamed as your climax overtook you. You felt every inch of the pleasure that was Changbin’s cock and it almost made you blackout. “Oh--my--god.”

As your pussywalls clamped down on Changbin, everything changed.

In a second, you went from riding Changbin from above to his form completely encompassing yours. His hips drove against your body as he searched out his high. His eyes closed in his desperation to seek his pleasure. With one hand curved over your hip, holding your body close and the other on your thigh keeping you spread for him, Changbin fucked you into the airlock’s floor. 

Wordlessly, he grunted, spilling inside of you. You saw stars a second time through his orgasm, becoming a puddle on the floor as he rode his high. 

“Chang…bin…” You rasped.

Changbin caressed the side of your face. “You did wonderfully, human. Truly.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a week,” You groaned.

There was a loud screech of metal and then suddenly the airlock doors opened. Changbin was pulling out of you, sweeping you into one of his arms and stood up as if he was preparing for a battle.

“How dare you turn off your comms, turn off the cameras, and enter an airlock with a foreign species,” Bang Chan scolded you as he strode into the room. “I will tan your hide once I get a hold of you.”

Changbin let out a predatory and possessive growl that echoed throughout the airlock. Bang Chan’s mouth dropped and his eyes widened at the naked alien that towered with you cradled to his chest.

You pressed your lips inward so as not to laugh. That was not going to help your situation. “Hey Cap,” You waved weakly.

“Associate Scientist, you--” Bang Chan licked his lips in apprehension. “You have some explaining to do.”

Changbin looked down at you curiously. “Is this man your mate?”

You shook your head. “No but he is the one in charge of this ship.”

“Tell him that he’s tiny for a leader,” Changbin murmured.

This time you were unable to hold back your laughter. “Chan, meet Changbin, the god of war and fertility.”

Bang Chan still looked unimpressed. “Can we have this discussion with clothes on?”

A Place for the Placeless the letters curled around the red and white stripes of a circus tent, you continued reading, the name of the circus The Midnight Menagerie was bold in the center. The rest of the text on the bottom of the page detailed information about auditions, looking specifically for a contortionist. You peeled the page off the wall.

The flier stared at you from your refrigerator for weeks. You still have no idea what possessed you to take it from the alley, or to tape it to your refrigerator. The audition date was rapidly approaching and you weren't sure why you were even considering going. Sure, you were trained as a contortionist, but that was years ago. You much preferred ballet, which is what the jobs you had been auditioning for for months have been.

Every so often, when you spot the flier from your living room, you get on the floor and see if you can still do any of your old moves. Luckily, you never quit dancing so it comes back easily, like riding a bike.

"Am I really going to do this?" You wondered out loud to yourself, staring at the flier when you just came into the kitchen for a snack. The audition was in two days. Did you want to be a circus performer? That would pretty much pigeon hole your career. What career? Some cynical part of your mind echoed. You hadn't had any work in months, you could barely pay your rent anymore.

A Place for the Placeless the flier boasted from your refrigerator. That would be nice, to feel like you belong somewhere. Maybe you could actually meet someone besides the catty girls you see at every audition these days.

You paced the floor of your kitchen for so long you were scared you might wear a rut into the floor. You would need a new routine, one that shows off the tricks you haven't practiced in years. What would impress a circus? Who else would be there?

You sighed and began to construct what might be your most desperate idea yet.

You were late, well, almost late. Your shoes smacked the pavement as you ran through the city, lungs burning as you approached the small artist space where the Midnight Menagerie was holding auditions today.

The room was dimly lit when you entered, the person who sat behind the table was settled in the shadows. You squinted to see him, his long dark hair falling over his face as he lifts a hand to greet you.

"Small group," he clicked his tongue. "I was hoping for more options." You look around the room and realization hits you, there is no one else here. "You'll still have to audition, can't just give it to you."

"Of course." You nodded, still feeling a bit excited about the idea of not having to deal with a full casting call. The music for your routine began, which was strange because you didn't remember giving it to anyone. The tricks are difficult and you're still rusty, but you manage to make your way through your routine.

"Impressive." The man stated simply. "Do you have anything else?"

"Uh.." You panicked. "This is what I prepared."

"Not to worry." The man waved his hand and music you had never heard before began to play. "You may improvise." You didn't even have time to wonder how the music was playing, or who else may be here, before you began to dance. You weren't even sure where this determination came from, it's not like you really wanted to join the circus. Thoughts ran through your head about so many things, what moves to do next, what you did wrong in your life to get you to this point.

The man raised his hand and the music cut off abruptly, "I've seen enough."

He was going to cut you, he was going to cut you and you were the only one here.

"I would love for you to join us."

"Welcome my dear," the man from your audition greeted you at the entrance, "to the Midnight Menagerie!" He sweeps his arm behind him, opening the door for you. Upon entering, your greeted by a large empty dimly lit room. You shifted uncomfortably as you waited for him to lock the door behind you. "I'd like you to meet Soonyoung," he said, suddenly beside you. "He will be your guide and you will be working together in your act." He pressed lightly on the small of your back, urging you to walk forward.

He guided you into a smaller, but still quite large, office off of the open space. There was a man waiting inside the office, seated in a small chair next to the ornate desk. The man who you assumed to be the ring leader snapped his fingers and Soonyoung rose from his chair and shuffled over to the two of you.

The first thing you noticed about Soonyoung was his eyes, they were white, pure white, no pupil or anything. Almost like a void. The second thing you noticed about Soonyoung was the makeup. It was probably once very intricately detailed clown-like makeup, but now it was streaked with sweat and worn away with long term wear. If you were being completely honest, Soonyoung scared you a bit.

"Say hello." The ring master whispered to you. You took a step toward Soonyoung, he was quite a bit taller than you, and had a build that you knew would be good for lifts.

"Nice to meet you…" You held out your hand for him to shake.

"He probably won't shake your hand." The ring leader said flatly from behind you. "But he will show you around and then to your quarters for you to get settled. He moved to sit behind his desk, "I have work to do, Soonyoung return to me when you're finished."

Soonyoung took your trunk from you and started walking toward the door. He showed you to the main performance space, there was the classic three ring circus set up with rows and rows of bleachers designed to give everyone the best view of the show. You wandered over to the platform closest to you and did a few pirouettes, the surface was nice for turning and you couldn't see there being an issue with dancing here.

You turned back to where Soonyoung was standing, face void of any emotion, waiting for you. Walking toward him, he turned on his heel and continued down the corridor. The building the circus was housed in was not unlike a maze, you weren't sure how you were ever going to confidently know your way around.

Soonyoung was quite a ways ahead of you, you could still see him, but you were taking your time. If you were going to live here you would like to try and remember at least where the bathroom was. While you were mapping everything out in your mind you felt an odd sensation, like something was pulling you toward the floor. You fell to the ground with a clatter. Soonyoung turned toward you and you could hear him run toward you and stomp something out before helping you up.

He tilted his head at you.

"I'm..okay." You told him awkwardly. He nodded slowly. He points at his mouth and hums a tune lowly and then grabs you by the arm and continues down the corridor.

You let out a scream of frustration, you had been trying to make a routine with the prop, a giant golden cage, work for the entire afternoon. The ringleader had told you that you needed a gimmick and to make it work. However, an entire afternoon of falling off the cage and attempting to do your contortion tricks inside of it was proving to be what felt like your demise.

At present, you were laying on your back underneath the cage, staring up at the top. Your first show was tomorrow and you had absolutely nothing. Absentmindedly, you thought about what might happen if you just laid here like this for your act. You laughed to yourself.

Suddenly, someone's face was in your line of sight. Your eyes flicked over your new company, Soonyoung was stood over you, bent at the waist. His face was blank, but his body language betrayed curiosity.

"I can't think of a single thing for our routine." You informed him. His head tilted to the side before he straightened up to look around the cage. You watched as he explored the perimeter of the cage, his head moved with his exploration. Eventually, he grabbed the parallel bar and hoisted himself up, he kicked his legs over the bar and hung upside down. He pulled himself back up an experimented with different ways to get on and off of the bar. "Why do you know how to do that stuff?" You wondered out loud.

He gestured for you to join him. You rolled your body over the bar and kicked your legs over it, joining in hanging upside down. He kicks down from the bar and takes your body in his arms and effortlessly lifts you down bridal style. He spins you around a few times before returning you to your feet. "That could work.." You whispered trying to keep from blushing. Something about his touch is electric.

You sit on the floor, still under the cage, and begin writing in the notebook you brought with you. You were lost in thought so you didn't see where Soonyoung was for a few moments. His fingers wrapped around your ankle, you look up at him, he was on his hands and knees, staring at you. You furrowed your brow at him, you couldn't make yourself be scared of him. He pulled you to him by your leg and crawled over you so that you were face to face. He put a finger to his lips, you stared at him wide eyed as you heard someone slamming around just outside the main room.

You thought about the moment that Soonyoung protected you from what was happening for the rest of the day until you fell asleep. When you woke up the morning of the show all you could see were his vacant eyes in your head.

Soonyoung was already in your dressing room when you entered that afternoon. He was standing in the middle of the room, waiting for you. He pointed at the rack of costumes provided for you. You moved to it quietly and sorted through the various leotards and bodysuits.

"They're beautiful." You commented, knowing Soonyoung wouldn't respond. You pick one of the leotards off the hanger and draped it over your body, eyeing if it would fit in the floor length mirror. Nodding to yourself you moved to sit at the vanity to start your makeup. Soonyoung stared over your shoulder as you tried to figure out what type of look you were going for.

Once your makeup was done you turned to Soonyoung. "Do you need yours redone?" You asked. He stared at you blankly. You got up from your chair, grabbed his arm, and pulled him to sit on the vanity. You took a cloth and moved toward him. He shook his head frantically. "I can't take it off? He shook his head slowly.

You put the cloth back on the vanity. Curiously, you pull out your face paints and begin to apply makeup over his old makeup. He allowed you to do this, this was somehow the closest you had ever been to his face despite choreographing an entire routine with him the day before. His eyes looked just like normal eyes, the iris and pupil were just gone. It was unsettling to say the least.

You did your best to match the makeup you could see on his skin and he looked refreshed at the end of it. You turned to your vanity and grabbed the leotard from where you slung it over the back of the chair. Slinking behind the changing partition in the room you wondered if Soonyoung could truly see you. He must be able to in some sense, but you weren't sure how. You shimmied into the leotard that somehow was the correct size, the rhinestones were beautiful and it fit you like a glove.

You emerged into the open space of your dressing room and Soonyoung grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze before leading you up to the main performance space.

You woke up with a start the morning of your second show at the Midnight Menagerie. The show from the night before left you energized and excited for what comes next. You stretched your arms over your head, your sore muscles made you feel stiff. Gathering your items for your shower, you hummed the music that accompanied your routine to yourself.

Soon, the shower sputtered to life and rained lukewarm water over your head. You could hear someone shuffling through their own washing in the shower stall next to yours, you continued to hum. Although you were feeling excited about your success last night, you learned rather quickly that you need to keep alert around here, humming the song was a good way of making sure the person next to you would know if something happened to you. Eventually, they joined you in humming the music.

They left the shower room before you, leaving you in the silence of the running water and your own thoughts. Every time you closed your eyes you saw Soonyoung's vacant ones behind your lids. He is some how in tune to your every move despite the clouds over his irises. You needed to find out what was going on.

After you were dressed and you braided your hair you ventured down the hallway to your dressing room. Your soft voice carrying the same song as before alerted the occupant of the room to your arrival. You knew it was Soonyoung without having to see his face, his white purple hair and his stature gave him away. He turned to you as he heard you enter.

Your humming stopped abruptly, the silence in the room deafening, but all you could focus on was his eyes. They were brown.

"Soonyoung?" You asked hesitantly. He nodded.

"That's me." His voice crackled with lack of use. You could tell he didn't quite recognize you and that he hasn't spoken in a very long time.

"My name is Y/N…" You ventured.

"Y/N…" He whispered, tasting your name in his mouth. His voice was different than you expected, softer. "I'm your partner for your act, right?" He tilted his head with the question.

"Yes," you move past him to sit at your vanity. "Do you remember anything?"

"Yes, I think so." He nodded and moved to perch on your vanity. It all felt strange, like you had done this before but not quite. Which you figured was true enough. You glanced up at his face, he was looking down at you, the calculations present on his face. You had never seen him so expressive before, which may be the opposite of what a clown should be. You liked him better this way, expressive and human.

He watched as you pulled your makeup out of the basket you kept it in, lining up each product in the order in which you will apply it.

"Got a light?" Soonyoung asked, you looked back up at him as he placed a cigarette between his lips. You dug through the basket again and pulled out a book of matches. The match sparked to life as you struck it against the matchbox, you held the flame close to the end of his cigarette until you heard the sizzle it catching fire. "Thanks." He smiled, taking it between his fingers.

"No worries, I didn't know you smoked." You offered, sinking back into your chair.

"Me either." He laughed. "Box was in my pocket." Despite the ruined makeup, Soonyoung radiated joy when he smiled.

"How did you end up here?" You asked, starting on your makeup. He took a long drag and blew the smoke into the air above his head.

"I'm not sure I remember." He admitted. "I don't remember much about my life before, and I don't remember anything before you came." The confession punched you straight in the gut. "All I know is that He gives me a place to stay and an opportunity to perform."

"You were a performer before coming here too?"

"Yeah, we all were, right?" He taps ash onto the floor. "I don't remember what exactly it was I was doing, but I know I love to dance."

"Me too." You smile sadly.

"I wish I could remember what you look like when you perform." He smiled at you. He suddenly sat up straighter and began kicking his feet in the air where they dangled just seconds before. "Maybe I can tonight! I remember how to speak, so maybe I can actually see your act!" His sudden excitement made you feel almost giddy. You smile at him as he takes another, much more excited drag, of his cigarette.

"We don't really know each other, why are you so excited?" You asked, the whisper of a tease in your tone.

"Because," he looked down at you seriously now, "I know how performing with you made me feel. I was desperate to break out of whatever spell he has on me." You were taken aback by his words, you were under the impression that he didn't know what was going on when the ringleader had him possessed.

"You know he has a spell on you?" You asked, barely above a whisper.

"That's what I assume it is, and finally, I've woken up."

"I…I hope you stay awake." You admit. You like this version of Soonyoung, open, excitable.

"Me too." He smiled so widely his eyes almost closed. You finished the last few touches of your makeup and stood to face him.

"Let's fix that makeup." You smiled back. "I have no idea what you did before me."

"Let it look like this." He laughed. His legs parted to allow you to stand between them to get closer to his face. Soonyoung you learned in this moment had a habit of looking at you like you hung the stars in the sky. You swiped your brush across his face, leaving behind the white face paint you were used to seeing him in and he stared at you almost lovingly. Like he credited you with waking up.

"Stop looking at me like that." You nudge his shoulder.

"Like what?"

"Like I saved you."

"You did, I think." He insisted.

"What are you talking about?" You took a step away from him.

"The first thing I remember in years is the way you sound when you're humming in the shower." He searches your face. "I heard you this morning." As soon as his words hit you his eyes began to cloud over and he was gone.

His eyes were cloudy again. His eyes haven't been brown in days. You stared at him as he stared blankly ahead, waiting for your act to be introduced. You don't think you could go back to this version of him after meeting the real Soonyoung. You barely heard the ring master introduce you before Soonyoung was grabbing your hand and walking out into the light with you.

You straighten your posture, turning on your showmanship for the crowd. Soonyoung leads you around the open room, your outfit sparkling in the lights, until arriving at the ring with a large golden cage. You climb inside and get into position, waiting for the music to begin.

Even while performing, you can't get the image of his vacant eyes out of your head, it didn't help that there were parts of your choreography that you had to look at them. Looking into his eyes like this, it made you uneasy in a way you couldn't stomach.

You forgot to spot your turns. You had been dancing since you were two-years-old and you forgot to spot your turns. You fall with a flourish but you still manage to land with your weight on your hip. Soonyoung rushed to you as the lights cut out. You could tell that he was trying to break out of his trance, his eyes trying to clear. There was screaming somewhere in the distance.

"Get up, you're coming with me." The gruff voice of the ring leader rang in your ear.

He threw you into Soonyoung's chair after he dragged you from the main room. You looked around for Soonyoung himself, to no avail. "I've dismissed him for now. My issue at present is with you." He hissed.

"What did I do?"

"What did you do?" He loomed over you. "You made us look like fools!"

"I fell." You turned up your nose, trying to feign confidence.

"We don't make mistakes like that around here."

"What is this really about?" You sneered.

"Listen here you little bitch," he leaned forward and placed his hands on the arms of the chair. "We don't make mistakes and I am starting to think you might not be what we're looking for around here."

"Soonyoung seems to like me."

"What makes you think Soonyoung has any say in what happens here." He chuckled darkly. "Soonyoung can't even speak unless I allow it." He spins the chair around and dumps you onto the floor. "And I suggest you do the same, little bird." He stalks toward you and kicks the hip you fell on earlier. "You mean nothing to Soonyoung, and you can't leave."

"I'm your only act," you wince. "You need me."

"Precisely why you can't leave. You're a star." He moves to sit behind his desk. "A bird in a guilded cage is still a bird." He slams a replica of the cage from your act on the surface of his desk. "Remember that, you may go."

"Is something bothering you?" Soonyoung asked tentatively from his usual perch on your vanity. Something in his tone squeezed your heart, you felt bad for icing him out a bit after the events of the night previous. Your eyes bore into the reflection of yourself in the mirror in front of you, not wanting to make him any more suspicious than he already was.

"I'm fine." You muttered before moving to apply more mascara. You could feel his eyes, brown and warm, as he tracked your movements, he observed the delicate way you held the makeup and the concentration you typically did not have on days he was able to join you for your pre-show routine. Wordlessly, he slid off the table and moved to stand behind your chair.

His makeup was streaked with sweat, and maybe tears, the darker facepaint around his eyes tracking down his face. He made eye contact with you in the mirror and you knew you had no chance to lie to him anymore. His eyes stayed trained on yours as he moved closer to your neck, for a terrifying moment you thought he might kiss you there. The only sound in the room for several moments was the rhythm of your breaths as they mingled together.

Soonyoung closed the gap and nuzzled his nose into the flesh of your neck. You watched as his eyes fluttered closed, inhaling before his breath fanned over your skin. He stayed there. inhaling and exhaling, for several moments. The moment seemed to drag on forever and you were frozen waiting to see what he did next. His eyes snapped open and reconnected with yours in the mirror, his pupils were blown.

"What did he do to you?" His voice rattled through you, filled with gravel and malice that wasn't there moments ago. You shook your head. "You smell like fear." He informed you. "So, what did he do to you?" Something about his commanding tone and the way he could identify your fear made you all the more nervous.

"It's nothing, Soonyoung." You croaked, the timidness of your tone surprising even yourself.

"There's no need to be scared of me…" He nuzzled back into your neck. Suddenly, it was all too much. He was too close, or not close enough, his makeup was smearing on your neck.

"I'm not." You assured him, with more conviction. You stood out of your chair suddenly, knocking Soonyoung back. He scrambled back, almost as if he was suddenly aware of what had just happened. His eyes were still warm and brown and Soonyoung so you knew he was aware and lucid, but smelling someone's fear is intimate. He stared back at you curiously, unsure what you were doing out of your chair. "You need your makeup fixed, sit." He nodded at you and sunk into your chair.

You rifled through your makeup and fished out your face paint. Turning around, you found Soonyoung staring up at you, his eyes round. "Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like I'm fragile."

"You're not, and I'm not looking at you like you are." He informed you, his eyes still sparkling. You dip your brush into the white face paint and begin to pack it onto his cheeks. You began to grow frustrated with the angle you have to work with. You attempt to switch the way you are painting onto his face, to no avail.

"Can I try something?" You huffed. Soonyoung nodded and you wasted no time, you climb into his lap and cage his hips with your thighs. You begin to paint the details onto his face as his hands hesitantly laid on your hips. The silk of your dressing gown cooled his sweaty palms.

A smile played at your lips as his eyes wildly looked everywhere, except you. You weren't aware you had that effect on him. His fingers began toying with the bunched fabric, the threads rubbing together under his fidgeting.

"I'll get called back soon," he whispered to the ceiling.

"So sit still and let me work." You replied simply. His fingers stilled for a moment as he dared to sneak a glance at your face. Your brows were knit in concentration, white face paint smudged across your cheek. His hand floated up to cradle you, thumb swiping your cheek bone gently. You leaned into his touch as you finished the last bit of his makeup, the nose. He hummed at the clear indication you enjoyed his gentle touch.

"Turn around, finish your makeup, I'll be here until I can't be."

You nodded and turned on his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist as you began to apply blush to your cheeks. Soonyoung watched you over your shoulder in the mirror as you delicately applied the detailed makeup for your act. The feathers were Soonyoung's favorite part, they made you look like a hummingbird. He missed hummingbirds.

Suddenly, he went rigid behind you. You watched in the mirror as the clouds returned to his eyes, blocking out the beautiful brown irises. Sighing, you climbed out of his lap and took his usual spot on your vanity. Wordlessly, Soonyoung rose from your chair and exited the room without looking back. It was stupid to cry over the inevitable, but you did anyway.

Soonyoung stuck his cigarette between his lips and stretched his arms over his head. You eyed him curiously as you run your brush through your hair.

"Are you intending to spend your only day off with me, Soonyoung?"

"Would you mind if I did, Birdie?" He teased. Despite the light tone of the question, your blood ran cold.

"Why did you call me that?" You turn to him. He was perched on your vanity, just like any other day. He stared at you, taking his cigarette between his fingers.

"I'm..not sure." He shared earnestly. "Do you hate it?"

"Coming from you…I don't think I do." You smiled at him. He smiled back. He watched your smile falter slightly. You eyed him warily. "You're not doing this just to keep tabs on me, are you?"

"What?" His bottom jutted out like you had just broken his heart. "Look at me, you'd know if I was just here to report your hair brushing routine."

"I'm doing more today than brushing my hair!" You smacked his arm with the back of the hair brush.

"Ow!" He dramatically held his arm. "Careful, or you won't have a partner for your act!" He took a long drag of his cigarette, giving you a moment to study him carefully. His jawline was sharp with the inhale, his eyes closed, his eyelashes falling across his skin. Face stained with the face paint from when you did his makeup the night before.

"Do you ever take off your makeup?"

"I'm not supposed to." He shook his head. "I have to keep up appearances."

"Do you think I could…" You wet a towel with some of your cleanser and look up at him. He nodded. Gently you wash the makeup off of his face. With every pass of the cloth his features became less and less muddled. His cheekbones sat high, in combination with his squared off jaw his face was angular but somehow soft at the same time. His lips were full, his cupid's bow beautifully arched. "Beautiful." You breathed.

His eyes fluttered open, he looked up at you from where he was sitting. His eyes were wide, as if he hadn't realized how close you were to him before now. His gaze flickered to your lips, only for a second before you were kissing him. It was as if kissing him broke something within Soonyoung, his hands were all over you, he kissed back hungrily.

"I haven't," he broke away from your lips, "I haven't kissed someone in so long." He breathed.

"That's okay, as long as it's okay that it's me your kissing." You chased his lips.

"Of course," he pecked your mouth, "I've been wanting to." Butterflies exploded in your stomach at his simple confession, you knew there was something between you but just hearing his confirmation made you feel girlish. He raked his fingers through your hair, "you should wear it like this more often, it's pretty." Heat rose in your cheeks, you knew you were blushing.

He smiled and leaned back in to kiss you again. His lips slotted between yours, his hunger for you returning. Hands found your hips as he pulled you closer, spreading his legs so you could stand between them as he continued to sit on your vanity. Your fingers splayed on his thighs as his tongue swiped against your bottom lip and barely waited for you to grant him entrance before pushing into your mouth. Soonyoung tasted like tobacco and something sweet, figures that a clown would taste like candy. One of his hands left your hip to grip your long hair.

He pulled you back from him by your hair, it wasn't exactly painful but it wasn't a comforting tug. Your eyes fluttered open to see Soonyoung staring past you in horror. Your stomach dropped as you saw him tensed and the clouds attempting to return to his eyes.

"No…" You could barely hear your own voice, it sounded like you were underwater. You watched Soonyoung's lips form I'm sorry before the clouds completely covered his brown irises. returning them to the blank white slate. Soonyoung pushed you to the ground and you watched as he slunk out the door, past the man standing just a foot inside your dressing room.

He walked toward you, squating next to where you were slumped on the floor.

"I'll deal with you later," he moved the hair out of your face, so you could see him. "Don't ever try this shit again." With that, he swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

"I could hurt you, I could kill him." The ring leader growls at you. "You're stupid for thinking you could sneak around with him like this."

"What are you talking about?" You call from your vanity.

Sleep did not come easily to you after the events of your day off yesterday. You never knew when the ring leader would come for you, or what he was going to do. However, you have long realized the best way to protect yourself, and in some ways Soonyoung, was to pretend you didn't care. Of course, you did care, and you were very scared almost every minute.

"Don't play dumb." He seethed. "Do not touch him, do not think of him."

"I'll do as I please."

"You will not." He brought his hand back and landed a smack to your cheek. It stung and the metal of his rings cut through your skin. "There is nothing waiting for him, no one would know if he lived or died. So I suggest you keep your mouth shut from now on and keep to yourself." He wiped the blood from your cheek. "You don't want blood on your hands, do you little bird?"

You couldn't even cry, not in front of him. Moreover, you were shocked at the boldness of his methods. You never expected him to hit you, or threaten to kill Soonyoung. You shook your head.

"That's what I thought." He took your hair brush and smashed the mirror on your vanity. "I didn't want it to have to come to this, you're talented, you bring in a nice crowd. I'd like to keep you."

You looked at the broken bits of the mirror all over your makeup.

"Get ready, you have a show to do."

You let yourself cry once he was gone, you couldn't do your makeup with glass everywhere and no mirror. Soonyoung would be here soon and he could help you.

Except, Soonyoung never came. You waited for as long as you could but he never showed up. You could only cry until it was time for the show to start. You kept your hair down for the show.

Soonyoung didn't look at you when you joined him backstage. He once again only stared straight ahead. He led you out onto the floor once you were announced. Your outfit and the tears still on your cheeks sparkled in the light. Soonyoung didn't miss a beat in your routine, he even kept you on track at times.

His eyes remained clouded over, but you knew he could tell something was wrong. In the rests in your act he reached out to caress your hair. He ran his hands through it several times. His face remained stoic but his movements became frantic and choppy.

"Stop looking at me like that." You whispered through gritted teeth. You could not handle him being in this state yet he still seemed to care for you. How were you to know if it was a trick from the ring leader or not. He lifted you above his head without another pass at your hair.

The routine was done to perfection on the surface, for all the audience knew he was supposed to do all of that, but as a performer that had been working with him for months you knew he was not okay.

Once the two of you were backstage he held your face in his hands. He did nothing else, he did not speak. However, his brown eyes blinked into view for a fraction of a second before he was gone.

The cool water splashed on your face, shocking your senses. The soap bubbled in your hands and you scrubbed it into your skin, removing the rest of the makeup on your skin. Eyes closed, you thought over the performance. Soonyoung's eyes were white and cloudy but clearly he was able to see through it, at least a little bit, considering he noticed the new streak of white in your hair before you did. You would be lying if you said you understood what was happening lately.

Blindly you grabbed your towel and patted your face dry. When you opened your eyes you nearly screamed, Soonyoung was standing over your shoulder, visible in the mirror. He held a finger to his lips and disappeared down the hallway. You quickly gathered your things and followed in the direction he went.

You found him in the shower room, two of the showers were already on and he was turning the faucet of the third and final one on. When he emerged you could see his eyes were brown again. The showers were filling the room with steam, making his already sweat soaked makeup look worse. He moved toward you, backing you into the door behind you, closing the distance between your bodies he reached behind you and turned the bolt lock.

"Soonyoung…what's going on?" You whispered, a bit disappointed that he didn't take the opportunity to kiss you.

"Can't talk against the door, Birdie." He rasped, his eyes flicked down to where his body pressed against yours, seemingly realizing how close you were just then. "C'mere." He pulled you to the middle shower stall by the tie on your dressing robe.

"You can't get in the shower in your clothes, they'll get ruined." You insisted, your eyes taking in his costume. His eyes flickered with something akin to excitement when yours returned to them.

"Take 'em off me then."

You blinked at him a few times before nodding, your shaking hands reaching to undo the ruffled collar around his neck. His hands found their place on your hips, wearing circles into your hip, the silky fabric of your robe separating your skin from his. You let the collar flutter to the ground as your hands move to the buttons on the front of his shirt. One by one each button is undone and revealing a new swath of skin. You peel the shirt from his shoulders, leaving him shirtless in front of you. Your fingers trailed the hard ridge of his muscles, you knew he was strong, considering he lifts you with ease during your act, but you never imagined that this is what was hiding underneath his shirt.

"Pick up the pace, we don't have all the time in the world." He sighed, wishing he could relish in your touch and be in this moment with you forever. A glint of metal hanging from his nipple caught your eye, you flicked it in retaliation to his words. Soonyoung stifled a moan.

"Freak." You whispered.

"Think about where you are." He looked down at you as you began to fiddle with his pants. "Did you think I wasn't?"

"Well, not like that." You slipped your fingers in the waistband of his pants. "Besides how would you remember?"

"Too far." He growled, catching your hands and tearing them away. He moved quickly to the tie of your dressing gown. "I know how you make me feel, isn't that enough?" He tore the robe from your body, leaving you bare in the middle of the room. His eyes raked down your body, you squirmed under his gaze. "Beautiful." He whispered. Quickly, his pants were off and you tried to look anywhere but where his cock was stiff and leaking.

He pushed you into the shower stall and crowded you against the wall under the warm water. His lips found your neck, close to where he nuzzled his nose just a few days ago. It felt like a lifetime ago.

"Are you just trying to fuck me, Soonyoung?" Your voice came out more timid that you meant it to. Your hands found purchase on his biceps.

"No," he breathed into your neck, goosebumps rising where his saliva was coating your skin. "But I'll do that too if you'd like."

"What do you need to talk about?"

"You need to get out of here." He sighed pulling back to look at you. "He's trying to turn you into another servant." His fingers ghosted over your legs, heat pooled in your belly. "Someone like me."

"How do you know?" Your voice quivered as one of his hands cupped your breast and gave an experimental squeeze.

"Your hair, that's how it starts." He buried his face in the crook of your neck and pinched your nipple. "It's turning white, it started after he threatened you." He used his hand not busy with your breast to slowly spread your legs apart slightly. His fingers drag through your folds lightly. "Wet." He comments simply.

"How do you know he threatened me?" You tried not to moan at the soft strokes of his fingers.

"I was there, lover." He watched your face as you tried to contain yourself. "You didn't see me, and he didn't know I was lucid, but I was there." He pressed the pad of his middle finger to that delicious bundle of nerves, you squirmed. "It took everything in me to not break the illusion then, I wanted to rip his throat out with my teeth for talking to you that way." His fingers continued their ruminations through your cunt.

"Why," you whined as he dipped his fingers shallowly into your entrance and leaving just as quickly. "Why didn't you?"

"I need him to think he still has me." His thumb began circling your clit. "If I jump too early you can't escape." He increased the pressure of his fingers, your hips sputter and the coil in your stomach winds itself tighter. "I need you out of here."

"Come with me."

"No." He watched your eyes roll as he suddenly slips two fingers inside of you. "It's too late for me. I know too much, he'd send someone after me." His fingers slide in and out of you, sometimes pressing into the spot that drove you crazy with ease.

"And he won't send anyone for me?" You began to buck your hips, riding his fingers slowly.

"Doubt it, unfortunately you aren't first and you're probably not the last." His other hand moves from your breast to wrap around his cock. You watch as he works you close to your release and pumps his own length, fucking you with his hand and fucking himself with the other.

The visual was all too much, you squeezed your eyes shut and felt yourself tumble over the edge. Soonyoung's hand was off his cock and clamped over your mouth as your orgasm took over. He continued to fuck his fingers into your core as you rode it out.

"Shh, be a good girl and be quiet for me." He cooed. As you began to come down you cracked your eyes open. Soonyoung was close to your face, his makeup almost completely washed away. Slowly, he removed his hand and replaced it with his mouth, he tasted like a mixture of sweat and the water pouring out of the shower head. His lips were soft and they moved in sync with yours. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you parted your lips to allow him to explore your mouth.

It was you who pulled away first, "fuck me, Soonyoung, you said you would."

"Will you let me help you escape?"

"Yes."

He hoisted you up effortlessly, your back against the shower wall and your legs around his waist. He used the wall and one of his hands to hold you in place and used the other hand to line himself up with your entrance. He eased you onto his cock slowly. The stretch felt delicious as he bottomed out and returned his hand to your thigh. You felt his fingers digging into your skin but you didn't care. Not in the slightest.

"Are you okay, Birdie?"

You couldn't help but moan at the question. His hand returned to its place over your mouth as he began to fuck up into you. You felt every inch of him sliding in and out of your soaked cunt. You draped your arms over his shoulders, one hand raking your nails over the expanse of his back, the other tangling in his hair.

His eyes were wild, boring into yours. "You feel perfect, I knew you would." He grunted quietly. His fingers were digging into your skin, at your thigh and on your cheek. The water was still running over your bodies. You felt so full, a fullness you hadn't felt in a long time.

Soonyoung clearly hadn't felt the warm embrace of a cunt around his cock in a long time either, he began desperately pounding into you, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "Cum with me, please, I need it." He begged. You hadn't realized how quickly your second orgasm was approaching until you heard the whine in his voice. You felt out of control, your hips bucking as best as they could in this position. Soon you felt Soonyoung release inside you, never slowing down his thrusts, allowing you to ride out the orgasm that him finishing inside of you triggered. White hot pleasure mounted in your belly and it took everything in you to stay quiet.

Soonyoung pulled out of you slowly, his cock softening and falling limply. He set you gently back down on your feet. "Let me help you get cleaned up." He sank to his knees and held your thighs as he lapped up his own cum from your spent cunt. His tongue slid through your folds making you shiver with overstimulation, he anchored your hips with his hands, crushing your cunt to his mouth. He spit a few mouthfuls down the drain and delivered a kiss to your clit before rising and kissing your lips. He tasted like a mixture of yours and his own spend.

Soonyoung insisted the two of you move quietly and quickly back to your room. His hand was grasped in yours as he ran down the hall, dragging you behind him. As soon as you stepped foot into the room Soonyoung closed the door behind you and moved to your closet.

"Do you need everything?" He looked over his shoulder at you.

"No…I don't think so…" You sat on the bed and watched him sort through the few clothes you brought with you. He pulled out a turtleneck sweater and some jeans. He couldn't have known, but he picked your favorite sweater. You shook your head.

"What's wrong?" He turned to you and tossed the clothes on the bed next to you.

"I can't, not without you." Tears burned in your eyes as you watched him fall to his knees in front of you.

"Birdie, you have to." His fingers splayed over your thighs, his eyes searching yours pleadingly.

"What about you?" You whispered.

"I'll be fine, it's too late for me."

"It's not!" You insisted taking his face in your hands.

"It is." He leaned into your touch. "He can call me at any moment, I'm lucky I've been able to be here with you for this long." You knew he was right, dread settled in your stomach. Leaving Soonyoung here was suddenly your worst nightmare.

"I'll come back for you."

"I knew it." His eyes sparkled mischievously. "Fell in love with my cock, you're obsessed with me."

"Soonyoung." You bristled. "I'm being serious."

"So am I." He squeezed your thighs. "So listen when I say this: do not try to save me."

"But—"

"I'm beyond saving, Birdie." He rose to his feet and pressed his lips to your forehead. "We both know it, no use prolonging it."

He helped you dress in silence. It was disorienting, his eyes being brown but he wasn't saying a word. He didn't want to tell you that there was a pain in his chest that could double him over if he wasn't used to excruciating pain. He didn't want you to leave, you were the only thing that made his miserable life worth living. He liked remembering and talking and you. He wasn't sure he was ready to give all that up, but he had to. For you.

He draped your coat over your shoulders. "It has to be getting cold by now." He mumbled as you shoved your arms through the sleeves. He pulled the hood over your head. "You'll be a fugitive in his eyes soon, keep your head down and don't look back." You nodded. "You ready?"

"If I have to be." You let a tear fall. Soonyoung swiped it from your cheek.

"You do." He lightly pressed his lips to yours, you knew it was a goodbye. He slipped his hand into yours and gave you a nod before taking off down the hall with you. At first you thought you were heading to the front entrance until Soonyoung took a sharp turn down a corridor you don't remember ever seeing before. Do you understand what might happen if Soonyoung broke free? The ringleader's voice rang in your ears.

"You're not supposed to see this." Soonyoung whispered as you approach a nondescript door off the side of the hallway.

"See what?" You peered around Soonyoung. "It's just a door."

"What's beyond the door, Birdie, come on." He knocked lightly on the top of your head. "You're smarter than this."

"It's our last moments together and you're using them to make fun of me?" You shoved him lightly. "Why do you know what's behind it?"

"I thought you knew who I was." He smirked. "I'm important around here." He turned the door knob and threw the door open.

You weren't sure what you were expecting when the door opened. It wasn't this. Behind the door there was a swirling light, it shifted from white to blue to purple, sometimes it was every color all at once. You took a step toward it and Soonyoung caught you around the waist.

"Easy there, tiger." His thumb drew circles into your hip, you were starting to realize this was a nervous habit of his. "You need a few instructions before you leap in." His face was illuminated by the glow beyond the doorway, making him look angelic. You wiped all of his makeup off when you showered together, washing away all the grime.

"I wasn't going to walk in, I just wanted a better look." You leaned closer to his body, letting him hold you close.

"I need you to think about home." He whispered in your ear. "Think about your bed, warm and waiting for you." He coaxed.

"Soonyoung what are you—"

"No." He shushed you. "This can only work if you trust me and do as I say. We're running out of time, I feel him getting restless." You nod and close your eyes, thinking of your apartment. Your bed began to materialize in your mind. "Good." You heard Soonyoung murmur. He sounded a thousand miles away. His lips were on your forehead. "Take a step back for me," His voice was broken.

You do as your told. You opened your eyes, Soonyoung had tears streaming down his face and clouds forming in his eyes. He closed the door slowly, his lips were forming goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. You would scream if you thought it wouldn't alert the ringmaster.

It was too bright, you were blinded as you fell through the nothingness. Your stomach flipped, falling for what felt like hours. You squeezed your eyes shut, something telling you to brace for impact. The light surrounding you became brighter, the roaring became louder and then, suddenly, nothing. Everything stopped.

You sat up in your bed gasping for air.

Your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, your room, your apartment. The room is exactly how you left it two months ago, your dance clothes strewn about. You threw your covers off your body and sprinted to the bathroom. You flipped on the lights and looked at yourself in the mirror.

The white in your hair was gone.

You don't know when you started crying. Probably shortly after you realized it was all a dream. None of it was real, Soonyoung, the circus, everything was some twisted joke from your subconscious. You drag yourself back to your bed, you wrapped yourself in your blankets as the tears stream down your face. It felt so real. You could still feel Soonyoung's lips on your skin.

The clock on your bedside table read 2:14 am. You fell into a fitful sleep, dreams swirled behind your eyelids. Nothing concrete, more like fleeting visions. Soonyoung's brown eyes, the circus, your act. Eventually, at 7:00 am you decide to cut your losses and make coffee. You felt like a zombie going through the motions. Mug from the cabinet, coffee grounds from the pantry, waiting for the pot to boil.

You shuffle back to your room to look for job listings. The coffee takes a few moments to hit your system, but when it does you only feel slightly more alive. After finding a few potential auditions, you untangle yourself from your chair and pad to the bathroom for a shower.

Your clothes fall to the floor as the water heats up. You stretch your arms over your head, your tight muscles loosening only slightly, and something on your leg catches your eye. You turn fully toward the mirror and gasp.

There were purple fingerprint bruises littering your thighs.

There was a roaring in his ears, whether it was the crowd waiting for him or the anger coursing through his body, Soonyoung wasn't sure. He bounced on his heels, waiting for the ringleader to introduce your act, the act he will be doing alone. His eyes bored into the side of his captor's head as the man's voice boomed throughout the big top.

When the ringleader made way for what he thought would be your act, with Hoshi assisting as always. However, only Soonyoung was walking out into the center of the ring, the cage you should be in is empty. He could see the anger rolling off of the ringleader from his spot in the center of the room. Good, that was the goal, the circus would collapse right now if Soonyoung had his way.

The clown went through the motions as if you were with him, there was an uncomfortable hush over the audience. They were unsure if they were supposed to clap or look on in horror as the performance in front of them unraveled. Soonyoung looked nothing short of terrifying, his makeup streamed down his face, his blond hair was wild and unkempt.

As the end of the performance neared, the ringleader stood from his seat in the audience, staring Soonyoung down as he made a mockery of the circus he worked so hard to build. The music crescendoed and dropped off, leaving the entire building cloaked in silence. After a few seconds there were a few stray applause. Soonyoung stared right at the ring leader, holding eye contact he lowered into a disjointed bow. They stayed there, staring at each other for several seconds before the lights in the building cut out. Soonyoung felt an icy cold hand scruff the back of his neck and pull him out of the main space.

"You let her go!" The ringleader shoved Soonyoung against the wall of the large office. "You absolute fool!"

"That's what you prefer me to be, isn't it?" Soonyoung smirked in the face of his captor. The ringleader pressed the clown's windpipe under his forearm.

"Since when do you think for yourself, Soonyoung?" The ringleader spat, pressing further against his neck. "You can't."

"Someone," Soonyoung's ragged breaths filled the room, "keeps lying to me."

"What are you talking about?"

"Give it up," Soonyoung smiled, "I know everything."

"I could kill you, you know?" The ringleader flicked a switchblade out of his pocket.

"Running the risk of Y/N squealing to the cops, just for them to find my body?"

"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Right." Soonyoung brought up his foot and landed a kick to his captor's knee, causing him to fall backward. "Because you're a demon, aren't you? Daddy can call you back to Hell at any time, so why would it matter?" He kicked the hand that is clutching the switchblade and it skittered across the cement floor.

"What are you talking about Soonyoung?" The ringleader watched the knife as it escaped his grasp. "You've known me for years." He returned his gaze to Soonyoung's, only realizing now that his eyes were brown. He had no control. He attempted to regain that control over his clown. The ringleader watched as the clouds stormed in Soonyoung's eyes, his neck tensing and his veins pulsing as he fought the possession. The clouds retreated, leaving Soonyoung's eyes brown and wild. He looked catatonic.

"Known you for years?" Soonyoung squatted down next to the ringleader and cocked his head. "Maybe I've been here for years, but I have never known you." He moved his foot to step on the other man's fingers. "You made it so that I don't remember anything about my life, you're the reason I couldn't think for myself. And yet, I don't know a single thing about you." He increased the pressure on the hand under his boot, the ringleader yelping in pain.

"You said you know everything!" The ringleader shouted, looking pleadingly at his now broken fingers under Soonyoung's foot.

"Not everything." Soonyoung shifted to shove his knee into the demon's chest. "What do you want with us?" Soonyoung watched as some of the demon's hair began sprouting white, right from the roots. "Are you getting scared now?" He smiled wickedly.

"I need it to live." The ringleader choked. "Your fear, your subservience, I need it."

"Well, we're at a crossroads then, demon." Soonyoung pressed his knee into the man's chest harder. "I'm not scared of you anymore."

"You should be."

"No, you're powerless aren't you?" Soonyoung asked, voice dripping in a venom he didn't even know he possessed. "You can't possess me, can you Phobos?" The demon's body suddenly burned with white hot pain everywhere Soonyoung was touching him.

"What have you done?" Phobos cried. His leathery wings materialized beneath him as he thrashed with pain, trying to shake Soonyoung off.

Soonyoung pinned the demon to the floor with his knee.

"All I needed was your name. Next time keep a better lock on your books and always know where your clown is at all times." Phobos' body began to disintegrate under Soonyoung's hold. He watched as the demon's skin began to crack, revealing the pitch black soul underneath.

Soonyoung jumped back from the body on the floor as a large chasm opened up beneath it, sickly looking hands with talons emerged and pulled Phobos through. This banishment wouldn't hold forever, Soonyoung knew that much, but enough time for him to escape and hopefully find you.

Over the next few years, the Midnight Menagerie faded into a low burn in the back of your mind. Sometimes you still had nightmares, but for the most part you were able to move on with your life. You had a steady job, you could pay your bills and still have some left over every month.

For all intents and purposes you should be happy. That would be, if it weren't for how often you thought about Soonyoung. For a few months you looked for him, you looked for any evidence that he and the circus were real. You knew they were, but you couldn't find any evidence of them ever existing. Which, admittedly, made sense considering you had never heard anything about it until the ring master wanted you to. Still, leaving Soonyoung behind was one of your greatest regrets.

Everything reminded you of him, every person on the street looked like him some days.

You flipped the calendar on your desk, a purple X stared back at you. Today was the two year anniversary of your escape. You blinked in disbelief, how could you forget? Maybe that's what was supposed to happen, you'll never heal but it will get easier every year. It had to.

After work, you decided you deserved a treat and you walked to the bakery down the block. On your way there the people blurred together and once again everyone seemed to bare a resemblance to Soonyoung.

"One pistachio pastry, please." You smiled meekly at the person behind the bakery counter. You recieved your treat and payed the woman at the register.

Pushing through the door you peeled back the parchment paper it was wrapped in so you could eat it on your way home. Suddenly, you collided with something solid, sending your pastry tumbling down onto the sidewalk. You opened your mouth to tell this person off for stopping in the middle of the walkway but he was already apologizing.

"Oh gosh," He squatted down to pick the now ruined pastry up. "I'm so sorry, I was trying to remember where I was going and I just didn't realize how busy this street is at this time of night and—"

"It's fine." You sighed, cutting off his rambling. "Today was already a shit day. No worries." He stood, his hands were full of pistachio pastry. You could barely look at him because you knew he would just remind you of Soonyoung.

"Do you want me to throw this out..?" He asked, looking around for a trashcan.

"Ugh." You grab it from him and turn to your left, where a trashcan was waiting for you. "I got it. Have a good night."

"Wait." He grabbed your hand, something familiar shot through your body. "Do I know you?" You allowed yourself to look at him, really look at him. His eyes were brown.

"Soonyoung?" You whispered.

"Oh my God." His eyes welled with tears. He pulled you to his chest and wrapped his arms around you tightly. His lips were pressing kisses into your hair and his thumb was wearing circles into your hip.

"Your hair is black."

Soobin liked being a florist. He loved flowers more. Perhaps it was because the shop stopped feeling like a shop and rather a person to him. It woke up with him every morning, breathed with the breeze when he slid the door open, and hummed softly when he watered the hanging plants. He worked there most days, except for Tuesdays, when his employee took over so he could attend his classes. For the remaining days of the week, Soobin arranged his schedule meticulously so that he could finish his classes early in the morning and put his entire focus on flowers. The arrangement’s practical, he liked to believe. 

The shop sat below his apartment, which is really just one big room pretending to be three. His uncle handed it to him when he moved here for university, saying, “It’s old but it’ll love you back if you take care of it.” Perhaps that’s what got him thinking about flowers in the first place.

Why flowers, specifically? — because the most romantic thing about flowers is that they could say what people couldn't. Flowers, to him, are translators. They turn the things people mean into color and shape, into scent and softness. He liked to imagine that every arrangement he made carried a small story.

He didn’t always know what it was, but he liked guessing — a confession with roses, an apology wrapped around white lilies, and carnations carrying gratitude for the loved ones. He took joy in translating those feelings and that’s what drew him in; the thought that he’s helping people say things they can’t always phrase. He liked that flowers never lie. They just bloom, fade, and start again. In their short lives, they manage to say everything worth saying.

In the middle of tending to a new shipment of red gerberas, Soobin blinked back into focus when your distant laugh drifted inside. Realizing he’d been standing still for a while with a pair of shears in hand, staring at nothing in particular, he clipped the stem he was holding. 

There was a quaint nursery at the back of the shop. Once an unremarkable yard attached to his uncle’s apartment now repurposed into rows of neatly aligned pots and every colour of flowers one could imagine. You were there, showing the elderly couple around and explaining differences between varieties with the knowledge you got from Soobin after months of hanging around. They were regulars, always appearing on Sundays, and they’d long decided they preferred you over him when it came to choosing plants though you didn’t even work there.

He liked the friendly company you brought, as he liked to tell himself, but each time he looked through the windowpane to catch you smiling — that conviction thinned. You looked impossibly beautiful standing there among the green, pointing something out to the old woman who was nodding along with delight. There was dirt on your fingertips, probably your sleeves too, but you were radiant nonetheless. 

The sight made him feel a strange tug somewhere in his chest, which was funny, because it resembled what one would call envy. Soobin was envious that sunlight got to touch you first. 

When you led the couple back inside, he quickly turned his gaze to the counter, focusing on trimming the stems before the flowers lost too much moisture. Your voice was honey to him, your presence the sun.

“Soobin, they’re thinking about keeping some plants in their kitchen. They want to know which ones will last.” You placed two small tubs of chrysanthemums in front of him, their leaves still wet from misting.

The old man gave a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck as if the admission embarrassed him. “My wife says the kitchen looks too plain without a bit of life.”

“I told him,” the old woman interrupted fondly, “that if we’re going to cook every day, we might as well have something nice to look at while we’re doing it.”

Soobin smiled, leaning forward to inspect the tubs. “You could try pothos,” he said after a moment. “They don’t need much light, and they’ll forgive you even if you forget them for a few days. Basil too, if you want something useful. It grows better near a window, though.”

The old woman’s eyes brightened. “Basil sounds lovely. I could use it for our soups.”

“Soup!” You chirped when you came back from washing your dirt smeared hands. “Oh, Mrs. Park, I need to know how your soup tastes.”

The couple laughed at that, the sound pulling Soobin’s attention as he stole a glance at you with a smile of his own. “I will make sure to give you kids some the next time we come by!” she promised. 

“Then it’s settled,” you said warmly, turning back to Soobin. “You won’t regret getting the basil. Everything grown and cared for by Soobin in this shop is full of love.” 

The wife smiled, cheeks crinkling. “You’re as sweet as these flowers, dear.”

Sweeter than any of them, Soobin thought. Prettier too.

He wordlessly passed you a towel and you took it with a murmured thanks while he went back to arranging the couple’s purchase. As he packed, the woman’s gaze caught on the gerberas beside him.

“Those are lovely,” she said, eyes softening at the red bloom. “It’s been years since I’ve seen them this bright.”

You followed her gaze. “They really are, aren’t they?” you said, tapping your finger lightly against the counter. “Maybe you should take a few stems home too. They’ll add some color to your living room.”

“They would,” the husband agreed, already pulling his wallet from his coat. “Let’s take a few.”

There was this magic in you. Some people didn’t need flowers to speak for them — their presence was already poetry, their laughter already a language. You were one of them. And you were his exact opposite. Soobin, who could shape meaning through petals and stems but stumbled when it came to words, was terrified of letting his thoughts spill unchecked from his heart to his mouth, terrified that they might reach you and ruin the ephemeral beauty of what already existed between you. So he relied on flowers, always.

He held up a single red gerbera between his thumb and index finger. His eyes drifted to where you stood beside the elderly couple, now showing them the tulips on display. The flower symbolizes a passionate and profound declaration of love, representing a love that filled every part of the soul until it became difficult to breathe. It made him wonder what it would feel like to hand the bouquet to you instead, to let the flower say what he couldn’t. The idea itself was enough to trip his pulse.

The old couple soon gathered their plants and bouquet as they bid farewell to you both. Gerberas suited them — he thought as he watched them leave — still vibrant after all these years, their love so full of life. A love like that, he hoped, was not beyond him. A love like that, he wanted to be capable of giving and also worthy of receiving.

 That want, that wish of his didn’t seem to be so far off because his brain came to a comforting pause when the same words were spoken out loud, by you.

“Arent they wonderful?” you sighed dreamily, watching the couple disappear down the street. “I hope a love like theirs finds me.”

“You have nothing to worry about,” he murmured, arranging the leftover stems. “You’re very lovable. People tend to love you without needing to be asked.”

You blinked, caught off guard for half a second before recovering with a teasing smile. “Do they, now?”

He nodded, still not looking up, but the corner of his mouth lifted. “Even Mr. and Mrs. Park. They barely let me talk to them anymore.”

You gasped softly in realization and snapped your fingers. “Right! They never ask for your help, do they?” You leaned in across the counter and it took everything in Soobin not to fold right there. “Watch out, Soobin. At this rate, I might just learn enough to open my own shop across the street. Then what will you do?”

Soobin chuckled, dimples deepening as he pushed his glasses up with the back of his wrist. “I’ll have a scary competitor then.”

You giggled, amused by the thought. “You think I’m scary?”

He narrowed his eyes just enough that the look read more fond than fierce, and then, by a measure that felt modest because he was taller, he bent at the waist until his face aligned with yours. He leaned forward the barest fraction. 

“Terrifying.”

He whispered the words with a cheeky squint of his eyes and let his gaze find yours with a small, almost solemn smile. For a fleeting second, Soobin allowed himself the luxury of memorizing you up close as you burst out into a fit of laughter. 

Time flew in a strange way on Sundays. It stretched and folded in ways that defied reason. With you in the shop, time seemed to slow just inside that shared space surrounded by flowers for him. Nothing more than your mere presence, not even the brilliance of the fresh floras and their honeyed fragrance, could make him feel alive. Yet at the same time, the hours slipped from his grasp because it is never enough. The day always ended too soon, and every time you reached for your bag Soobin found himself wishing for just one more hour with you. One more exchange that he could replay in the stillness of his mind when night fell.

He never asked, of course. Love, to him, was a quiet thing — a bloom meant to be nurtured, not confessed too soon. So he contented himself with the gentle ache you left behind until you came by the next day to heal him. 

When you finally left that evening, he tucked a single red gerbera stem into your bag, wrapped in paper the colour he knew you adored. 

MONDAYS were rather boring.

Everything was as it always was, except it wasn’t. It was the only day when your schedule didn't align with his, meaning, when Soobin’s classes ended and he began his shift, yours started. Even in a place overflowing with color and life, with beauty and extravagance, your presence was what always made life vibrant in his eyes. Without you, everything paled inside the shop. Even the new batch of flowers he’d receive for the day refused to liven up as if they were waiting for you to show up and breathe life into them. Soobin was like the flowers.

He missed you more than he could justify. To the point he’d foolishly perk up — like a bunny perking up in the gentlest alarm, as you’d like to call him — whenever the shop door’s bell jingled. Every time, he flt like a part of him slowly died whenever he’d see it wasn't you but rather a customer. 

On such days, Soobin felt like a machine serving its purpose. Greet the customers, tend to the flowers, make arrangements and repeat. To be fair, the monotony used to comfort him once. Two years ago, that had been his entire life. It used to be only him and the flowers, and sometimes his part-time employee taking turns behind the counter so he could balance his studies and tutoring. That changed when you became friends with him. 

Soobin couldn’t remember when or how it began but he really enjoyed it when you started showing up in his humble shop like this. You expressed genuine interest when he first told you about his little business, and he couldn't forget the look on your face when he first took you to the shop. No flower could rival the raw look of enrapture you had on you. You started coming by more often — at first to talk, then to help, then simply to exist there. You loved flowers as much as he did. So there was no reason for him to stop you from showing up.

He doubted he could ever ask you to stop showing up. Frankly, it’s something he always looked forward to because you manage to bring comfort with you. You had a way of making the space feel lived in; of making him feel seen. So now your absence, even if for one day, felt tortuous to Soobin.

Whenever his employee Jisoo showed up, Soobin would manage the shop together with him. The lunch brought by Jisoo was shared between the two of them. Some days, Soobin would almost hear your phantom nagging at him for never learning how to cook. On others, when Jisoo happened to bring the dishes you loved, Soobin would simply stare at them for a moment too long, thinking of how you’d probably hum with satisfaction after the first bite, your expression glowing with unguarded joy that made his heart ache in the most tender way.

On such a monday, after Jisoo left finishing his shift, Soobin brewed himself a cup of tea as he put on some song in the background. Leaning against the counter he took a sip of his tea and stared out of the window. Outside, a pair of children ran past, their laughter echoed down the path. Soobin’s gaze drifted toward the doorway. The space looked too still without your movement. 

The only movement that tugged on the edges of his thoughts was the gentle sway of the daffodils by the breeze that came from the open nursery door. The bright yellow flowers beckoned him to caress them. 

Daffodils, known for their ability to emerge after the darkness of winter symbolizes hope and the promise of better times, alongside joy and happiness. He wondered, as he gently brushed his across one of the petals, if in another life or in some other universe entirely — these daffodils were growing inside his chest, their roots weaving through his lungs, their golden blooms stealing his breath. Perhaps that was why his heart ached this way every time he thought of you. He decided he wouldn’t mind suffocating, not if it meant the air that left him was filled with your name.

Love had made its home in him long ago. Flowers of love bloomed in his chest, threatening to slip out of him whenever he looked at you which he disguised as breathless laughters, as words, as the ineffable fondness that ran through his veins at your mere existence.

Another chime from the bell. Again, he looked up. Again, it wasn’t you.

He hated Mondays for how long they felt, for how they made the absence of you stretch into hours he could count by the way the sunlight changed. Still, there was a strange comfort in missing you. It meant you existed somewhere beyond these walls, and tomorrow, when the bell chimed again, it might really be you.

Until then, he had the flowers. He had the scent of the daffodils. He had the echo of your voice stored in memory. And for a boy like Soobin who loved through petals and silence, that was sufficient to keep breathing through the slow, pale hours of Monday.

From morning lectures to late afternoon tutoring, Soobin’s hours always blurred into a monotony of words and fatigue on Tuesdays. Other than that, these days were simply to say, pretty uneventful.

But it was such a TUESDAY that reminded him that even ordinary days could bloom.

Soft morning light pooled across the courtyard benches where Soobin sat with Taehyun and Kai. The three of them huddled together as they discussed writing their reports, but it was mostly them and not Soobin who engaged in the conversation. Soobin found his attention drifting to the faint rustle of leaves above them. 

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw you waving. You appeared in a rush of sunlight and apologetic smiles, which made him sit up straighter. He almost did the foolish act of fumbling to catch his heart because it skipped a beat so hard, Soobin truly felt like it was about to leap out of his ribcage. 

“Soobin!” You called, already halfway to them. You were visibly out of breath but why was it him who felt breathless? The way your eyes caught the sunlight made it impossible for him to look anywhere else. “I don’t have time to stay—I’m already late for my lecture—but here.” You held out a paper bag toward him. “Don’t skip lunch, okay? I’ll see you later!”

Before he could say much beyond a thank you,you were already stepping back, waving to the other two. “Bye, guys!” — and running off toward the building.

For a second, everything surrounding him seemed to still in the wake of your absence. He opened the bag, saw the croissant sandwich wrapped in neat folds and a water bottle nestled beside it. You were his friend, yes, what you were doing was nothing more than just a friend looking out for another. You’d always been thoughtful, always been a loving and caring person. Still, he couldn’t stop feeling warm by this small act of care because you knew Tuesdays were hectic for him and went out of your way to make sure he gained the energy to push through.

Kai’s malicious groan disturbed his sweet bubble of thoughts. “Must be nice having someone like that,” the younger said, gesturing lazily at the bag. “You’re lucky, man. I’d kill for a lunch delivery mid-day and— ow!”

It was Taehyun who smacked the back of Kai’s head to hush him, signalling him with a single stare that translated ‘read the room’. The two then turned to Soobin who still looked lost in his head, glasses slightly dropping down his nose by the way his head was tilted downward.

Taehyun softly cleared his throat, trying to mask his question as friendly as possible. “Are you two together?”

Soobin flinched. He could have said no, a neat dismissal that left nothing to broker between them. Instead he found himself saying, “We’re just friends.” The phrase came out tasting bitter and wrong on his tongue, betraying him with a half-second’s hesitation between just and friends that suggested how the truth refused to fit into any box.

“Ah,” Taehyun said simply, leaning back in his chair. “Alright.”

Kai, rubbing the back of his head, tried to reclaim the moment, about to offer some light commentary that would have widened the circle of awkwardness, but Taehyun’s small, admonishing look cut him off. There was nothing for Soobin to explain anyway, or maybe there was too much. 

By evening, the exhaustion sat heavy in his bones. Lecture after lecture had chipped away at him until all that remained was a dull ache behind his eyes. He had texted you out of habit in the afternoon between class breaks.

Not feeling very uplifted today.

He hadn’t meant for it to sound like a plea. Your reply came almost instantly.

I understand. I’ll be around if you need anything. Don’t push yourself too hard.

Typical of you — never intrusive, always there in the way only you could be. He appreciated it, but the distance between you remained, as it always had.

After finishing his last tutoring session of the day, he walked down the nearly deserted hallway. He hadn’t thought about you much during the time he spent wallowing in stress and fatigue. But when he turned the corner toward the elevator, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There, just outside the elevator, sitting on one of the chairs by the wall, was you.

For a moment, he simply stood there, the dull exhaustion inside him replaced by something wordless and vast. You looked up, and when your eyes met his, a small smile, tired yet radiant at the same, bloomed across your face.

What are you doing here? — was all he could think, though words deserted him for a few more seconds after approaching you.

“You’re still here?” he managed. “Your class ended hours ago.” 

You stood stretching slightly, your smile widening just a fraction. “Figured you’d need someone to walk home with.”

He blinked, dazed, as if the meaning of your words had to travel through too many walls before it reached him. “Didn’t you have somewhere to go?” he asked, trying to reason.

“No,” you replied simply, “I wanted to make sure you weren’t walking home alone.”

His pulse thrummed with an inexplicable ache that felt too alive for his exhausted body. It wasn’t like you to wait around this long, especially when you could be using this time to focus on anything better. Anything or anyone better than him. But you had waited for him because of a single text.

He didn’t know what he had done to be worthy of your patience, nor did he know how to articulate the reverence that rose in him now, the fierce, aching wish to deserve it. He wondered whether his heart could bear much more of you before it gave itself away entirely.

“Oh? Um. Thank you,” he murmured, the words far too meager for all he wanted to say.

The elevator chimed. You gestured toward it with a small nod, and he followed, still unsure if his gratitude was delivered to you properly. You leaned back against the wall, and let out a sigh that relaxed your posture. He took his place against the opposite wall. Now, with the distance of the day collapsing between you he noticed the weariness clinging to you which he had missed when he first saw you sitting outside. He still couldn’t fathom the fact that you waited for him, all because he expressed feeling a little blue. 

“Did you eat everything?” Your voice was soothing and gentle that in his overflowing love fueled headspace, he almost felt like he could fall asleep listening to you. “The croissant—was it alright?”

“It was better than alright,” he, too, spoke in a low tone to match your cadence. “I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I opened the bag.”

You smiled, eyes meeting his for the briefest second before drifting toward the faintly glowing floor indicator. “I knew you needed it. I know how hard you work all the time.”

He felt a drowsy calm settle over him. If either of you noticed the way his eyes were locked onto you after your admission, neither you nor he made a comment about it. He wanted to take your tiredness and scatter it away, to cup your face and let his gratitude pour through his touch just as a way to give back, to make you feel the way you made him feel. The impulse to kiss you was so overwhelming that it startled him though not because it was new, but because it had never been this close to breaking through. His hands twitched at his sides, every instinct begging to bridge the distance, yet reason kept him still.

Nevertheless, what he felt for you had already outgrown the safety of words. It was already too alive, too consuming, blooming inside him like a garden that asked only to be watered by you.

When the elevator doors opened, the spell broke. Soobin turned his head, meaning to speak, to say thank you again in a way that might capture what you had done for him but the words withered again before they could take shape.

If love could be measured by waiting, then you had just rewritten every definition he knew.

By the railing near the exit, a row of potted forget-me-nots watched in blue silence, as though they, too, understood what it meant to wait and to be remembered.

If affection could take form, Soobin learned that WEDNESDAYS could be its sunlight.

When he orders for a shipment, it is mostly on Wednesdays that the new batch of fresh floras arrive. It wasn’t necessarily a constant occurrence, but it had happened often, which is why Soobin liked to keep important shop related agendas particularly on this day. 

Two weeks later on a Wednesday. Soobin stood behind the counter with sleeves rolled above his forearms, a clipboard in hand, his glasses slipping slightly down his nose as he ticked off names and numbers. The bell jingled — and of course instinctively he looked up —  smiling brightly with his dimples deepening at the sight of you.

“Hey,” you greeted him with a cheerful smile.

He reached for the glass jar beside the register, fished out a lemon candy, and rolled it across the counter toward you.

“Morning,” he greeted, his smile softening. “You’re here earlier than usual.”

“Prof was feeling generous today, I suppose. She ended the class early so I came as soon as I could,” you replied, picking up the candy. The lemon filled your mouth with a tangy sting, a small burst of summer. Behind him, Jisoo was sorting tulips with exaggerated concentration, pretending not to eavesdrop. You waved at him anyway, earning a sheepish smile before he ducked his head.

“Everything arrived fine?” you asked, glancing toward the mountain of crates by the window.

Soobin followed your gaze, pushed his glasses higher, and exhaled as though only now realizing how much work still lay ahead. “More or less. The supplier mixed up a few labels again—I might have accidentally ordered twice the usual number of sunflowers.”

“Accidentally?” you repeated, your brows arching in suspicion.

He met your look with one of his own — a small smile of oops before setting the clipboard down. “Maybe not entirely. Actually,” he began, pausing because he wanted to choose his words with care, “do you have plans for the day?”

“Nope,” you said at once. “Why? Planning to put me to work again?”

“Something like that,” he said, straightening a small stack of receipts only to set them down again. Soobin felt a tender warmth in his chest as you stared at him expectantly. “How would you feel about coming with me to the sunflower farm? I need to sort out the delivery issue in person. Could use the company.”

The candy nearly slipped from your tongue. “A sunflower farm?” you echoed, disbelief giving way to delight. “You’re asking me to go to a sunflower farm?”

“Unless you have something better to do,” he teased lightly, though his hand still brushed the edge of the counter with a nervous anticipation.

You shook your head far too quickly. “Even if I did, I’d cancel it immediately. Who in their right mind would say no to a sunflower field?”

You said those words so earnestly that Soobin couldn’t stop the bright laugh from escaping him. He hadn’t meant to react so openly, yet your enthusiasm had a way of undoing his restraint piece by piece until all that remained was this foolish, giddy pulse under his ribs that refused to calm down.

“You’re right, no one in their right mind should say no to that,” he humored you, adjusting his glasses to mask the giddiness still threatening to spread. “Give me around ten minutes and we’ll go, yeah?”

You saluted him playfully before turning toward the doorway. Behind you, his voice followed, threaded with an affection he didn’t bother to hide. “And grab a hat—it gets hot out there. Jisoo will show you where we keep them.”

He didn’t really need to solve the delivery issue in person — he could’ve just sent an e-mail clarification and been done with it. But Soobin, being Soobin, saw the outing as a chance to “deepen professional ties.” That was how he phrased it in his head at least. Both work-wise and, well… you-wise.

He told you it was for work, and he told himself that too. And technically, it was true. He was going for work. But what his mind could justify, his heart refused to understand. His heart had long stopped behaving like something he could reason with. It thrashed and pleaded, spinning songs out of nothing whenever you were near and lured out all the thoughts he’d buried in the farthest corners of his head. It told him things his reason wouldn’t dare put into words. Things like asking you to accompany him to a sunflower farm was the equivalent of asking you on a date. Scratch that, it wasn’t really a date because, again, work. Except his heart couldn’t care less.

If sunflowers yearned toward the sun, then his heart tilted helplessly toward you. You had your fingerprints all over his heart, left on his thoughts, his gestures, the smallest habits he could no longer call his own. You touched him without touching him, and he felt it deep in his bones.

By the time they arrived at the sunflower farm, the late afternoon light had turned syrup-thick, golden and drowsy, coating everything it touched. It took less than half an hour for him to settle the shipment issue which he was most thankful for because it meant he could spend more time with you looking around. He carried the paperwork in one hand checking the state of the flowers as they walked, though his mind was far from logistics.

You walked a few steps ahead, the hem of your shirt catching in the breeze and sunlight glancing off your hair as you did. Every few seconds, you’d turn back to point something out with a smile — a stretch of wildflowers, a crooked fence post and each time you did, he felt that same small collapse inside him, the one that whispered he could spend a lifetime looking at you and still not feel full.

He wanted to reach for your hand. God, how badly he wanted to. It wasn’t even about the touch — it was about what it meant. It was to feel your pulse beneath his thumb, to know that the warmth in his chest had somewhere to belong. But do friends hold hands like that? With the kind of longing that burned holes through reason and plagued his senses?

Soobin noticed a patch of young sunflowers and bent before them, one knee pressed into the dirt, eyes tracing the fragile stems swaying in the mild breeze. His fingers brushed the soil with care, tracing the tender line of roots that had begun to weave through the earth. The ground was still warm from the afternoon sun, faintly damp against his skin.

You came to stand beside him, your shadow falling across the flowers. “Are these newly planted?” you asked, crouching a little to match his height.

He nodded, flicking a bit of soil from his fingers. “Mm. A few weeks old, maybe.”

You tilted your head, smiling at the shy blossoms. Then you glanced at him with a grin that glowed warmer than the light itself. “How pretty.”

Though you meant the flowers, the words seemed to settle somewhere deep in him. He didn’t dare look up. He could still feel you there, your presence bright beside him. The weather’s heat was a little tacky but your warmth felt heavenly. Then, all at once, your weight beside him vanished.

“Soobin,” you called sweetly from somewhere behind him.

He looked up and was met with a sprinkle of cold droplets landing across his cheek. He blinked, a startled laugh escaping him. You stood a few steps away with the watering can in both hands, trying to hide your grin.

“Oops,” you said lightly. “Got confused for a second—which one was the real flower.”

“Oh my god.” He raised his brows, disbelief flickering across his face. “You’re not usually the type for corny lines.”

“What can I do when you’re so pretty?”

That made him stop. The laugh died halfway through his throat, dissolving into a soundless exhale. You said it so easily, without any awareness of what it did to him and maybe that was what made it worse, that you could wound him so sweetly without even knowing.

He rose to his feet, slow enough to steady himself. Reaching for the watering can, he caught your wrist gently before he dipped his hand into the water. When he lifted it again, droplets slid between his knuckles, catching sunlight as he flicked them in your direction.

You gasped, a small sound that made his stomach twist, your lashes catching stray drops.

“Guess I’ll have to water you too,” he said, tapping his wet fingers once against your cheek, eyes dipping for a second too long. “You look parched.”

And the moment they left his mouth, his heart raced in his throat. He could almost feel the words replaying in his own head. What are you doing? What are you saying? His mind scrambled to fix what his mouth had already done. He hastily drew his hand back.

You seemed to still for a moment before wiping your face with the back of your hand, eyes narrowing playfully. “It’s flattering to know you think I’m pretty, Soobin.”

He hesitated — a heartbeat too long — before forcing a grin and patting your head. “I think you need water to grow taller,” he countered steadily though his pulse was anything but.

“Wow,” you said flatly, dragging out the word. “How rude.”

Soobin had to look away and laugh, which sounded way too nervous to be called one. He tugged at the top button of his shirt before it came undone and a low exhale slipped past his lips. He was already in some sort of trance. Maybe the sun had found its way into his bloodstream, making him reckless enough to muddle reasons. Because blaming his erratic need to lose control in front of you on the sun was easier than to admit he was truly losing it. 

One moment you were standing in front of him then the next you moved in front of a bigger batch up ahead. "You really shouldn’t be talking about height here," you said, pointing to a sunflower that swayed slightly in the breeze. "That one’s taller than you. In fact, most of them are towering above you." 

Soobin, caught in the moment, let his traitorous heart take control and began humoring you. “Is that so?” He moved beside the flower. It towered impressively, yes, but the top of his head passed the blossom by only a few centimeters. His shoulders straightened with faint defiance as he glanced down at you, half a smirk playing on his lips. "Seems I still win."

You squinted up at him. "Don’t cheat by standing on your toes," you teased, reaching out to tug lightly at his sleeve.

The sunlight spilled across your face in such a way that made you look otherworldly. He was already far too gone in the trance put on him by the magic of you, and right at that moment, Soobin forgot how to stand. He forgot the line between reason and impulse (nothing to be surprised of), between what he should do and what he wanted. 

He leaned down before he could stop himself, close enough for his shadow to blur with yours on the road. “Is it better this way?” he murmured.

It was a mistake. He knew it the moment his voice reached your ears, when your laughter stilled and your eyes flicked up to meet his, wide and startled and so alive that his breath trembled. How easily he could close that last distance between you and him. How impossible it truly was.

Then his senses caught up to him all at once. He straightened abruptly, hand flying to the bridge of his glasses — his oldest defense — adjusting them even though they hadn’t slipped. It gave him a moment, just one, to hide behind the pretense of composure. His jaw clenched faintly as he looked away.

But even as he stared forward, he could feel your gaze on him — the soft burn of it trailing along the curve of his neck, tracing the space he had left between you. He didn’t dare look at you. If he did, you’d see everything he’d been hiding, everything that now pulsed under his skin like fever.

“Do you—” he paused, clearing his throat as the words got caught, “do you want to take pictures? Before the sun goes down.” he sounded a little too careful but it did what he needed it to — it changed the air.

You glanced toward the horizon, where the light had begun to mellow into amber. “That’s a good idea,” you said after a beat. “You can take photos for the catalog too—the blooms look perfect today.”

He nodded, grateful for the excuse. Grateful to have something to do with his hands. He unzipped the canvas bag slung across his shoulder and pulled out the small, cream-colored Polaroid camera — a gift from you months ago, when you’d told him to capture memories before they faded. He took his time to capture everything he deemed beautiful but every few seconds, his gaze flickered to where you stood among the taller sunflowers, tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear which kept swaying by the breeze.

He raised the camera again, this time framing you against the wide sky.

When the film slid out, he watched it develop in his hand, the color slowly blooming into form. You tilted your head, watching him. “That’s not for the catalog,” you remarked with a gentle smile. 

He met your gaze then. It was only for a second but enough to betray himself. He still wanted to indulge a little.

“No,” he admitted softly, “this one’s for me.” As well as be honest a little.

You let out a soft chuckle. Taking a few steps closer, you reached for the camera.

“Then this one—” you said, holding it toward him, “—is mine.”

He blinked, almost unmoored, before breaking into a helpless smile that could only exist when you were around. Hiwever, it was genuine.

As the photograph emerged, you held it by its edge beside the one he’d taken. Two fragments of the same light, caught forever in the same field of gold.

The metro was far more crowded than it had any right to be at that hour. Soobin stood near the door, one hand around the pole, the other hovering just behind your shoulder to keep anyone from bumping into you. You looked uneasy, shoulders drawn in, trying your best to fold into yourself without seeming rude.

Soobin knew you never liked standing amidst people in a densely populated place. He should’ve known better than to suggest the metro. And though it wasn’t entirely his fault, the sight of you pressing into the corner made his chest twist in guilt. So, without thinking much, he reached out and guided you gently by the elbow until you were tucked between him and the wall.

You fit there perfectly, shielded from the crowd completely by the breadth of his frame. You blinked up at him, a little startled. He looked down, suddenly aware of the closeness. His hand dropped back to his side almost immediately, flexing. 

“Sorry,” he spoke in a hush tone. “I just thought you’d be more comfortable here.”

You shook your head with a smile, the corners of your eyes folding with quiet affection. “Dont be sorry. I appreciate you for always looking out for me, Soobin.”

He exhaled a soft laugh that came out more self-deprecating. “I’m not doing a great job right now. This was my bright idea, remember? Now you’re stuck here because of me.”

Your reply came with a small huff but still smiled. “I’m doing just fine. You're worrying too much.”

That shut him up in the gentlest way possible. You leaned your head back against the cool metal wall, eyelids fluttering shut. The sway of the carriage rocked your frame ever so slightly which seemed to lull you into a momentary calm. The tension in your shoulders eased little by little, and Soobin felt like he could rest assured now, eyes drifting to the reflection of the lights skimming across the glass.

The train lurched forward again and Soobin instinctively braced his hand on the wall beside your head to steady himself — and you. He was acutely aware of how close you were, of how the space between seemed to shrink with every passing second.

He debated whether to speak, to ask if you were all right just npw, but the question felt redundant. So instead, his free hand stayed close to yours, fingers twitching with the faintest restraint, close enough to offer balance if another sudden jolt came, but not near enough to betray the thought behind it.

Soobin didn’t like how your head was softly but repeatedly bumping against the wall with the vibration of the carriage. He at once balanced his hand on the handrail attached to the pole and the wall beside him, and angled his body in such a way that separated you completely from the crowd.

“Lean on me,” he said, with a faint trace of hesitation, almost shy.

Your eyes fluttered open, drowsy and questioning. “What?”

“You look like you’re about to fall asleep,” he reasoned though his heart was thudding in his chest. “Might as well be comfortable.”

You laughed under your breath, the sound sleepy. “What if your arm starts to cramp?”

He shook his head once, smiling faintly. Your protests fell deaf to his ears when the least he could do right now was to offer you even the slightest form of comfort. Even if it meant at the cost of his own.

“It won’t,” he simply stated. “I don’t mind.”

You studied him for a second longer before giving in. Slowly, tentatively, you tilted your head until it found its place against the crook of his arm. The weight was light but real, it was you and your warmth, and it sent a quiet tremor through him that he tried to swallow down. The realization that you trusted him enough to rest there so freely did wonders to his feelings. 

“Comfortable?” he asked.

“Mhm,” you hummed, content. A few beats later, in a mellow tone, you added, “I had a really good time today.”

Soobin couldn’t help — and didn’t really fight — the glow of fondness from showing in his face. From anyone else’s eyes, the sight might have looked like a simple, affectionate tableau between lovers. But to him, it felt like standing on the edge of a dream he could neither step into nor wake from. The thought of being yours, even in some alternate world, felt cruel in its sweetness. It filled him and hollowed him out all at once like a heart beating for what it could never hold.

The vision of you as his lingered even when he dropped you off at your home. When you stopped in front of your door, he did too, his hands deep in his pockets, trying to mask the restlessness running through him. You waited for a few moments, causing him to question if everything was alright. 

You didn’t use words. You stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

Soobin’s body went rigid before his instinct — no, longing — took over, and his hands found their way out of his pockets, hovering uncertainly. You fit so perfectly against him that it almost hurt. He prayed you couldn’t hear the chaotic thrum of his heartbeat. He was feeling so exposed, so bare in your embrace. After what felt like eons, he steadied himself before returning the embrace.

“What’s this? Are you missing the sunflowers already?” He joked despite feeling like he was on cloud nine.

It earned him a soft scoff from you before you mumbled a ‘oh, shut up.’ He wanted to breathe in your scent but he didn’t dare. Because if he did, it wouldn’t just be longing anymore. It would be surrender.

With your head still resting on his chest, you said with a smile, “Thank you for today, Soobin.”

It was the gentlest of words and yet it split him open cleanly without mercy. He felt, absurdly, as though the gods had reached into his chest and taken his heart between their hands, just to remind him what it meant to feel alive. You should never have to thank him. Being with you was never something that demanded gratitude.

When you pulled away, it was almost too much. He managed a smile, steadying his voice though it trembled at the edges. “Of course,” he said, meaning every word like a vow. “Anything for you.”

You lingered for a heartbeat longer before stepping inside. Soobin remained where he was, hands back in his pockets, watching as the door closed and the warm light spilled into the dusk for one final moment.

He felt like he could mimic a sunflower just fine.

Who knew that his love could deepen so irrevocably on an ordinary Wednesday?

There was a stem sitting in a chipped vase by the window. Once, it held a bloom — a pale carnation he’d forgotten to include in a bouquet he sold. Now it drooped, half-leaning toward the glass as though yearning for the outside light. He should throw it away, he thought, but didn’t. Instead, he watered it every morning, knowing it will never stand upright again.

Soobin never dreaded THURSDAYS until they became the most sorrowful day of the week.

The reason wasn’t because you stopped coming (that would have been easier to bear, he thought) but because you started bringing someone with you. A friend, who looked way too close to you than to Soobin’s liking.

His name was Choi Beomgyu.

When you first brought him over, Soobin’s smile faltered in the smallest way, mimicking a petal folding in on itself before falling. You’d introduced him brightly, and Beomgyu had offered a handshake and a grin that reached his eyes. He complimented the shop, the flowers, and the careful order of the bouquets but Soobin found himself unable to match his tone. Normally, such praise would have filled him with pride; after all, he loved his flowers and he loved it even more when others saw their worth and the effort he put behind his shop. But this time, every kind word felt like a stone dropped into his chest, until he could no longer tell whether it was jealousy or shame that weighed more.

Out of habit, Soobin reached for the jar near the counter to fish out a lemon candy, the way he always did whenever you came by. But as he was about to offer it to you, this Choi Beomgyu guy went, “Woah, lemon candy? I love those! Mind if I take one?”

And without waiting for an answer, he plucked one straight from the jar — your jar — and tore the wrapper open with his teeth, tossing the candy into his mouth. Soobin could only stare at the audacity, the scene unfolding before him like an intrusion into a world he thought was private. You laughed softly beside him, eyes bright as you turned to Beomgyu and said how glad you were to find someone else who liked lemon candies just as much as you did.

Soobin had a dozen things to say to you. He had stories to share, small and ordinary things of the mundane, and most importantly, you were supposed to talk his ears off as he worked. But with Beomgyu there, every thought dissolved on his tongue before he could speak it, melting away like the candy itself — leaving behind a bitter aftertaste he couldn’t swallow.

Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen you this giddy before, this radiant joy that came when you walked in every Thursday now with Beomgyu trailing behind as you show Beomgyu around, repeating the flower meanings Soobin himself had taught you. Maybe it was because when you explained how yellow carnations meant rejection and disappointment, you were unaware of how the words sat cruelly poetic in his chest. Maybe it was because on Thursdays, you two sat side by side, working through your assignments while Soobin watered stems that no longer needed tending.

It was ridiculous, he knew; you were right there, just a few feet away, but each passing moment made it feel like he was watching from behind glass, separated by a barrier invisible yet impenetrable.

He didn’t expect jealousy to feel like this smoldering ache that crawled up from his ribs, until even breathing felt like torment. So he looked away from where you sat with Beomgyu and fixed his eyes instead on the vase in front of him — a vase full of yellow carnations — and wished the water would somehow saturate the burning ache within him.

Even if he had you to himself for the rest of the week, this single Thursday without you felt like an emptiness that could not be reasoned with.

By the fourth Thursday, Beomgyu had somehow folded himself into the routine. The first few times, Soobin told himself it was temporary, that your friend would grow bored of tagging along to a flower shop but no. It wasn’t even surprising anymore to hear his voice before yours. Soobin was going to need a while to get used to it.

Soobin had tried, for a time, to dislike him on principle. But Beomgyu was unfairly difficult to hate because in all honesty he was a really nice guy. Even Jisoo liked him — especially Jisoo, which only made Soobin’s quiet resentment feel more childish. His morals acted up quickly and Soobin started to feel ashamed for even trying to villanize that poor dude.

Sometimes, at lunch, the four of them ate together. Jisoo would bring pasta or kimbap, Beomgyu would start talking about anything and could turn a dull story into something worth listening to. And you would laugh until your eyes disappeared into crescents. It should’ve been a pleasant routine — it was pleasant — but to Soobin, every laugh sounded like a reminder that the world was far too eager to share you. As stupid as it sounded, but oftentimes, it made Soobin feel like an intruder in his own shop.

On such a Thursday, they gathered around the small table full of disposable boxes, eating lunch and chatting. It wasn’t like Soobin wasn’t participating; he was. With everyone, just to be clear. Even Beomgyu, who for some reason had taken an immense liking to him, declaring him an honorary holder of the “platinum bro code card” and insisting they were now bound by friendship. Said friendship was in the stage where it was mostly Beomgyu landing actual good jokes. And to his inner horror, Soobin actually took them — found himself laughing along, responding, even joking back.

Amid the easy back-and-forth, Soobin’s gaze landed on you for the briefest moment, and his breath caught at the sight of you smiling softly — at him — like you were proud of something he’d said or done without realizing. The sight scattered his composure so he averted his eyes too quickly and, to cover the moment, picked up a forkful of pasta from Beomgyu’s box and shoved it straight into the other’s mouth. Beomgyu squawked through a laugh, nearly choking, while you laughed behind your hand.

By the time the food had dwindled to scraps, Jisoo was the first to excuse himself to check on the nursery. Beomgyu started helping with the clean-up, handing Soobin the empty boxes, and the three of you continued to talk about everything and nothing — university projects, the upcoming rain, some movie Beomgyu insisted you both needed to see.

Soobin stood up from his chair with the boxes when he noticed a smear of sauce at the corner of your lips. He looked around for some tissue to grab but his mind went static when he heard Beomgyu talk. 

“Hey, you’ve got—wait, here,” Beomgyu said, pointing at his own mouth, laughing. “You’ve got something right there—”

That — that imagination of Choi Beomgyu wiping sauce off your lips, right in front of him as he watched it happen, was immensely and totally wrong on many levels. It didn’t sit right with him. He would be one of the biggest fools to walk on earth if he allowed it to happen.

Soobin had already grabbed your chin before Beomgyu could even lift one finger. His knuckles curled beneath your chin, guiding your face toward him before tilting your face up to look at him. Soobin’s eyes were unreadable when he gently wiped the smudge of sauce from the corner of your lips with his thumb — when he brought that thumb to his mouth and licked it clean.

If someone dropped a pin at that moment, the sound would resonate through the entire place.

Without a word, Soobin walked away toward the sink at the back of the shop. He dumped the boxes into the bin, pressed both hands to the edge of the sink with his head bowed and exhaled hard.

He couldn’t explain what possessed him. His pulse was loud in his ears, his thoughts a mess of disbelief and heat. He pressed the back of his hand against his mouth, trying to erase the phantom feeling of your skin beneath his thumb. Your lips were so soft. Fuck. 

It shouldn’t have felt that good. It shouldn’t have felt like anything at all.

He stood there in disbelief realizing how much he wanted to feel it again.

Behind him came the sound of you choking slightly on your next bite of pasta, Beomgyu’s startled voice asking if you were all right followed by the scrape of a chair. Soobin shut his eyes and cursed under his breath, feeling the heat crawl up his neck. 

Despite feeling like his entire body was on fire, Soobin’s lips twitched, the faintest ghost of a smirk forming before he exhaled and tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling.

 He couldn’t believe he’d done that. But God, it felt good.

It was a Thursday like any other. Except this time, when the bell above the door chimed, it wasn’t you who entered. It was Beomgyu, and he was alone.

His mind needed an extra beat to process that the space beside Beomgyu was empty. Soobin’s first thought was something’s happened to you. He hastily checked his phone to see if he missed any texts or calls from you, but there was none.

His focus was momentarily pulled away from you by Beomgyu’s greeting. Soobin, still thrown, returned it with a polite nod while fixing his glasses. But the question pressed insistently behind his composure — what was he doing here, and alone of all things? He never came without you. 

“You can wait in the shop until she comes over. It should be another hour or so.” His hand was already moving toward the small fridge at the corner. “Want anything to drink? I’ve got—uh, iced tea. Coffee, too, if you’d rather—”

A low chuckle interrupted him, stopping him mid-step. “Oh, no.” Beomgyu shook his head. “I’m not here for her. Well—technically, I am.” Then, after a pause that sounded too intentional to make Soobin turn, Beomgyu added with a grin, “But not in the way you think.”

Soobin frowned faintly. “I would appreciate it if you could elaborate on that, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu didn’t answer right away; he drummed his fingers against the counter, gaze sweeping across the room as if admiring the shop. “I wanted a bouquet made.”

The words, on their own, were harmless. Soobin had heard them countless times before. Yet, paired with the conversation’s earlier turn, they carried a strange undercurrent that made his chest constrict. Still, he defaulted to familiarity, grasping at professionalism. “That can be done,” he said, pulling the small catalogue closer and flipping it open to the section on mixed arrangements. “Any idea what kind of flowers you’re thinking?”

“All her favourites.”

The catalogue stilled between his fingers. It took a moment for the words to truly register, and when they did, Soobin felt devastation sinking in his chest. He looked at Beomgyu hastily, mortified. “What?” he blurted out without schooling his tone.

Beomgyu gave a small shrug, his hands slipping into his pockets as if this entire conversation weren’t splitting Soobin open from the inside out. “You know her favourites better than anyone,” Beomgyu said lightly, like that explained everything. “So, really, asking you just made sense.” Then, he tilted his head slightly, that same grin curving into a sly smirk. “I’m thinking of asking her out.”

For a brief, excruciating second, his entire world swayed. Everything around him dissipated until all that remained was white noise that rested upon his eyelids. All he could hear was that sentence repeating itself over and over in the confines of his skull. I’m thinking of asking her out.

“She’s not—” The rest of the sentence collapsed, leaving the words half-born and useless. You weren’t his to defend, and yet, how could he stop the instinct? You were the unreachable star he loved from afar because he thought loving you silently was the only way to keep you safe from his inadequacy and the cruelest part was that it had been entirely his choice. But now, hearing Beomgyu say those words aloud — words that should have belonged to him if he weren’t so terrified of deserving you — was like standing at the edge of a cliff.

“She’s what?” Beomgyu pressed. He straightened, his expression open but his eyes glinting. “What’s stopping me? Unless—” He let his voice trail off, pretending to think, before leaning his elbows on the counter with an exaggerated look of realization. “Unless you’ve got a problem with it.” 

Soobin’s fingers curled against his palms until his nails bit into skin. He had no claim, no right — you were not his, not an object to be guarded or possessed but every fibre of him still burned with the injustice of it. Because his heart always refused to obey what his mind already knew.

“You had your chance,” Beomgyu leaned closer, his voice dipping into a quiet, almost friendly murmur. “You didn’t take it. So tell me, Soobin—why shouldn’t I?”

A terrible and hollow realization dawned upon Soobin that he was standing on the edge of that same invisible cliff again, staring into an expanse where only your name existed, carried faintly by the wind. The room had gone still again; Beomgyu’s words still echoed in the air, but vaguely now. It was almost like Soobin had lost grip on reality.

His love for you had always been immense, alive and untamed, too large for the body that tried to hold it. But what if it wasn’t enough? What if Beomgyu could give you something more deserving than the silent devotion of a man who couldn’t even say the words out loud?

He loved you — so much, so fervently, so ardently — that sometimes he feared his heart might tear itself apart from the strain of it. His love spilled through the cracks of him, too much to hold in his cupped hands. It drenched every part of him, soaked through every thought, and yet he could never seem to give it shape. He was a florist, and perhaps that was why his love had always been wordless. He loved in petals and stems, in silent acts of care hoping you’d somehow see his heart in the language of flowers.

But that was never enough, was it?

He wasn’t a poet, and he was barely a lover. Just a man hopelessly in love, drowning in devotion he could neither voice nor abandon.

When he spoke, his voice sounded unfamiliar to his own ears. “Just—give me a moment,” he murmured to Beomgyu, in almost the same voice he used with customers. “I’ll start on your bouquet right away.”

He turned toward the rows of flowers. Blooms in every shade of tenderness and grief — and he stood there for a long time without moving. Part of him thought, absurdly, that he could be cruel. That he could choose the wrong flowers, something mismatched, something unworthy of you, and hand it to Beomgyu. It would’ve been easy — so heartbreakingly easy — to let pettiness bloom where love had once been.

But his hands wouldn’t listen. Even now, even when his chest ached like an open wound, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He could not arrange a bouquet meant for you with the wrong flowers. He could not betray his love by staining it with spite.

So his hands reach for the stems with memory, with love. He picked the soft pink roses first — the only shade of rose you adored — and paired them with tiny clusters of baby’s breath, white and blush-pink, your favourite of them all. A few sprigs of lavender followed, delicate and faintly fragrant, the scent you always said reminded you of calm. He filled the spaces with greens to make the bouquet feel whole. When it came to wrapping, he didn’t even hesitate to choose a transparent paper, you loved it because it let the colours breathe.

He tied it all together with a thin white satin ribbon, hands steady despite the tremor beneath his skin. By the time he was done, his heart stopped thrashing but there was still a small, sad smile on his lips. When he slid the bouquet across the counter, his voice was distant. 

“It’s done.”

Beomgyu looked at the arrangement, eyes scanning the blooms before smiling almost kindly. “Ah,” he sighed, eyes still on the roses. “These are her favourites, huh? Figures. You really do know her best.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out a few bills and placed them neatly on the counter — but before Soobin could reach for them, Beomgyu nudged the bouquet back across the counter. “Keep the bouquet.”

Soobin’s head lifted, his brow creasing faintly. “Stop the crap, Beomgyu, why would I—”

“You really are hopeless,” Beomgyu muttered, clicking his tongue. Over the counter he jabbed a finger at Soobin’s chest looking him dead in the eye. “You think she doesn’t notice the way you look at her? Take it, before I change my mind.” Beomgyu straightened with an exasperated sigh before softly, like an afterthought, added, “You make it too easy to feel sorry for you, hyung.”

Soobin did not get a chance to ask for an explanation because Beomgyu was already half out the door, then paused with a thoughtful glance over his shoulder. “But I’ll still ask her out,” he said easily. “Because I don’t like losing, or stepping back from a challenge.”

With that, he was gone. 

Soobin stood there in the silence that followed. His eyes lingered on the bouquet that still rested on the counter, petals trembling faintly in the draft that came from the open door.

Somewhere behind him, from the vase crowded with yellow carnations, a single bloom loosened from its stem and fell soundlessly onto the shelf below.

It was the first time Soobin ever kept the shop closed on a FRIDAY.

He stood in the university courtyard, eyes vacant and upturned to the sky as the first drops of rain slid through his hair and seeped into his collar. Yesterday’s encounter with Beomgyu left him grappling with his haywired emotions and then, a few hours later, your text came.

soobiiiin im sorry i cant come by today :((

That simple line added insult to injury. It felt like confirmation of every fear that had been gnawing at him since he saw Beomgyu. He imagined the two of you walking home together under a sky that should’ve been his to share with you. Soobin had spent the rest of that Thursday staring at the same page of the shop ledger, pen idle in his hand, unable to make sense of numbers or words. 

Now, as he came out from his early morning class and stood under the dismal sky, it was as if the sky too understood the depth of his grief and let down its showers in hopes of washing some of it away. He should have looked for shelter but he lingered instead, watching the way water gathered in the cracks between cobblestones, how it carried fallen petals and bits of paper into small streams.

It was, admittedly, not a wise decision to walk home in it. By midday, his throat burned with every swallow, and his nose prickled from the chill. The fever was faint then  — a warning he ignored. It became by afternoon, one of the reasons he had to keep the shop closed. When Jisoo offered to take over for the day, Soobin refused, insisting on locking up entirely and sending him home.

Isolating himself when he was at his lowest was one of Soobin’s many flaws. Despite granting him the space to think, it did nothing to help the fact that he was sick and most of his consciousness had now become a slave to drowsiness. Paired with heartbreak, Soobin was not in the right state of mind to be greeting customers with a smile in a place full of beauty that only reminded him of you.

Had he known you before this? In some other life, were you someone he had loved and lost over and over again? Because none of this made sense. This ache didn’t belong to the present — it felt older, as though it had lived in him long before he ever met you. How long had he been without you to feel this way now?

The fever came and went, mostly in the evenings, leaving him weaker each time it ebbed. One moment he was shivering under the blanket, and the next, heat licked through his skin until even breathing hurt. On the bedside table sat a half-empty glass of water and a few crumpled tissues, a tableau of his own negligence. The medicine packet lay open, though he couldn’t remember if he had taken the next dose or not. His head throbbed too much to care.

He lay sprawled on the bed, hair damp against the pillow. His throat scraped with every swallow, raw from hours of coughing. He’d given up on sitting upright hours ago — even lifting his head felt like work.

Through the blur of half-sleep, he caught sight of the camellias on his balcony swaying in the wind. Their petals were bright even under the grey sky. He stared until the colors melted into the haze of his fever. You liked camellias. He wondered if you were with Beomgyu. The idea soured his stomach and before he realized it, his eyes were watering. He sniffled, pressed the back of his hand to his nose and turned over, trying to will himself into sleep.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep before through the haze, he thought he heard his name. Hallucinating, he decided dimly. Fever dreams, that’s all. But the sound came again, clearer now, closer, and when his eyelids fluttered open, the blur at the edge of his vision focused into… you? 

What were you doing here?

You were standing in the doorway of his room holding a closed umbrella. Your eyes were wide with alarm. For a long second, he wondered if this was still part of the dream. Your voice sounded too real though for it to be a dream. Panicked, even. 

“Oh my god—” You crossed the room in an instant, dropping your bag somewhere near the chair. Your hand landed on his forehead, then his cheek. “Soobin, you’re burning up. What the hell, why didn’t you tell me?” Your voice broke off mid-sentence, tangled with disbelief. “Okay, okay, it’s fine, um—just… just wait for me, okay?”

You disappeared into the kitchen. He picked up a few distinct sounds like the clatter of cupboards, the rush of water from the tap and your hurried footsteps. The mattress dipped beside him, and the next thing he knew, you were pressing a damp towel against his forehead. The shock of it made him flinch, but the relief that followed was enough to draw a small, strangled sigh from him.

You exhaled shakily, wringing out the towel in the bowl you’d brought. “Did you even drink water? Have you taken your meds?” You glanced around at the bedside table, frowning at the open packet. “You probably didn’t take the next dose, did you? Of course you didn’t.”

He tried to speak, but it came out as a rasp, and you shushed him while adjusting the towel again. “Shh, don’t talk,” you said, hand brushing damp hair from his eyes. “You’re such an idiot. You could’ve just called.”

He would have laughed if his throat didn’t hurt so much. He forced his eyes open a little wider, though the effort drained what little strength he had left. It didn’t matter because he wanted to see you properly. 

He must still be dreaming. The fever might have reached its cruelest peak, gifting him a hallucination so gentle it hurt to believe in it. Because how could you be here — in his apartment, taking care of him — when he had spent the past day convincing himself you were better off somewhere else? With someone else.

“I didn’t…” he started weakly, voice little more than a whisper. “Didn’t wanna bother you.”

You stared at him for a beat, lips parting as though to speak. Then you exhaled sharply, almost a laugh but not quite. “Bother me?” you echoed, shaking your head. “You idiot, you—” The words tripped over a breath and you bit them back, your shoulders sagging as if scolding him required more strength than you had. “God, Soobin.”

He closed his eyes when you pressed the cold cloth to his neck this time. You kept changing it, wiping his forehead, brushing damp strands of hair away, murmuring half-thoughts under your breath that he could barely piece together. He caught fragments: too hot, should’ve called, stupid boy, what if. 

After a long silence, he whispered, “Are you mad at me?”

You seemed to still completely, towel halfway to the bowl. Your head turned, confusion written across your features. “Mad at you?” you repeated softly, the disbelief in your voice almost tender. “Soobin, why would I be mad?”

“I didn’t answer your texts,” he mumbled. His voice cracked halfway through. “I thought… maybe you’d—”

His words fell apart midway as a cough wracked through his chest until his ribs ached. You were already reaching for the glass, one hand steadying his shoulder as you lifted it to his lips. “Slowly,” you said, coaxing him to drink. “Small sips. You’ll choke otherwise.”

He obeyed, taking in just enough to ease the burn in his throat. When he settled back, he found you watching him, your expression softening that made his heart twist. You let out a quiet sigh and caressed his temple, fingertips cool against his fevered skin.

“Don’t be stupid,” you said, this time without any sharpness, just a weary affection. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

He looked at you, eyes glossy from fever, and for a moment he felt like he fell in love with you all over again. Te realization that you were — in fact — still there and close enough for him to see the faint tremor of your lashes, to count the breaths you took as each one anchored him to this specific moment. 

“Can you stay?” His hand found yours, clumsy and shaking. “Please? I know you’d rather be—”

“Nowhere else.”

Your fingers tightened around his as your thumb traced steady lines over his knuckles. Then your other hand threaded gently through his hair, brushing it back from his damp forehead. 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than with you,” you murmured, cupping his cheek. 

He thought he might cry again from this strange, fragile joy that flooded his chest. The room soon dimmed, your presence the last thing he felt before sleep dragged him under.

When Soobin woke, the light filtering through the curtains had turned a pale gold that made him squint. His throat still felt scraped raw, but the fire beneath his skin had cooled into a dull warmth; more tolerable now than torturous. He blinked toward the window, then at his phone on the nightstand that read 10:03 a.m.  

The sight should have been comforting had it not been for suddenly seeing your sleeping figure on the couch. You were still in yesterday’s clothes, a blanket draped clumsily over your legs, your head tilted toward your shoulder in an uncomfortable angle. A book lay facedown beside you and on the table next to it sat a glass of water gone flat. You must’ve skipped class, or worse, missed it completely because of him.

He tried to sit up, a poor decision that immediately sent a rush of dizziness through him. He reached out blindly for the bedside table, his palm knocking against the glass and sending it rattling against the wood. The sound startled you awake.

You straightened abruptly, blinking against the light before your eyes snapped to him. “Soobin—hey, what are you doing?” You were already up, the blanket falling from your lap as you crossed the small space between the couch and his bed. The book hit the floor with a dull thud.

He gaped at you, disoriented. “You’re gonna be late,” he said again, fumbling for the blanket as if he could somehow usher you out. “You should go—it’s morning already—you have class—”

You caught his wrist before he could push himself up again, guiding him back to prop up against the headboard. “Soobin,” you lowered your voice, as if coaxing a restless child back into bed. “It’s Saturday.” You pressed a hand to his shoulder, keeping him from rising again.

“Oh,” he said lamely, eyes dropping to the blanket pooled at his waist. “Right. Saturday. Sorry, I still feel a little out of it.” He remembered, belatedly, that you didn’t have classes on Saturdays. 

“Clearly,” you muttered, moving to pick up the fallen book from the floor. “You scared the hell out of me last night.” You set the book down on the nightstand this time, glancing at him over your shoulder before coming to sit at his side on the bed. Soobin scooted away a little to make space for you. 

You stayed seated at his side for a while, waiting until the uneven rhythm of his breathing steadied again. He felt the need to talk to you; didn’t know about what but he still wanted to. You, however, beat him to it.

“Yesterday…” you started, drawing your knees up onto the edge of his bed, “you weren’t answering any calls. I thought maybe you fell asleep early, but then it got late, and you still didn’t text back. So I panicked—a little,” you added quickly, though the faint crease between your brows said otherwise. “I grabbed my umbrella and ran to the shop, thinking maybe you were still there, only to find the door locked and lights out.” You gave a small, humorless laugh, shaking your head.

He did not interrupt you, letting you spew out everything.

“I stood there for five minutes like an idiot before remembering you gave me a spare key, and thank god you did.” You exhaled sharply, pressing your lips together. “I was honestly pretty terrified seeing you like that. You were burning up, Soobin. I know a fever’s supposed to be harmless most times, but it didn’t look harmless to me.”

“It was raining,” he tried to weakly argue but his resolve faltered when you narrowed your eyes. “You could’ve caught a cold. You didn’t even know if I was at home.”

“Even if I knew,” you shot back with a small frown. “What did you expect me to do? Just text ‘feel better’ and go to sleep?”

He let out a small, rough laugh that broke too easily into silence. “I didn’t mean to make you worry.”

“You didn’t mean to,” you echoed softly, glancing down at your hands, “but you still did. Next time, just send a message, alright? It takes two seconds. My heart can only take so much near-death panic.” 

He thought about how easy it was to fall into silence, to let the days fold over him until people stopped asking if he was fine. He’d told himself solitude made things simpler, but looking at you now, eyes still red from lack of sleep and worry, he felt the truth of what it cost.

“I’m sorry,” he said finally, voice thin as paper. The words weren’t only for last night; they bled from deeper parts of his heart for all the times you were made to go through exhausting situations for him.

You leaned forward, reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. “Apology accepted,” you said softly, slipping them on him with care. “I’m just glad you’re okay. I’d hate it if something happened to you and I didn’t know.”

Your fingertipss brushed against his skin before you drew your hand back. His soul felt like it was cleaved wide open. 

The moment was disrupted by the doorbell.

Soobin met your eyes for a brief moment. He had a feeling you both already guessed the identity of your uninvited visitor. Sure enough, Jisoo stood at the door. He was visibly fuming with smoke coming out of his ears. In one arm, he balanced two paper bags, the other occupied with pointing an accusatory finger behind you before you could even greet him.

“Do you have a death wish?” he demanded, stepping inside without invitation. “Because that’s the only logical explanation for this level of idiocy. You look like a dying Victorian child!”

“Good morning to you too,” Soobin muttered from the bed, waving a hand. 

Jisoo ignored that entirely and instead turned back to you to greet you with a smile. He set the bags down on the table, tearing one open. “Breakfast,” he announced, though it sounded less like generosity and more like punishment. “Because apparently I’m surrounded by idiots who forget they are human.”

You tilted your head, assessing the situation. “Soobin, did you tell Jisoo to leave early last night?”

“Oh, he did,” Jisoo fired back, dropping into the chair beside the bed. “he said, and I quote—‘I’m fine, Jisoo, go home, I’ll lock up.’” He deepened Soobin’s voice with painful accuracy. “And now look at him—he looks like he’s been through hell and back!”

Soobin exhaled through his nose, rubbing a palm over his face as if that could erase both fatigue and embarrassment. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” he said, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

Jisoo scoffed, pulling out a thermos from one of the bags and unscrewing the lid with unnecessary force. “That’s the problem—you never think it’s ‘that bad’ until someone has to carry your half-dead body off the floor.” He poured steaming porridge into a bowl and shoved it toward Soobin.

You stifled a laugh behind your hand, murmuring, “He’s not wrong.”

Soobin gave a weak shrug, though his mouth curved slightly. “I’m sorry for making you worry. But I really am fine now.” He hesitated, eyes flickering from you to Jisoo. “I really don’t deserve you guys.”

Jisoo groaned. “You’re damn right you don’t,” he said, though his hands betrayed him by reaching over to pull the blanket back up to Soobin’s chest. He glanced at you briefly, muttering under his breath, “You spoil him too much.”

You arched an eyebrow. “Someone has to. He nearly cooked himself alive yesterday.”

Soobin felt his lips curl into a smile when he saw you and Jisoo exchange a look then — shared exasperation wrapped in affection. Jisoo gave him the stink eye.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re banned from the shop until you can stand without wobbling.” Jisoo straightened his posture and jabbed a finger toward Soobin’s nose, trying to summon authority in front of his boss. Soobin decided to let it go this once. “I’m running it till you’re back, and I don’t wanna hear a single word of protest.”

Soobin raised his hands in surrender, that same faint smile growing genuine. “I wasn’t going to argue.”

“Good,” Jisoo muttered, snatching up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. “Because I’ve already hidden the spare keys. Don’t even try to look for them.”

You snorted. “He will, you know.”

“Then I’ll move them again.” Jisoo huffed, shooting Soobin one last warning glance before heading for the door. He paused, turning back just long enough to add, more softly, “Just rest, alright? You can’t run a shop if you drop dead first.”

The days blurred into each other after that. You came every day, sometimes with food, sometimes with books and the only difference was that before, it was you coming over to his shop, and now, in his home. In a sense, nothing really changed at all.

He had told you it wasn’t necessary, more than once, but you never listened. And though he tried to keep a respectable distance in fear of spreading his flu to you, standing by the counter while you moved about the stove, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in. the same treacherous ones that painted pictures of you staying longer than you should, of your books finding space beside his, of a life that wasn’t temporary.

A vision of you living with him; something he wanted to coin as ‘forever’.

He had to snap out of his daydreams before the longing killed him. 

One afternoon, you appeared holding a small stack of papers bound together with a paperclip. You placed it on his lap where he was sitting on his bed reading a book.

“What’s all this?” he asked, pushing his glasses up and flipping through the pages.

“Notes,” you replied, as if it were obvious. “I asked your classmates to send me what you’ve missed so far.”

He glanced from the stack to your face and back again. He was stunned by your thoughtfulness, and perhaps he looked like a gaping fish at a loss of words because you took one look at him and snorted.

You didn’t look particularly pleased with yourself. You sat cross-legged on the floor near the coffee table and uncapped your pen with a click. “It’s not a big deal. You’d do the same if it were me.”

He didn’t say anything to that but you both knew you weren’t wrong about it. Yet, Soobin learned that being around you makes him want to do better, and be more outspoken with his feelings. And he wanted to be better for you.

He let out a soft, “Thank you.”

You waved a hand, already bent over your workbook. “Don’t get sentimental on me. It’s barely anything.” A pause, the faint scratch of your pen against paper, and then you added almost absently, “Oh—Beomgyu’s coming by to help at the shop.”

The back of his neck stung. “Beomgyu?”

“Mhm,” you hummed, not looking up. “He offered. Said he could help restock and handle the counter till you’re better. You should hurry up and recover soon—the flowers are starting to sulk without you.” 

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “The flowers are fine.”

“No, they’re not,” you countered softly, still writing. “They miss you.”

There was a pause — long enough for him to think that was the end of it, and his mind started to wander to unpleasant territory after hearing beomgyu’s name. Before he could think of what to say, your pen stopped moving, your eyes still fixed on the page.

“I miss you.”

Soobin’s gaze stilled despite the storm that began to brew behind his eyes. Beomgyu’s words resurfaced in his mind— you think she doesn’t notice the way you look at her? — and for a fleeting second, Soobin thought maybe you did know. Maybe you had known all along.

Because the things you said to him, the way you treated him, they lifted him to the heavens and gave him hope. Hope that he feared might betray him if it was misplaced. However, the question still hung unspoken in his mind — about Beomgyu, about what he’d said, about whether he’s going too ahead of himself and reading your intentions wrong and if your words just now were only friendly. Because Soobin couldn’t really tell.

Thinking about the devil brings him to your doorstep — Soobin should’ve believed that phrase by now.

“Yo, boss,” Beomgyu drawled from the doorway, grin wide and infuriating. He was leaning one shoulder against the frame. “Still alive, I see.”

You turned, delighted. “Beomgyu! You’re here early.”

He flashed you a smile too clean to be sincere. “Jisoo needed help with the new shipment, didn’t he? Why don’t you go lend him a hand? I’ll keep Soobin company.” His tone was harmlessly casual.

Soobin only gave a mild nod when you glanced his way, though the faint crease between his brows betrayed his suspicion. Beomgyu’s grin dwindled into a smirk the moment you left. He even had the audacity to wink at Soobin.

Soobin exhaled through his nose, setting his book aside. “If you’re here to bother me, just say so.”

“Not bother,” Beomgyu said, moving toward the windows and flicking open the latch to let in a stream of morning air. “Motivate!” He plucked an apple from the fruit bowl on the cabinet, turning it over in his hand as though appraising its worth. “So, did you miss me?”

Soobin wanted to get to the point. “Did you succeed then?” He regarded him dryly. 

Beomgyu sank into the couch across from him, taking a bite of the apple. “In taking her out? Yeah.” He let out an exaggerated sigh, placing a hand over his heart. “But the entire time—” he waved the apple vaguely in the air, “—she talked about you.”

Soobin blinked, the words slipping past him at first — until they didn’t. “What do you mean ‘talked about me’?”

“I meant exactly what I said,” Beomgyu spoke around another bite, before standing up and pacing slowly around the room. “Couldn’t get two sentences in without your name popping up. I knew right away I didn’t stand a chance. Gotta say, though, it bruised my ego a little.” He pointed the apple at Soobin. “So maybe, y’know, man up and take your chance already. You’d do everyone—and their mothers—a favour.”

Soobin could only stare off in space. His thoughts ran in frantic circles, every word Beomgyu said setting off sparks behind his eyes. You talked about him? That much? He tried to picture what you might’ve said, what parts of him you thought worth mentioning — and found the idea too delicate for his overjoyed heart.

Beomgyu snapped his fingers in front of his face. “Hey. Earth to Soobin.” He squinted, then pointed the apple again. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me you’re daydreaming right now. Look at you — you’re totally fantasizing about her. Ewwwww~”

“What— no!” Soobin spluttered, grabbing the nearest pillow and hurling it across the room.

Beomgyu ducked, laughing so hard his shoulders shook. “You totally are! Look at you, all flushed. You’re hopelessly in love.” he managed between breaths.

Soobin groaned into his hand. “Did you ever like her?” The question slipped out. He looked up again, cautious but curious. “You said you did.”

Beomgyu’s laughter died down to a few huffs as he sank into the couch again, still grinning. “Alright, fine. Serious talk.”

Soobin frowned, getting up from bed. “Did you?” he repeated as he fetched a glass of water from the kitchen.

“Oh. Uh, not like that.” Beomgyu chewed on his lip, then shrugged. “I like her, sure — she’s a good person. But romantically? Nah.” He gestured loosely toward Soobin, eyes glinting with mischief again. “You were giving me such a look that day, so I figured I’d rile you up a little. Didn’t think it’d work that well.”

Soobin frowned, recalling the unease he’d felt that Thursday when Beomgyu had mentioned asking you out. The irritation resurfaced, though now mingled with reluctant embarrassment. “That’s not what you said last Thursday.”

Beomgyu smirked, tossing the apple core into the bin. “What, you thought I was serious?”

Soobin stared at him, words slipping through his grasp. Nothing about him moved except the faint twitch in his jaw.

Beomgyu hesitated. “Hey, don’t look at me like that,” he said, laughter bubbling up again. “You can’t tell me it wasn’t funny.”

It wasn’t. For days, he had been haunted by that single conversation, replaying it in the back of his mind. He could still feel the echo of every unnecessary thought he’d had since. Soobin came to a conclusion right then and there that if there’s anyone who could test his patience to an excruciating extent, it’s Choi Beomgyu. How ridiculous, he thought. How utterly, painfully ridiculous to have spent nights overthinking when Beomgyu had only wanted a laugh.

Soobin gently put the glass down on the table before taking a deep breath. The next thing Beomgyu knew, he was caught in a headlock.

“HEY—WAIT—SOOBIN—!”

Their shouts and laughter resonated through the apartment; Beomgyu shrieking for his life while Soobin held him in place, spewing half-hearted curses until it felt less like a sickroom and more like the friendship that was bound to take root.

SATURDAY made Soobin ricochet between certainties and doubts until you gently cradled his heart in your palms and kissed it.

Jisoo had dragged everyone out on the excuse of celebrating Soobin’s recovery, but the moment the bill arrived, all eyes turned to him with suspicious coordination. Beomgyu was the first to pat his shoulder and declare that the boy who lived should at least buy lunch. Jisoo nearly choked on his drink from laughing, and you—of all people—hid your grin behind the rim of your glass as if your loyalty could be bought with a smile. Soobin had sighed, pulled out his wallet, and decided that maybe feeding his friends was still preferable to the silence of his empty apartment.

When the meal ended, Jisoo announced that he’ll return to the shop, encouraging Soobin to ‘enjoy the rest of the day’. Beomgyu stayed behind for a moment, leaning closer to Soobin under the pretense of fixing his shirt. “If you don’t say something today, I swear I’ll do it for you,” he threatened with a smile. “You’ve had two years, Soobin. Make your move.” Then he gave Soobin a shove that nearly made him stumble into you, and left before Soobin could even retort.

That left you and him standing under the awning. He, too, wanted to make the most of the time and was unwilling to let the day end. “Do you want to do anything else before heading home?” he asked, trying to sound casual but praying you wouldn’t say no.

You tilted your head slightly and smiled as if you were already one step ahead of him. “Actually, yes,” you said, unlocking your phone and holding it out for him to see. On the screen was a poster for a lantern festival not far from the riverside. “It says it starts at sunset. We could go check it out?”

“Of course. I’ll take you there.”

The venue was a mosaic of color and sound. Children ran around with paper lanterns shaped like stars and rabbits; vendors shouted over each other selling skewers, candied fruit, roasted chestnuts. You reached for his sleeve more than once, tugging him toward stalls that caught your eyes — an old man folding paper cranes, a painter who would draw quick portraits in ink. Soobin bought you skewered fishcakes and handed one over before you even asked, his lips tugging up when you took it with an exaggerated hum of approval. At one point, you dragged him toward a photo booth tucked between two food stalls. The flash caught the softest smile he’d worn in weeks.

By the time the sun began to fall, the crowd had thickened. Soobin had his height advantage but he was worried about you since you didn't do well in crowds. While he was thinking of taking you to a much less crowded place, his entire mind came to a static stop when he felt your hand slipping into his. You looked up at him, eyes reflecting the orange of a hundred paper lanterns. Your fingers slowly intertwined with his. You didn’t say anything, but the small curve of your smile was enough to make him forget every other noise around him.

When the call came for everyone to light their lanterns, Soobin took one and handed it to you. Together, you crouched near the edge of the riverbank, the paper glowing faintly between your palms. Around you, the first wave of lanterns began to rise, painting the twilight sky with gold.

“Make a wish,” you giggled, your eyes falling shut.

Soobin looked at you instead. The wind lifted a strand of your hair; the light touched your face in a way that made every thought blur. He could have wished for many things but all that came to him was you.

When you opened your eyes again, you smiled and released the lantern. It drifted upward, joining the others until it became just another glowing dot among others.

“Hey, Soobin?” You kept watching the sky. “Do you worry too much about expressing yourself all the time? specially with me?”

He turned to you, brows drawing together. “What makes you say that?”

You chuckled softly, the sound easing into the evening air. “Because I like every side of you. Even when you’re quiet. Some silences feel empty, but ours never does. You know how people say certain silences are so comfortable that you could sit in them forever? I feel that with you.”

Soobin suddenly thought of the bouquet Beomgyu made him make, the one he never gave you. “Can I take you somewhere before you go home?” he asked suddenly. It had to be now. 

“Sure,” you said, curious. “Where?”

“My shop.”

Jisoo’s shift ended earlier so the shop was empty.

Soobin gave you a dimpled smile as you perched yourself on the stool near the counter. Witht the same devotion and love, his hands put together a bouquet of you rfavourite flowers. You watched him fondly, it was that intensity of your gaze that made it hard for him to keep his hands steady. He felt like he put extra care into making this one, tracing every micro expression on your face when he held the bouquet in front of you.

“What’s all this?” you asked, laughing softly as you took it.

“My way of saying thank you,” he said, pushing his glasses up. “And my way of saying I’m sorry. For making you worry when I was sick… and for everything else. For everything you’ve done for me.”

You held the bouquet close, nose brushing against the petals. “They’re beautiful,” you said sincerely. “Thank you, Soobin.”

He smiled but what he wanted was to close the space between you, to hold you instead of the air. The thought stayed caged behind his ribs, fluttering restlessly as you smiled at him over the flowers.

He walked you back home that night. It was truly a miracle he hadn’t fallen apart already when everytime your knuckles brushed against his. As stupid as that sounded because, matter of fact, he’d held your hand before, more times than he could count, and yet here he was again, reduced to a mess by a passing touch. There were flowers that withered slower than the way he fell apart in your presence. 

When you stepped inside to put the bouquet away, he stayed by the door, listening to the faint sounds of your movement within. The hallway was hushed and in that quietness, Soobin tried to steady his thoughts. He didn’t know what to say to you anymore. What could he possibly say that wouldn’t ruin this? Loving you in silence was torture, but maybe it was safer than the ache of losing you. He leaned his head back against the wall, exhaling slowly, watching your shadow spill through the doorway. 

Maybe this was enough, he told himself. Maybe loving you in silence was safer.

After you returned, the sight of you made that illusion crumble all over again. He could tell you were tired. He wanted to reach out, to brush his thumb under your eye and tell you to rest, to promise you the whole world if it meant keeping that light in your face. Instead, he said, “It’s been a long day. Get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

He shifted his weight when you only stared at him. He couldn’t read what you were thinking, and that scared him more than he wanted to admit. So, true to habit, he did what he always did when he got too close to the edge — he started to walk away. It was easier to retreat before the ground gave way beneath him. Easier to run from what his heart kept whispering.

“Can I tell you something?”

Your voice cut through the silence, a little hesitant. Soobin froze mid-step, the air catching in his throat. He turned around slowly, afraid of what you might say yet hoping it would be everything he’d been wishing for.

“Since meeting you,” you began, then paused for a brief moment to collect your thoughts, “I actually began wishing for more time. I want more time with you. Every time I’m with you, you make me feel so happy, just by being you.”

Soobin’s lips parted slowly. His mind went blank, completely overtaken by the rush in his chest. Were you saying what he thought you were? Confirming everything he had buried under restraint and fear? His pulse thundered, and he could feel it in his throat, in his fingertips, in the space between you. 

You were nervous. He could tell the way you pressed your palms together and averted his eyes. “Gosh, I must sound insane right now,” you murmured, your voice dipping into a hesitant chuckle, “but I can’t think of a single thing I’d rather do right now. I just want to be close to you.” You glanced down, then lifted your eyes back to him, a tiny, resigned smile finding your lips. “Are you going to make me wait much longer?”

All he could think was — were you asking him not to run anymore? Were you telling him it was safe to fall?

Soobin couldn't take it anymore. All this time he’d known you, he wanted nothing more than to freely love you. He wanted more than just yearning gazes and fleeting brushes of touch. He wanted to let himself have you, to allow the current of love rush through him.

In two strides he closed the distance, his hands cupping your face before he dipped his head. When his mouth met yours, the force of it stole the breath from both of you — lips colliding with a hunger that had been building up for months.

The poets were so damn wrong because kissing you didn’t feel like setting off fireworks; it felt like returning to his rightful home. 

A sigh passed from you to him at the first contact, followed by a broken sound from the back of your throat when he slid his hand into your hair to pull you closer, closer, closer to him. The noise was so small yet ruinous that it made him want to fall to his knees.

Soobin had to hold onto the doorframe above your head when you arched into him, when your hand had to scramble for the same doorframe behind you while the other clutched at the front of his shirt, knuckles white, as holding him was the only thing keeping you upright. He could feel the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath his thumbs as they brushed along your jaw. And gods, he’d been right — your lips were soft, impossibly so. Now that he got a taste of your lips, Soobin had to figure out later how not to get addicted to them. 

Every thought in his head dissolved into the warmth of you. All those nights he had spent trying to reason with himself, all those what-ifs and not-yets, burned away in the press of your mouth against his. He’d never known what it was to want something so wholly, so ruinously, until you. He knew already that he could never go back from this, that he didn’t want to.

You broke the kiss first, your breath brushing against his as you whispered, “Stay the night. Please?”

Holy fuck. You really had no idea what you did to him, did you? Soobin dazedly stared at you and thought, if this woman tacked on the words please onto any request, he would find a way to fulfill it. 

He muttered a curse under his breath and went back to devouring you. His pulse roared in his ears as he pushed you inside, the door clicking shut behind him with his heel. He hadn’t broken the kiss once as you stumbled backward, your shoes slipping off in your scramble to match his pace, both of you breathing hard as if you had run a mile to get here. His hands were everywhere; holding your face, slipping into your hair, grabbing the back of your neck, running down your sides, back, hips — they couldn’t decide on a destination because every road led to you. 

He still couldn’t believe this was happening as he kissed you even deeply, he still couldn't believe you were kissing him back with equal amount of passion. He licked into you, but not too much or too fast, just enough to ask permission and you opened your mouth. The heat of your tongue gliding over his made him whimper, feeling high already from so little. 

It was a good thing the sofa was near because any more minute and he’d collapse into a puddle. When the back of your knees hit the sofa, he caught you, guiding you down gently. You sank into the cushions, looking up at him as he towered above you. Your cheeks were flushed, your lips swollen, and your gaze pulled him in until he felt dizzy with it. For a suspended moment, the room was filled with nothing but the sound of your laboured breathings.

His gaze moved over you in a haze of disbelief, the rise and fall of his chest uneven as if his body was struggling to keep up with his heart. He had imagined this too many times but imagination had nothing on the way to finally feel you like this, to have your scent clinging to his skin, to taste your lips. It felt surreal, intoxicating, overwhelming in every sense.

“Two years,” he roughly said as he leaned down, his words trembling against your skin. “I tried—God, I really tried not to want you like this.”

His hand found the back of the sofa beside your head for support, his other resting against your cheek. He slid one knee in between your thighs as it dug into the cushion. He did an experimental press up against your heat, watching the way you jerked up with a hitched breath, your eyes falling shut once before opening again as one of your hands came to rest on that knee. 

“You’re all I’ve been thinking about,” he confessed, his voice breaking between each word. “Every damn day.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, then the curve of your cheek, before finding your mouth again. The way your fingers slipped into his hair tugging slightly made him shudder, and he groaned against your lips at the sensation, his breath catching in the space between one heartbeat and the next. But he kissed you with a slowness that contradicted the rush inside him; he kissed you as if he were learning the world all over again, as though every touch of yours rewrote what he thought he knew about longing.

“I’m so tired of pretending I’m fine around you,” he murmured against your skin, pulling back just enough to look at you. His hand found your cheek again, his thumb tracing beneath your eye. “Every time you smiled at me, it hurt. Every time you said my name, I thought I was going to lose it. And I kept telling myself it was better this way—that I could handle it—but I can’t. I can’t anymore.”

You laughed softly. You looked beautiful. It made him smile too. 

“I know, Soobin,” you said, biting your lip to suppress the growing grin. Your hand traced the line of his jaw, gentle and familiar. “You’re not really good at pretending. I’ve always known, more or less. But I didn’t want to act on my gut feeling alone. I had to be sure.”

His expression faltered. He felt and probably looked like he might actually cry, he couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid. “I’m sorry,” he whispered earnestly. “I should’ve said it sooner—should’ve done something—but I was so damn scared of ruining us. And now I don’t care anymore. I don’t want to waste the time we have. Not one more second.”

Your smile softened, eyes shining as you nodded. “Me neither.”

His heart was full as he shared a tender smile with you. Then he held your hand and pulled you up with him before changing the position, pulling you back down again. He hauled you easily onto his lap — running his hands along your sides before gliding them over your back, then down to the small of your back before pressing you against him. If he could he’d hold you closer until no one could tell apart where you began and he ended.

He’s trailing kisses down the torrid skin of your jaw, your neck, your collarbones before biting down on the supple flesh, eliciting a strained moan from you. You tilted your head back and gave him full access, which he took without hesitation. His glasses bumped into your skin, which made him irritated and swiftly took it off with a ‘tsk’ before putting it aside somewhere on the sofa.

“Let me love you,” he whispered. He felt your throat bobbed against his mouth when you swallowed and nodded, letting out another soft sound that had his mind reeling, and he felt his cock twitch at the thought of just how much louder he could make you. “Let me take care of you, please.”

His name fell from your lips as you screwed your eyes shut when he held you by the hips and made you grind against him. He looked up at you from this angle and he thought this is probably what heaven looked like. But it wasn’t enough. He wanted more, more than just feeling you rub against his growing bulge through all these damn layers of clothes. 

In one quick motion he set you down on the sofa, cracking a smile at your dazed yet confused look. Soobin exhaled before sinking to his knees in front of you.

You gave him a shy smile as you got into a more comfortable position, letting his hands rest on your thighs. This sight — he gazed up at you from where he’s kneeling — he’s willing to worship for the rest of his life. He kissed each of your thighs, then his hands trailed over to the waistband of your jeans.

“Tell me to stop if you don’t want this,” he was begging you. He didn’t think he could ever stop though. “I’ll stop if you say it. I swear.” “Dont stop.” You reached down to unbutton your jeans. “Please, Soobin. Don’t stop.”

He reached back up to clash his mouth to yours again as his hands yanked your jeans all the way down with a little bit of your help. By now Soobin was already heady, and when he sat back on his heels to come face to face with the sight of your dampened panties, translucent from the slick pooling in between your thighs, he nearly ruined his own pants. Soobin hadn't even touched you directly and you were already a mess.

“Oh, God,” he groaned, thumb circling your clit over the fabric as he drank up all your twitches and gasps. A sense of pride filled him at the fact that this was him who drew you over to this crest. It was all him — the reason behind this sopping pleasure of yours. 

“Soobin—oh fuck, ah,” you arched, throwing your head back when he ran his tongue up the length of the wet spot you made. 

The first taste through this barrier filled his senses to the brim, shockwave travelling to his fingertips before returning and plummeting his sanity somewhere down to his dick. Soobin couldn’t fight the moan that got muffled against your heat, following that line with the flat of his tongue, then again with the point. He gripped your thighs and hips desperately, urging you to grind on his face as he ravished you through the flimsy cloth. 

The sound of your pleasure, the taste of you, and your, fuck — there was your hand gripping his hair. He was huffing and taking short breaths, impatience getting the best of him before he almost ripped your panties off of you and threw it somewhere behind him.

There was a ringing in his ear as he looked up at you through his lashes, eyes wide and obedient because in this moment, he felt like he was made to kneel at your feet. You were flushed and breathing heavily but looked extremely beautiful like this. He grabbed your hips and tugged you closer to the edge making you yelp softly.

“I promise I’ll be good for you.” He guided your trembling thighs over his shoulders as he lowered his face to your pussy, never taking his searing eyes off of yours. “So promise me you won’t stop looking at me. Please?”

You nodded quickly, a shaky hand taking purchase in his hair again. “I promise.”

The moment those words left you, he dived into you, his tongue licking a long stripe along your folds, lapping up your arousal — fuck. Fucking hell this is what you tasted like? You tasted so divine, so intoxicating that Soobin had to gather himself after the first lick. It felt like a sin that he only tasted you through a barrier earlier. It felt like a heinous sin that he’d been deprived of this pussy for so long. You were all arounf him. His name coming out of your lips in between gasps and cries, and —

“Oh, God. Fuck, Soobin, you’re so good—yes, yes, just like that—”

— oh.

You were praising him. His vision blurred through the eye contact — the one you promised to not break and true to your words you’ve never once did — and he felt like a flower blooming and meeting the light for the first time. Soobin buried himself deeper into your heat, nose bumping against your sensitive bundle of nerves while he tongued your entrance and drank up every drop of your essence. He was drunk, so high on you as he watched you let out a high pitched gasp when he eased in two fingers, feeling your folds stretching then clamping around his thickness.

He promised you he was going to be obedient so he picked up every micro reaction you gave at every thrust of his fingers, every tremble of your body when he sucked on your clit before swriling the tip of his tongue over it until he figured out what was going to take him to guide you over the edge. But looking at you, it didn’t seem like he was going to need to do much work anyway. 

He could feel you spasming around his fingers, your moans falling faster and needier as your thighs closed around his head. He was suffocating but it felt excruciatingly good that his eyes rolled back but no — no, he had to hold your gaze, needed to watch you fall apart and amidst that all Soobin palmed himself, groaning into you. With one final stroke up your sweet spot, he brought you over a mind shattering orgasm — for you, and him.

It was the scrape of your fingers in his scalp that made him cum, his release lifting off an invisible burden from his shoulders as he felt himself slipping into a state of pure bliss. Soobin came to his senses belatedly when you said his name. He was unmoving, mouth still attached to your quivering pussy when he swallowed, feeling you dripping down his throat. 

You looked utterwly wrecked. Skin glistening with sweat as your chest heaved. It brought a shy smile to face as he sat back up on his heels. “Was it alright?” he meekly asked, wiping his chin.

You breathlessly laughed, pushing yourself up on one hand. “It was everything I've ever dreamed of.” 

Soobin’s eyes darkened slowly when you touched his jaw and pushed your thumb on the plump of his bottom lip. You smeared your release over his lip before pushing your thumb inside his mouth. He moaned around your finger before sucking, letting you thumb down his tongue as saliva pooled around it. He felt his dick twitch again, shamelessly getting hard once more. 

“Kiss me,” you said, and who even was he to deny your request? 

He pushed his tongue past your lips, letting you taste yourself and the sensation was so overwhelming that it drew out a groan from you. It was messy and hot, it was downright filthy but Soobin would give up on anything to experience this for the first time ever again. 

“Soobin,” you softly whined against his lips, pulling back to look at him with a hunger that mirrored his, “I don’t want to stop yet. I need more. I need you.”

He was as desperate as you were, maybe even more. “I could spend the rest of my life making you feel good.” and then his hand was slipping under your shirt, gliding over the hot skin and tracing every dip, every curve before he hoisted you up easily. “Let’s get comfortable first, yeah?” he spoke against your mouth as your legs wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, never once separating from your lips.

Once he reached your bedroom, he placed you down gently on the bed before settling himself in between your legs. The rest of your clothes messily came off, neither of you wanting to waste another second and only wanting to feel each others’ naked skin. Soobin had to pause and sit back on his heels as he admired you, unable to fathom that he was truly seeing you in the way he had only ever dreamed of. 

He grabbed a moundful of one of your breasts, your perky nipple peeking in between his long fingers while he dipped his head down and took the other one in his mouth. How come you tasted so good everywhere? Soobin was going to become gluttonous because of you. Not that he minded. He loved hearing your little gasps. You were so sensitive from just moments ago but you were already gushing again. 

“Soobin, please, please,” you cried out when he stroked you slowly betwen your folds. Despite how wet you were, he was worried his size was going to be too much for you. He had to make you pliant as much as possible. 

“Tell me if it gets uncomfortable. Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He panted as he pumped himself slowly. It wasn’t like Sooobin had his calm either. He was flushed and sweaty, trembling in every movement he made. He’s been thrumming with the electricity of want himself. He didn’t know how long he could keep going before his brain turned mushy too. He watched the way your glazed over eyes took in his size; it filled him with equal amounts of pride and worry. “Tell me what you want, alright? I’ll do anything.”

His cockhead slid in between your folds as the tip bumped your clit, restinf over your abdomen. A guttural groan escaped his chest when he realized he was almost touching the underneath of your navel. Shit, will you be alright? He had no time to overthink when you reached out to wrap your hand around him, making his entire body twitch in pleasure. He was hot and hard in your hand as you guided his tip back to your wet entrance.

“I trust you.” You laid back and smiled at him. Soobin, again, felt like he was falling in love with you all over again. 

He held your thighs more apart, large hands massaging the supple flesh of them. Soobin used his thumbs to spread open your pussy before directly letting a glob of spit fall onto your hole. You squealed, clearly surprised, but seeing how you clenched around air desperately made him learn that you could be into it. He made a mental note to explore this more some other time.

He lathered his saliva with your slick as he nudged his leaking tip along your slit, making you whimper and jerk up your hips to get more friction, but Soobin placed a large hand over your abdomen and held you down in place.

“Come closer. I want to hold you,” you mumbled, making him comply easily.

He kissed you, so deeply, so fiercely, that the gasp you let out when he slowly sheathed himself inside you was entirely devoured by his mouth. Soobin’s mouth hung open, puffing against the hot skin of your neck as he couldn’t decide where to focus; the sheer euphoric wave of pleasure as your warmth enveloped him or on the fingers clawing his back. Even with the thick slick of your combined orgasms, he could tell you needed time to accommodate the stretch. 

“I’m sorry—ah, I'm so sorry, love,” he kept apologizing softly, giving you time to adjust as he slowly sank into your aching core. He gritted his teeth, jaw clenching as he had to fight the urge to cum from just feeling your tight walls clench around him. You were a gasping mess, writhing beneath him as you dug your nail across his back. “T—Take all the time you need.”

He bottomed out fully as he held himself up on his arms around your head, face resting in the crook of your neck where he peppered soft kisses to help you relax. You were fluttering madly around him. After a moment Soobin felt you squeeze his bicep as he looked at you, and when you nodded at him through the haze of pleasure, he began to set a careful languid rhythm. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, and finally started to loose his already fraying composure. If he planned to fuck you slowly, it was going to take a lot of willpower to do that. Your moans rang sweetly beside his ear as you clung to him tighter with every thrust. Soobin tried to hold on to sanity when he felt your hand trail up to the hair on his nape, curling and tugging on a fistful. He whimpered, pathetically so, picking up the pace of his thrusts. 

Soobin’s head reeled when he stared at where his cock slid wetly in and out of your sopping pussy. It wasn’t just that sight that set his mind and every part ablaze. It was the visible outline of a bulge growing in your abdomen at a specific angle every time he thrusted up into you.

Your hands travelled from the back of his neck to cup his face as you made him look at you instead. The smile you wore, so fucked out and dazed, sent his already racing heart thudding painfully in his chest. “You feel so good, Soobin,” you breathed out through choked pants. “I’ve never wanted anyone like this before.”

He shuddered at your praises, one hand sliding down your thigh before pushing it up to your chest. This angle made you feel more open and made him hit even deeper. And yet, Soobin was holding himself back in fear of hurting you and he could tell you knew that too. You felt that too.

So when you kissed him and mumbled against his lips, “You don’t have to hold back—it’s okay.” — he let himself fall into your plea. 

Your faces were near, passing breaths between that small space before claiming it again, and again, and again. The depraved sound of skin against skin along with your mingling groans and gasps resonated off the walls of the room. He could feel you clenching around him, your moans getting louder and needier.

“Soobin—’m close,” is all you managed before crying out, back arching and pressing onto him flushed.

You gripped him like a vice, your body quivering when you finished, his name spilling from you so sinfully that it drove him over the edge. It caused him to become the louder one then — groans and grunts as his thrusts became sloppier, helping you ride out your orgasm before he buried himself to the sheath in one last deep thrust and spilled inside you. 

There was a beat of silence as you both chased for air. Soobin panted through his mouth, eyes blown wide as he relived the entire situation in his mind again. He brushed your hair out of your sweaty forehead, fingers threading to your scalp as he pulled out of you. The feeling made you whimper as you buried your face into his arm, eyes screwed shut. You were seriously going to be the death of him. He saw the way his cum leaked out of you in bulk waves, feeling his dick twitch at the sight. Shit, shit, shit was this okay?

“I’m safe if you’re worried about it,” you gently assured him, then patted the space beside you. “Lie down beside me.”

“I will,” he promised before linking your fingers with his and kissing your knuckles. “I need to clean you up first. Give me a moment, love. I’ll be back.”

True to his words he returned with a damp towel. He pressed it softly against your skin, wiping away the sheen of sweat, cleaning you thoroughly before helping you go to the bathroom. 

His eyes, dark yet brimming with adoration, never once strayed from yours. In their depths lived every confession he had ever swallowed and every longing he had buried that had bloomed in the spaces between your shared glances. Soobin took in the gentleness of your gaze, the way it mirrored his own, and let himself smile. He reached out, his hand brushing against your wrist before tugging you gently down beside him on the bed. The bed dipped beneath your combined weight, and he gathered you against him, drawing the covers over your bodies until only your breaths filled the air, warm and uneven.

For one fragile second he still wondered if this could be a dream, some mercy granted to a man who had spent too long convincing himself he didn’t need what he did. But then you looked up at him, eyes shimmering like dawn breaking through, and whispered the words that undid every doubt. “I love you.”

He tilted his forehead against yours, eyes closing, before capturing your lips in a kiss that trembled with everything he could not say fast enough. He sealed the words against your mouth before murmuring them back to you.

“I love you. Until the end of time.”

The roses you’d placed on the shelf of your room — the bouquet he made for you — bore witness to this undying love. They would fade with time, but he knew this night, this joining of breaths and words and souls, would not.

Time flew in a strange way on SUNDAYS.

There had been a time in Soobin’s life when he felt that way because you were there under the same roof, guiding the old couple around the flower shop and still, you felt impossibly far from his grasp. He used to fill that distance with his longing in silence. Back then, the hours spent beside you seemed to stretch endlessly and vanish all at once. Sundays used to hurt in their beauty.

Soobin bowed to a customer leaving with a bouquet wrapped in paper the shade of cream roses, he straightened and glanced toward the nursery. Beyond the windowpane, warmth spilled in from the morning sun. You stood there with Mrs. Park, tracing your fingers over the petals of the sunflowers, saying something that made her laugh.

It was still Sunday, still the same hour, but the time passed differently now. Because when you turned, when your eyes met his and you smiled that unguarded smile that reached him like light through a break in clouds, he no longer had to hoard his love in silence. There was a space now for his love to rest, a place for his yearning to call home. Every emotion now spelled your name; every heartbeat found its answer.

You, you, you.

The seconds no longer slipped away; they held still in their sweetness, suspended in their fullness. It felt different — so achingly different — because Soobin finally knew he had all the time in the world with you. Love was no longer something he waited for; it was the air he breathed, the sunlight that kept finding him every new day. He could finally call this forever.

There are loves that blossom silently, and there are loves that consume. Love chose him as its sole vessel the moment you stepped into his still life and made it breathe. Because you were not merely the person he loved.

You were the garden and the grave where Soobin would bury himself. Willingly, ardently, and without return.

THE END.

His head is on your chest, then he snuggles close like a kitten, "Babe, you did that to a plushie! I'm sure the teddy bear felt very violated." His stubble grazes against your neck. You let out a soft hum in response, pulling his hand over your chest and putting yourself in a very comfortable position for the cuddle session.

"Oh come on, it was soft and my fingers just slid in. Just like your cunt. What am I supposed to do?" His fingers explore your body, casual touches feather light on your skin. You let out gasps, trying to focus on the conversation because it's not everyday that you get to tease him, "I don't know, baby. Exercise self-control?"

His smug "Oh yeah" pisses you off every time. He's so hot when he says it. Your breath hitches for a short second. Two lithe fingers push the lace aside and your pussy starts to throb right away in anticipation.

It's muscle memory. The gentle caress of the tip of his fingers. The press of his middle finger with intention. The smooth slide. Your adorable gasp. Everything is practised precision. He hums this time, "You exercise self-control first. Then I'll think about it." These intentional movements drive you crazy. You want to curse at him when he steals your climax.

His soft words against your skin, make the heat pool in your lower stomach. "See, she just lets me in, just like that" He presses deeper, a second passes before the next finger slides in just as smoothly. "Your pussy is perfect for me— can't wait to just thrust in and sleep."

God his words are filthy, "Won't you keep me warm my angel? I didn't train your pretty little cunt for nothing, did I?" The feeling of his dick against your thigh sets off all scenes that had happened. The heat radiating from him does nothing to help, "Ah— fuck please oh my—" He doesn't let you up. Removing his shorts, he strokes his cock. It's thick, God, it's so thick and a little brown just like the rest of him—it's honey dipped— that's what you'll call it.

The stretch is too much. You've taken it before, but that doesn't mean you are used to it. He bottoms out with a groan of your name. "Fuck—baby, so tight" The raspy hum against your ear, flusters you even more, "Now let me rest like that," He sleepily kisses your neck, wrapping his arms around you to stop you from moving too much, "keep me warm, yeah?"

Skin flushed and sleep gone out of the window, you could only hum in response.

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.