W E L P

you shake your head. “nope.” you shrug and pick up your phone again and start to scroll through your settings apps. “but it’s not a big deal, really, it’s just another thing to cross off the bucket list.”

seonghwa snorts and peeks over to snoop at your phone, to which you angle it away from him with an annoyed scowl. “i think it may be a little more serious than that.”

you type gibberish into the search bar. "why does it have to be serious, hwa? it's just sex."

its seonghwa's turn to scoff this time, and he pinches the skin of your calf, you swat at him with your free hand. but he does it again, and you bite out an irritated "quit it" as he starts to speak again.

"thats a bad mindset to have, y'know that right?" he lowers his voice to that annoying, mothering tone he uses with you when he thinks you're being stupid. "it should never be "just sex."

"okay yeah, but you can't be so picky and choosy all the time. i'm sure ill get with some guy and when he figures it out, he'll work with me or whatever. teach me or something." you speak of it fleetingly, like it was nothing more than a pesky errand.

seonghwa snatches your phone from you and shoves it into the couch cushions, and you sigh loudly.

"some guy?" he questions with a raise of his eyebrow. you move to fish your phone out of the couch, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist, encasing it in his slender fingers and rubbing his thumb over your thrumming pulse point.

"why not me?" he speaks lowly, and you snap your eyes up to his. he stares back at you with an intensity that settles low in your gut. his thumb stroked over your inner wrist slowly, and his other hand twitched at his side on the couch.

the air went thick, the quiet of his living room felt encased in a bubble, and the warmth of his skin suddenly burned.

he sees it. your thighs clenching beneath your body, the conflict flashing over your eyes, your free hand digging its nails into the cushion.

when you don't respond, he lets his eyes fall to where his hand held your wrist, watching with illustrated intent as he traces patterns against the fragile skin.

"i could show you, i've always been told i'm a good teacher." seonghwa tickles the skin of your palm with gentle scratches of his nails.

"thats what friends are for, yeah?" he lifts his pretty eyes back up to you, and something else has shadowed over them, and you feel something inside of you crack. you're aware of the way veins in his hands flow prettily under his skin.

the way his collarbones peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. the slick shine on his bottom lip where he licked to wet it. his tongue poked against his inner cheek and his eyebrows raised again to urge an answer out of you.

"c'mon pretty, don't leave me hanging." his voice is softer than usual, a new tone lacing it you've never heard from your best friend, something heated, something needy.

if deciding to have your best friend teach you how to ride dick was a bad idea, then you could mull on it later. because it wasn't long until he was sitting under you on the couch, legs spread nice and wide, his hands pressing into your hips where he held your body above him.

you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his, your knees pressed into the rough fabric of the couch cushions. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the blades.

he looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a gift from god himself, his eyebrows knit together so prettily. "its fun up there, huh?" he smiles, dragging his warm hands up your thighs, holding you like you might melt and slip through his fingers.

you could barely keep yourself together; he was so deep inside of you. your thighs shook around him, his tip nudging against that spot so sweet and so dirty. his fingers kneaded the flesh of your hips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth with a quiet moan when he felt your cunt clench around him.

"it helps that you're, ah… so wet…" his voice cracks lightly, his cock twitching inside of you and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.

you shiver and grip his shoulders a little harder, and you begin to lift your hips, but his grip on them tightens, and he pushes you right back down until your ass hits his thighs again, and you groan nice and low as he fills you all the way up again.

"no-no-no-no-no, baby, stop. don't lift." he presses his lips to your collarbone and kisses you there softly, running his tongue over the skin warmly. one hand leaves your hip and runs over your waist before he presses his palm flat against your lower back and pushes until you arch a little.

just enough that he somehow slips deeper into you, and you let out a weak whine when his fat tip presses ever harder against that spot.

"grind." he instructs in a gravelly, soft moan. "rock your hips, back and forth. it'll help me hit that spot for you."

you shake and whimper under your breath, but you obey. you gently move your hips forward, and the feeling is immediate, his cock drags against your soft walls just enough that it feels like pure heaven.

you move your hands and card them through the hair at the back of his head, cradling his skull in your arms as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, moaning softly against his skin as you rock your hips, nice and slow.

it helps that he's so big, each roll of your lower body has him slipping in and out of you just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to where you can consider him fucking you. his tip dragging against that spot like a constant button, your legs shaking uncontrollaby and your whine brushing past his ear like a song.

your clit lightly brushes against his abs, where his shirt has ridden up over his lower stomach. he keeps his hand on your lower back, keeping you arched all the while his other hand stays glued to your hips, pushing and pulling on your lower body, helping you grind his cock into your body.

"there, how's that feel, baby? good?" he whispers in your ear, kissing just below your earlobe as he helps you rock your body around his cock.

you nod against his neck, gripping his soft, dark hair harder and choking out a moan when he teases you with a heavy lift of his hips. then you feel as he encases your hips with both his hands again, and gently he lifts your body ever so slightly.

you squeeze his head even harder, seonghwa's soft moans shaking in his throat as he lifts and pushes your cunt back down on his cock in slow, deep intervals. "don't stop rocking those hips, keep fucking me like you want. grind, deep, slow…"

he guides you perfectly, each time he lifts your hips himself it makes you clench around him harder. you start to feel a little desperate, and your hips start to move a little faster, rocking with a little more rhythm, but seonghwa didn't like that.

one hand finds the back of your neck and grabs it firmly, pulling your head away from his shoulder and pressing your forehead to his. suddenly all you can see is his eyes, and it overwhelms you to the point of tears. you whine pathetically when he thrusts his cock up into your pussy so sharply that a drop of drool falls from your lips onto his chest.

"easy…" he grumbles against your lips, his breath fanning over your face in low, heavy pants. "slow down pretty, no need to rush." his nails dig into the back of your neck, and you shiver when he starts to grind his own hips up into you, so deep it has your stomach caving.

"if i wanted you pounded into the floor i would've put you on your back, but i'm teaching you sweetness. listen to me." his eyes fall low-lidded as you resume your slow grinding, and his mouth falls open in a pretty moan when you tighten around him, the sound of your slickness loud in your ears.

"it's your dick right now, baby, use it. do what feels good, but don't lose your head." he keeps up the torturous movement of his hips, a choreographed grind that makes his stomach roll prettily.

he doesn't let you look away, forcing you to lock in on his needy gaze while he keeps you filled up with him, nudging every deep spot, every nook and cranny of your pussy. there wasn't a single space inside of you that remained untouched.

"s, t-too, mm-" you tried to talk, try to tell him how good you were feeling but it came out in slurred babbles, and he laughed at you. his warm breath shudders over your parted lip,s and he nudges his head up, melding his soft lips with yours and kissing you deep and nasty.

his tongue fills your mouth with a purr, curling and essentially fucking your mouth with it. "it's a lot i know…" he whispers into your mouth, interrupting the kiss with a low moan when you clench so hard around him it makes his entire body fuzzy.

he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, letting go with a wet pop and pressing your hips down so hard onto his cock you thought if you looked down you'd see his tip poking through the flesh of your stomach.

"wouldn't have felt like this with anyone else, baby." seonghwa nips at the corner of your mouth, dropping his head to run his warm tongue flat up the front of your throat. "feel how wet you are? no other man will be able to make you feel this good."

his eyes lift as he sucks marks of possession into the skin of your neck, and when he sees a tear slipping down your cheek, he growls low in his throat and jerks his cock up into you rough and deep, and you yelp as the bliss shoots through you.

"oh no, don't cry. it makes me wanna be mean to you, makes me wanna fuck you til it feels wrong when i'm not inside you."

now he wraps his hands around your throat, pressing his thumbs against those soft spots that melt your brain, his eyes darting all over your pretty little blissed out face, his lips brushing against your in a ghost of a kiss.

"now lift, drop, and roll. fuck me, bunny. its yours, use this cock until you're satisfied. make yourself cum for me."

you coudln't disobey if you tried, working your body and focusing on that rapidly tightening knot in your stomach as you fuck yourself on seonghwa's dick, every delicious drag inside of you forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

he doesn't bother to chastise you for breaking eye contact; he knows you're too lost in it to control yourself. he squeezes your throat tighter, your moans coming choked and broken. seonghwa helps push you over that edge, groaning and purring prettily for you, lifting his hips to match your desperate movements.

"i feel you baby, pussy feels so good around me. so warm, so tight." he lifts his head to press his lips to the shell of your hot ears, moaning and sighing as you ride him to high heaven. your head feels fuzzy with the lack of air, seonghwa making sure that the only thing you could think about was his dick working you out.

“cum as much as you need,” he coos in your ear his voice low and breathless, sinking his teeth into the soft lobe. “ride me, bunny, ride me.”

you absolutely lose it, slamming your hips down onto his dick and shattering, dribbling drool in rivers as you cum. he squeezed your throat in pulsing intervals, giving you air, then snatching it from you, rolling his hips up into your cunt and dragging every drop of your orgasm out of your body.

"oh god…fuck." he grumbles in his throat, overwhelmed by how pretty you looked on top of him, blissed out over your warm, gummy pussy squeezing him so tight he almost came inside of you. "such a quick learner, baby."

he drags his hands away from your throat, cradling your head, smearing your drool all over your cheeks with his thumbs, your face hazy and drunk while he rocks his hips into you in painfully slow, high off the way you shake and whimper, your slick sticking to his thighs and his lower stomach, a messy proof of his effect on you.

"did so good beautiful, yes you did." he praises, and yet his hips never stop moving. rolling, grinding, upwards strokes that make you feel helpless, regardless of the fact that he was beneath you.

"think you can give me another one? lesson's not over yet." he bites out, grabbing your arms and dragging your body down so your forehead rests over his shoulder. then he grips your hips, lifts your body up, and shimmies his hips down just enough so he can plant his feet flat on the floor, before he starts to fuck.

hard, deep, powerful thrusts up into your overstimulated cunt that has your moans coming out in staccato chokes.

"you did your w-work, now let me use this pussy." he groans through gritted teeth, and you feel your body erupt into flames the more he moves. making you feel every inch of him, each thrust touching your brain. making you feel so good.

is that not what friends are for?

When you woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, throat burning, you assumed the worst. The shrill beeping of the thermometer in your mouth only confirmed what you already knew. You sighed, washed the thermometer and put it back in the medicine cabinet, trading it for a rapid COVID test. You still had a few a stacked underneath the sink for cases like these. You opened the package, swabbed yourself, and reached into the medicine cabinet bottle of ibuprofen. You shook two pills into your palm and used your other hand to cup water from the faucet to swallow them with. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you took a moment to look back up into the mirror at your bleak appearance. Even in the darkness you could see glassy, tired eyes staring back at you and a fine sheen of sweat that had broken out on your forehead. 

It felt like the minutes were dragging by, but your phone’s timer was going off before you knew it. You checked the test- negative, thank god, and then took a seat on the cold tile of the bathroom floor, trying to decide what to do. Jeonghan was leaving to go to Paris tomorrow morning for an UNESCO event, and you were supposed to be going with him. But you couldn’t get him sick too. You wouldn’t.

Resolving to spend the rest of the night on the couch, you tiptoed back into the bedroom to grab your pillow and a blanket.

Jeonghan turned over towards you as you attempted to quietly gather everything in your arms at your side of the bed without dropping anything and you bit back a curse.

“Baby?” he asked groggily, voice raspy. You saw him blinking hard, trying to get his eyes to adjust so he could see you, but you took a step back into the darkness, knowing that if he saw the state you were in he’d never fall back to sleep, and he needed it desperately.

“Go back to sleep, Hannie, I’ll be right back,” you lied, biting your lip as you did so, but you saw him relax back into the mattress and breathed a sigh of relief.

In the living room you sprawled out on the couch, but your aching muscles prevented you from getting comfortable. The thin blanket you’d dragged from the bedroom didn’t do much for your chill, but you wrapped it around you tightly anyway, hoping it would subside once the medicine kicked in.

“Baby?” you awoke to Jeonghan’s concerned voice above you.

You sat up with a groan and immediately shut your eyes tightly, willing the splitting headache that must’ve developed overnight to go away.  

“Why’re you out here?” he asked. “Did we have a fight I’m not remembering?”

You smiled weakly. “No, baby, I’m just not feeling that good so I moved to the couch. Didn’t want to get you sick.”

“What?”

“I just have a little fever, it’s not a big deal.”

Jeonghan looked appalled. “How little?”

You pressed your lips together, not answering. His soft brown eyes hardened just the tiniest bit and he leaned over the couch to feel your forehead. You ducked him initially, and he chuckled at your stubbornness, putting his hand on your shoulder gently to steady you and you surrendered. His cool fingers on your warm skin felt nice and you let yourself relax slightly back into him as he gauged your temperature for himself.

“You’re burning up, love. Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, trying not to sound hurt.

“You needed sleep,” you explained, voice barely audible.

“And you didn’t?” 

You shrugged. “You have all that important stuff starting today, I just didn’t want-”

“I’m canceling it,”

“No, Jeonghan, you’re not.”

“You’re sick!”

“You can’t cancel on the UN,” you repeated in a measured tone. 

“What are they going to do, fire me?”

“I don’t know, maybe? I’d go as far as to say they’d murder you.” You took a deep breath. “I’m an adult. I can take care of myself.”

Jeonghan let out a frustrated sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “But you shouldn’t have to!”

“It’s fine, babe, really. I do it all the time, my immune system is a bitch.” You laughed lightly.

“Because I’m gone all the time,” he murmured in realization.

You frowned because that’s not what you’d been trying to get at, but you knew Jeonghan was already beating himself up for it anyway. “You know that’s not your fault. Your job…” you trailed off. 

“I just want to be able to take care of you.”

“And I don’t want to get you sick during the most important season of your career.”

Jeonghan pinched the bridge of his nose. “I-I can’t just leave you like this!”

“Fine, what about a compromise?” you asked with a cough. Jeonghan narrowed his eyes, but was listening. “I go with you, but you can’t touch me.”

“What? I can’t-” he sputtered.

“Not until I’m better! Do you know how much of an earful I’d get from your managers if I gave you what I have?”

“That’s a terrible compromise.”

“It’s the best I’ve got.”

“You realize how ridiculous that sounds? I can’t touch my fucking girlfriend?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“That you’ll let me take care of you.”

“You can. From an arm’s length.”

“An arm’s length?! Like literally?”

“Yep.” You held your arm out in front of you to demonstrate. “That should be good.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

You were not kidding. And you were nothing if not stubborn. At the airport,  you were able to exchange your first class ticket for an economy seat in a row that wasn’t completely full when Jeonghan was taking pictures with some fans. You felt a little guilty about stranding him and going behind his back, but you told yourself it was for his own good. 

“Ready, babe?” you asked with as bright a smile as you could manage, hoping you didn’t look as sweaty as you felt.

The girls Jeonghan was surrounded by glanced up at you and gave you polite smiles. They backed off to give you guys some space, but still watched on curiously as the two of you interacted.

Jeonghan reached out for your hand and you didn’t pull away, knowing how bitchy it would look in front of the fans. He smirked as he interlaced his fingers with yours and waved goodbye to the girls. As soon as you got to the security line you yanked your hand out of his grasp, pulling out a bottle of hand sanitizer and squirting a bit into his hands. 

“You’re paranoid,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, rubbing his hands together nonetheless.

“I’m trying to save my own ass,” you muttered coughing into your sleeve a couple of times. A few people in line gave you wary looks, but you ignored them.

You sat two seats apart from Jeonghan at the gate while you were waiting for the plane to arrive and Jeonghan didn’t protest, talking to you softly as you rested your eyes. You liked to listen to his voice, and he didn’t understand it, but indulged you anyway. He talked about different people around the terminal, describing them in detail. He talked about his sister, gossiped about his members like they weren’t sitting a few feet away. He talked about how beautiful you looked, making you laugh. You were wearing his clothes, the ones you’d gone to sleep in, and your eyes were bright red. Your entire face was flushed and you were still sweaty.

“It’s time for more medicine, my love,” Jeonghan reminded you softly and you opened your eyes again. You sat up and held your palm open so that your boyfriend could shake the pills from the bottle into your hand. You swallowed them with a sip of sprite. The bubbles felt good on your throat. 

An announcement was made for first class to start boarding and Jeonghan stood with a stretch, cracking his knuckles. 

“That’s us, baby,” he said when you didn’t stand, beckoning you to join him.

“About that…”

“About what?”

-

“Mr. Yoon, I’m really sorry, but you need to board, sir.” The flight attendant was young and nervous. You felt bad about holding everyone up, and even worse for making this woman’s job harder than it had to be.

“Please just give me another moment,” he pleaded impatiently. 

You’d been arguing with him for about ten minutes. The rest of first class had already boarded and business class was on standby, the only one holding them up being Jeonghan. In any other circumstance they would’ve gone ahead and started boarding business class anyway, but because Jeonghan was a priority passenger, they had to wait for him to be seated before they could continue. 

“It makes no sense. Why the fuck would you switch you tickets?”

“Jeonghan, we’re making a scene,” you said tiredly, noticing some of the passengers waiting had their phones out. It wasn’t anything you weren’t used to, but you knew this wasn’t going to turn out well for either of you. 

“I don’t care.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” you apologized, your voice coming out weak. “Can we talk about this later?”

He hesitated, but ultimately gave in with a curt nod. 

“Now get your ass on that plane. I’ll see you when we land.”

Jeonghan gave you a tight smile and a kiss on the cheek that made you freeze. “I love you.”

“Love you.” Bastard. 

And then you watched him go, shoulders tense, expression guarded as he handed the scanned his ticket and walked into the tunnel.

You were one of the last to board, lagging behind the other passengers as not to draw more attention to yourself. Though in hindsight, it had the opposite effect. You could feel everyone watching you out of the corner of their eyes as you walked to the back of the plane and took your seat.

The only other person in your row was an older businesswoman which left the middle seat open. She gave you a nod before turning back to her kindle. You settled into your seat for the flight and shut your eyes. You just wanted to spend the next eight hours asleep and not thinking about how Jeonghan was probably fuming in his own seat right now, but you knew your chances were slim. 

By the time the plane landed, you hadn’t even slept for an hour, despite how hard you tried. It only added to how miserable and exhausted you already were. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of your phone screen and winced at how wrecked you looked. You were already dreading getting off the plane. Not only was Jeonghan probably still mad at you, but you knew people would be taking pictures of the two of you in the airport and you looked like shit. But there wasn’t much you could do about it aside from trying to comb through your hair with your fingers, which did little to nothing. 

Jeonghan was waiting for you on the jet bridge when you got off the plane, but he didn’t speak to you. You followed him off the ramp and into the airport where he slowed a little bit so you could grab his hand.

It was a routine you were used to, but tired of. Pretending like everything was okay in public when it wasn’t. You knew it was necessary, but you didn’t like how natural it had become for you. You and Jeonghan fought like any other couple, only you had to hide it. Putting on a happy face had become second nature, even when you felt shitty. And Jeonghan giving you the silent treatment right now made you feel shitty. 

You knew you couldn’t blame him either, you had lied to him, but you already felt like you were dying and his anger wasn’t helping. 

The airport seemed a million miles long and your hand felt sweaty in Jeonghan’s. He smiled and nodded at the fans who were waiting over by baggage claim and the entrance and you tried to do the same, but your cheeks hurt after just a few minutes and you knew the pictures posted online later were going to be rough. 

You were almost out the door and in an Uber, when you began coughing and doubled over in the middle of the walkway. It was all way more dramatic than it should’ve been. It wasn’t really a big deal, it happened whenever you got sick because your asthma was a bitch. You just needed a moment to catch your breath, but in a second Jeonghan had a hand on your shoulder, standing in front of you to block you from onlookers and cameras.

“Baby, are you alright?” he asked, voice laced with concern. 

“Now you talk to me?” you shot back, smirking when a brief shade of bitterness crossed over Jeonghan’s features. You straightened up and brushed yourself off like nothing had happened. “I’m fine, Jeonghan. Let’s get to the hotel, yeah?”

He sighed, and gave you a once-over like he wasn’t sure if you were telling the truth, but relented and grabbed your hand- the one you’d accidentally coughed into before switching to the crook of your elbow (like you were supposed to do to avoid spreading germs) and you rolled your eyes. He was impossible.

Jeonghan rubbed your head in the Uber on the way to the hotel and you didn’t protest. You weren’t being very good about enforcing the whole “arm’s length” rule, but you gave yourself a pass for this one. 

-

Once at the hotel, you tried to carry some of the luggage up to your room and nearly gave Jeonghan a heart attack in the process. The way his eyes bugged out of his head when you picked up the biggest duffel bag in the pile and slung it over your shoulder while he was trying to check in was comical. You saw him curse and apologize to the receptionist before jogging over to where you were standing, leaving his credit card and wallet on the counter. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he hissed, and took the duffel bag from you, promptly dropping it on the floor. 

You grinned at him sheepishly. “Sorry?”

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose, something he’d been doing a lot in the past twelve hours. “Just- stay here, okay? And don’t do any more weightlifting.”

You shook your head at him as he walked back over to the check-in desk, while keeping his eyes on you and nearly tripping over a side table on the way there. You stood there for a second while he finished up the paperwork and the security deposit, too out of it to do anything with yourself.

“Let’s go, hot stuff,” Jeonghan called out from across the lobby, flashing a pair of keycards at you.

He grabbed the bags this time and handed you the keys in return. As soon as you were in the room and the door clicked shut behind you, you flopped down onto the bed like a starfish, and groaned in pain.

“I’m so sorry you’re sick, baby,” Jeonghan said sweetly as he kneeled on the carpet beside you.

“And I’m sorry I went behind your back and changed my seat on the plane without telling you.”

“It’s okay. I understand why you did it. I would’ve liked to sit next to you, though.” 

“I would’ve liked that too, but I refuse to get you sick, Jeonghan. And I got like two hundred airline points when I downgraded my seat!” 

You smiled triumphantly and Jeonghan chuckled. He propped himself up on the edge of the bed on his elbows and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. He frowned.

“When was the last time you took medicine, y/n?”

You tried to recall it, but you couldn’t remember. Your brain felt too fuzzy. “I dunno.”

“Did you take anything on the plane?”

“Um…” you winced, knowing you were about to get an earful. 

“‘I can take care of myself’ absolute bullshit,” Jeonghan scoffed and reached for the backpack next to him. “I’m never leaving you home sick again.”

“Hannieee,” you whined.

He parroted your name back in the exact same tone of voice. “Here, let’s take your temperature.”

He held the thermometer out to you and you put it under your tongue lazily, already knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty. It beeped loudly only a few seconds later and Jeonghan snatched it out of your mouth before you could look at it. 

“Fuck.”

“What’s the damage, doc?”

He cracked a small smile and sighed. “One hundred point six.” He checked his watch. “Okay, it’s about six-thirty now, you can take some ibuprofen now and then some tylenol at nine-thirty.”

“Are you really supposed to swap them out like that so much?” you asked, taking the pills Jeonghan offered you.

“The managers always did it for me and the members, we turned out fine.”

“Define ‘fine’,” you teased, earning a glare from your boyfriend. 

“Please just take your medicine,” Jeonghan begged. “You haven’t had any in your system for hours.”

“I’m usually good about this stuff,” you insisted and threw the medicine back with a gulp of water. 

He slid the bottle of pills back into the backpack along with the thermometer and crossed his arms. “Yeah, something tells me that when you get sick you keep going to work even though you tell me you’re staying home, you sleep on your breaks, take ibuprofen every ten hours or so, don’t really use your inhaler- even when you’re coughing up a lung, and eat mmm once a day? That sound about right?”

He’d only really half nailed it. Well… maybe seventy percent nailed it. Eighty at best. You gave him an amused look and smiled smugly. “You don’t have any proof.”

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “I have your best friend.”

“Son of a bitch, I’m going to kill her.” You sat up and reached for your phone that you’d set up to charge on the bedside table. 

“Hey,” Jeonghan grabbed your wrist gently. “She was just trying to help, love. I asked her what you usually did when you’re sick so that I could know what you like and take care of you, and she told me the truth. She worries about you, you know.”

“No, I didn’t know that actually,” you admitted.

“Well she does.”

“I know those are all bad habits and stuff, but I’m not completely incompetent. I make myself tea and soup when I’m sick. I take hot baths, 

“Do you want me to draw you a bath?”

“That’d be really nice at home, but… I don’t know, I’m just weird about hotel baths.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it, let’s just shower instead.”

“Both of us?” you asked hesitantly.

“I was thinking so?” He scrunched his face up in confusion. “Why?”

“Because,” you paused to cough, “I’m sick. I don’t want to get you sick. Arm’s length and all that.”

“I know, but it’ll help you feel better.” Jeonghan held his hand out to you. “Come on, baby,” he coaxed and led you into the bathroom. 

He managed to get you and himself undressed and in the shower without further argument from you. Truthfully, you were too tired to fight about it. You could barely stay awake and upright as Jeonghan worked shampoo through your hair, let alone form a comprehensible sentence. You moaned a bit as his strong hands rubbed soap down your torso, not being able to help your body’s reaction to his touch.

“You okay, baby?” he asked. “Am I hurting you?”

“No,” you said and shook your head, immediately regretting it when the room started spinning around you. “Sorry, just kind of out of it.”

“Don’t worry, my love.” Jeonghan smiled at you and leaned in to kiss you. You came to your senses and pushed yourself away from him. He didn’t even try to hide a frown this time.

“Can you at least try to stay healthy?” you sighed and stepped out of the shower.

Jeonghan wasn’t far behind you and wrapped a towel around your shoulders. “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault you’re so fucking irresistible.”

You glared at him. “Smooth.”

He looked amused. “Wow you must be really sick, not even my pickup lines are working on you.”

“I’m going to bed,” you said, ignoring him.

You climbed into bed in a sweatshirt, pajama pants, and socks while Jeonghan came to bed in just his boxers. You looked at him in disbelief. 

“You’ll freeze, Hannie. It’s cold as fuck in here.”

“No it’s not,” he replied and bit his lip. “You’ve got a fever, remember?”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

“No need to apologize, baby. I can warm you up,” he offered and rolled over to hold you, only to be smacked with a pillow. 

“Keep your hands to yourself, Yoon.”

You made a small barrier of pillows between you so neither of you would accidentally (or purposely, ahem Jeonghan) roll over and touch the other in the middle of the night. 

“Are you serious?” Jeonghan pouted. “Baby-”

“Nuh-uh we had a deal. You need to be feeling your best for... whatever it is you’re doing tomorrow. You’re the interim leader, after all.” 

“Whatever,” he huffed and rolled over onto his other side.

“You’ll be thanking me whenever you don’t catch what I have,” you said and coughed a few more times. 

You rolled over to turn off the lamp on the table next to you before pulling the covers all the way up to your chin and finally, finally getting some sleep. 

You dreamt about him. About Jeonghan. About his hands on your body while being buried deep inside you. His mouth was on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbone. You arched your back when he moaned softly in your ear, gripping the sheets tightly with one hand, using the other to pull at his hair. You felt yourself getting close when he began thrusting into you harder than before and you gasped at the sensation, only getting closer to the edge when he called out your name. 

“Y/n,” at first whispered and then more firmly. “Y/n. Y/n!”

Your eyes snapped open and you searched the dark room frantically, looking for Jeonghan. He was right next to you, gazing at you in concern. His hair was sticking up all over the place from where he’d moved around in his sleep and he was looking at you expectantly. 

“You were calling out for me, are you okay?”

Your face was burning with embarrassment and you wondered if he could tell. You were still breathing hard, and you were a little sweaty, but you couldn’t tell if it was from your fever or from your dream. “I’m fine, sorry to wake you.” 

“Were you… dreaming about me?” he pressed, leaning over the pillow barrier to look at you closely. 

You hesitated. “Uh, yeah.”

“What was the dream about?”

“Nothing important, we were, um…in a corn maze! We were in a corn maze and I couldn’t find you and that’s why I was calling out for you.”

“A corn maze?” He didn’t look convinced.

“Mhm.”

“Baby?” he asked again. 

“Yeah?”

“Was it a sex dream?”

“…maybe.”

Jeonghan’s face lit up and he lifted himself up onto his arms to climb on top of you. “Here let me help-”

You held out and arm to stop him. “I’m, I’m fine Jeonghan,” you lied, clenching your thighs together. 

He flopped back down onto his stomach on top of the pillow barrier. “So if I reached into your panties right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

You swallowed. “Nope.”

“Liar.”

“I’m fine, Jeonghan! Sex is literally the last thing we should be doing right now! Do you know how much bacteria-”

“I never said anything about sex,” he countered.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was just going to eat you out! I want you to feel better, baby.”

“I think that’s somehow worse?”

“No way, I don’t think I can catch anything from eating you out.”

“I’m almost positive you can, Hannie. I’m fine.”

“I’m googling it!” He announced and rolled back over. Before you could protest the light from his phone was shining over his face as he typed. “Can you catch a contagious virus from eating pussy?”

“That’s going to be in your search history forever.”

“The internet doesn’t say anything against it,” he declared victoriously.

“Does it say anything about it at all?”

“Uh… yeah. It says it’s fine”

“Who’s the liar now, Jeonghan?” He grinned sheepishly. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine. I’m not even horny anymore.”

He looked at you like he didn’t believe you, but ultimately put his phone back on the table and closed his eyes again. In no time he was breathing deeply and you could relax. Why was common sense so lacking in your boyfriend? What part of the no touching deal did he not understand? The answer was all of it and it was a pain in the ass. He was a pain in the ass. A pain in the ass that you loved very much, but a pain in the ass nonetheless. 

You closed your eyes, but couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t that you weren’t tired, you were still completely exhausted, but Jeonghan had been right. You were still insanely turned on from your dream and you weren’t sure what to do about it. You waited a few minutes for the urge to subside, but it didn’t. 

“You were about to cum, weren’t you?” Jeonghan piped up out of nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

“Fuck, I thought you were asleep.”

“Just answer the question,” Jeonghan growled, not helping your current situation whatsoever. “In your dream, you were about to, right? You were biting your lip like you do when you’re going to cum.”

You sighed. “Yeah. Yeah I was.”

“But you didn’t?”

“Unfortunately not.”

“Let me help you finish, baby. It’ll help you sleep,” Jeonghan insisted. “You need rest.”

You sniffled and groaned. “Ugh, you’re impossible, you know that?”

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s a yes,” you surrendered and pushed the blankets down below your hips. “But the rule still applies. Arm’s length.”

“Huh?” You looked down and that’s when the shame hit you. The kind that made you want to melt into the floor and cease to exist. The skin around half a cuticle sat mangled and pooling with blood. You hid it by curling your fingers into your palm instantly. 

“Sorry,” you mumbled, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. You jerked up from your spot in the wooden chair and hurried toward the door. 

Behind you, bright white lights wrapped around rectangular mirrors. The painted white walls made everything brighter. Most of the guys disappeared to have staff members fit them with mic packs. You already had yours attached to your waistband. So when you were the first one back to the dressing room, you slipped into one of the makeup chairs and zoned out. Your performance had been pushed back twenty minutes due to a technical issue. 

This performance was important. One of the first performances for a live audience after making another comeback. For an award show, this was the first time you’d be able to sing a few new songs for the audience. All nine of you had been practicing like crazy for the past week. From vocals to backup dancers, there wasn’t time to waste. 

Right as you went to push the door open, Jeongin jerked it open and headed inside. You yelped as the two of you stumbled and wobbled back from one another. “Sorry, sorry.” Your fingers curled tighter into your fist. 

He mumbled something, you couldn’t hear what it was and you didn’t care. He stepped back, allowing you to get through. You rushed down the hall and toward the distant bathroom. When he glanced over at Hyunjin, Hyunjin frowned. “It’s their Dermatophagia again. I caught them biting their fingers.” 

“I thought they said they were trying to stop.” 

“They were, but they must have zoned out.”

Their conversation trailed you into the distance. You walked quicker, walking past someone with a radio. He spoke sharp Korean into it and rushed by without a second glance your way. At least, he didn’t judge you for bleeding. 

It’s hard for people to understand something when they don’t have it. You never meant to make anyone uncomfortable. It’s a never-ending urge that digs deep. An itch that can rarely be scratched unless you're picking and biting at your fingers. The last time you went to get a manicure, you swore it’d be the last time. 

The way the worker looked at you with a scowl and upturned nose, it always came rushing back. Shame overturned your stomach and you couldn’t meet their eyes. The entire scene left a sour taste in your mouth. When you finished, Felix couldn’t stop gushing about how soft and smooth his hands felt. They shaped his nails perfectly. They shaped yours, too, but you weren’t nearly as happy as he was. 

You shoved open the bathroom door and stumbled inside. Murmurs gathered from the bodies around you. People lingered, talking to one another and laughing about god knows what. It wasn’t towards you, but it felt like it was. It always felt like you were the constant butt of the joke. 

Your fingers were always red, raw, and they bled a lot. You wished you could understand it fully. Your doctor gave you a rundown, but it wasn’t what you wanted to hear. You didn’t care about it being caused by anxiety, stress, and other things. You wanted to know how to stop it. 

With a handful of white foamy soap, you quickly scrubbed your hands beneath warm water. Your thumb ran over the injured spot, trying to get it to stop bleeding. When you were finished, you grabbed a paper towel and gently dabbed the area. 

If you were lucky, one of the guys might have a band-aid. 

~ ~ ~ 

“Do you wanna help?” Minho didn’t look up from the chopping board he stood over. From the looks of it, you were pretty sure it was a zucchini he was chopping up. 

“Help what?” You asked. 

He paused, slowly looking up. “Help me hide a dead body, obviously. No, idiot, do you want to help me cook? You’re standing there stalking and you keep looking at me like a lost puppy.” 

“I do not,” you mumbled. “Besides, I can’t help you anyway. My hands are still a wreck. There’s three fingers that I-” 

“Okay, and?” 

You raised an eyebrow. “You’re okay with me bleeding in our lunch?” 

“Rubber gloves exist for a reason. Just go wash your hands for thirty seconds with soap and put on some gloves.” He jerked his knife back towards the sink. “Go on. They’re under there when you’re finished.” 

“But…”

“But?” 

“You’re not going to be upset?” 

“It’s called good hygiene. What? What’s the problem? Why do you look like you’re going to cry? Don’t cry.” 

“Because I feel like it’s always a big problem.” 

“What’s the problem?” Changbin asked. He came around the corner and headed towards the stainless steel fridge. “What did I miss?” 

“They think biting their nails is a problem.” 

“So many people bite their nails,” Changbin shrugged. 

“It’s not biting my nails, it’s biting around my nails and knuckles that’s the problem.” You looked down at your fingers with a frown. “It’s so embarrassing and I don’t know how to stop. I’ve tried putting on band-aids, but I imagine it feels the same way a dog feels when they get a cone put on their head. It’s so irritating, I end up taking them off.” 

“I’m pretty sure Han used one of those bad tasting solutions when he struggled with nail biting,” Changbin offered. “So maybe you can see what he used and try it.” 

“I can’t believe you two are treating this like it’s normal,” you mumbled with a frown. You glanced at your hands again and curled them into your jeans. “It makes me feel like a freak.” 

“Sorry we’re not assholes that are pointing and laughing at your face for it. If you want us to, just say the words.” 

“What hyung means to say is that it’s okay to struggle with things that make you feel awkward. We struggle with different things and insecurities are normal.” 

“Yeah, what he said.” Minho jerked the knife over his shoulder in his direction. “Just be you. I don’t care if you consumed all your own skin and turned into a Junji Ito monster. I’m just glad you’re you.” 

“You really have such a way with words.” 

“I’m gonna have a way with this knife if you don’t wash your hands and help me cook, I’m hungry.” 

~ ~ ~ 

The sound of cursing from inside your room caused Chan to stop. He frowned and gently knocked on your door. “Hey, are you okay in there? You sound upset.” 

“Hold on.” 

It took a few seconds of wiggling into your pajama shirt before you headed over. When you opened the door, Chan glanced down at you and over your shoulder. “Are you good?” 

“Yeah, sorry. My fingers hurt and some of my shirt tangled around my finger.” You spread your fingers to show him. “It’s okay, but it aches. The band-aid is helping, but you know.” You shrugged, trying not to act like it was a big deal. 

The guys were used to it by now. It was a habit you had before trainee days and you’d yet to break it. You shifted beneath his gaze and looked away. “Other than that, I think I’m going to get some sleep.” 

“You know you can talk to any of us if you need to, right?” 

You nodded. “I know. I know I can talk to you and the others. I just don’t. What’s there to talk about? It’s so embarrassing and I can’t control it. The doctor said it could be caused by different things. It's just…” You weakly shrugged, “I don’t know.” 

“I guess it makes me feel like a toddler that can’t stop sucking their thumb. The only difference is that a toddler usually grows out of it and me? Well…” You shifted your injured hand. “Good luck.” 

“You don’t have to beat yourself up because you can’t control something.” 

“I don’t know how to stop.” 

He opened his mouth to say something else, but it cut off with the sound of Han yelling for you. You glanced down the hall, but he didn’t appear. Instead, he called your name louder. Chan chuckled. “You should go see what he wants before he starts shrieking like a banshee.” 

“Apparently.” You walked past him and down the carpeted hall. You padded down to his room to find him sitting on his bed with a small dark bottle. “What do you want?” 

“Minho said you needed to use this for your fingers. I want to warn you that I’m pretty sure this will work because it tastes so bad. The last time I tried to bite my nails with it, I almost threw up.” 

He handed the small bottle to you. You took it and glanced at the label. “You still have it? I thought you used this some time last year.” 

“Yeah. I only used a little bit of it. It knocked out my nail biting real quick. Look at these beauties!” He reached his fingers up and wiggled them. “Sometimes I think I could be a hand model now.” 

You chuckled, finding amusement in his words. “Thanks for this. Good luck in your modeling aspirations. Can you show me how you used this? I want to make sure I apply it right.” 

“Yeah, no problem.” 

~ ~ ~ 

“I wanna take a bite out of this,” Felix whispered more to himself than anyone else. In front of a royal purple pile of kinetic sand, he squished the tips of his fingers into it. Picking it up, the magnetic sand slowly fell apart and dropped back onto the table. 

“Yeah, me too.” 

Seungmin looked over at the two of you and scowled “What’s wrong with you two? Are you hearing yourselves? That’s so gross! It’s sand!” 

“It’s kinetic sand and therefore, it’s magical sand.” 

You were all in a recording studio at a coffee table. Criss-cross on the floor, you each played with your own stack of sand. It was Jeongin that had the idea to purchase it at the store. It turned into something to help distract you from biting your nails, but with Han beside him, it turned into buying every member their own small pack of kinetic sand. 

Beside you, his knee pressed against your own. He rubbed his fingers together, enjoying the squishy texture. “I can’t stop. I think I’m addicted. This was the best purchase we ever made. Jeongin, what do you think?” 

He didn’t respond. Too enamored by poking holes into the softness, his sand sat in the original plastic package. Felix looked over and chuckled. “I think we’re all becoming victims of kinetic sand.” 

The studio door swung open and Minho appeared with a fresh water bottle. He disappeared to purchase it from a nearby vending machine and stopped when he saw everyone. “What’s this?” 

“Do you want one? I bought you one. I bought you purple because purple matched your hair one time.” Han’s head jerked up and he grinned. “We’re playing with kinetic sand.” 

“I’m addicted,” Jeongin mumbled. He couldn’t pull his eyes away from his stash. “This is so fun.” 

You couldn’t disagree. You kneaded and played with your own stack of bright blue sand. In the distance, Chan and Changbin sat with chairs tucked against the recording studio booth. Changbin hit the red button to talk to Hyunjin. 

“Okay, you can come on out now. Felix, you’re up next. We’re recording the hook for that song.” 

“For what song?” 

“The song Hyunjin just sang.” 

“Oh,” he frowned. “I don’t know what he was singing.” He poked his fingers into his sand again. “We should invest in a large sandbox full of this stuff. Lee Know, hyung, can you watch my sand?” 

“Yes. You go record and I’ll watch your stuff. I’ll make sure Hyunjin doesn’t hijack it. Seungmin, sit down and watch us make stuff.” 

“Why do you have to tell me what to do? I’m not hurting anything.” 

“Sit.” 

Seungmin rolled his eyes, but he plopped down on the couch. You chuckled at his attitude. Minho grinned and picked up a handful of the sand. “Good dog.” 

“You dickhead.” 

“Woah, what?” Chan spun around with wide eyes. “Huh? What? What’s going on?” 

Hyunjin screeched and plugged his ears. “My holy ears! You’re polluting them with your worldly filth!”

“The co-writer of Red Lights everyone,” you mumbled beneath your breath. 

“Lee Know bullied me!” 

“Seungmin, everyone bullies you.” 

“I’m going to take your blender, so you can’t make chicken breast smoothies anymore.”

“Asshole!” Changbin spat. 

Felix tapped your shoulder and you looked up. “Huh?” 

“How are your fingers?”

“My what?” 

“Your fingers? Are you still struggling with biting them?” 

“Not at the moment. I have Han’s nasty tasting solution on. Biting them tastes bad and this kinetic sand, I can’t get enough of it. This stuff is magical.” 

“Magical my ass.” 

A large green glob flew through the air and landed directly on Seungmin’s face. Gasps circled around the room. Seungmin’s eyes were shut and the sand slowly sank down his face. “Whoever threw that, you have three seconds to run.” 

“Eat it!” Jeongin taunted. “That’s what you get! Maknae on top, bitch!” 

Silence filled the room until Hyunjin cracked first. His hands went together and he threw his head back. He pointed at Seungmin. “He said ‘eat it!’” 

Laughter from the others joined him. You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling at their antics. Finally distracted from insecurities surrounding your fingers and the need to bite your skin, it was the last thing on your mind. 

“Yang Jeongin,” Seungmin started, “you need to be taught a lesson. Who raised you?” Just as he wiped off the melting sand, another handful was tossed his way and pelted his forehead. He yelped and brushed it off. “What the fuck?” 

Minho grinned with an empty open hand. “Like father, like son.”

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The apartment is dim, long shadows stretching across the dark hardwood floor as the flickering flames dance in your eyes. You hear his footsteps before you see him, slow steps that feel super familiar.

“You really went all out, huh?” Seungcheol’s voice is low and teasing, but you hear the softness underneath it. He’s smiling, you can feel it. You turn to face him, holding the cake like it’s some sacred offering. “You only turn—”

“Don’t say the number,” he groans dramatically, throwing his head back before grinning at you again. “Just say ‘you only turn amazing once a year’ or something.”

“Fine,” you say teasingly, stepping closer. “You only turn incredibly hot and mildly unbearable once a year.”

He laughs, a full-bodied and bright laugh that fills the room. The sound blooms in your chest like something dangerous. His eyes flick to the cake, then to your face, then they linger. “You made this?”

You nod, trying to keep your voice even. “Your favourite because I actually remembered. Chocolate ganache with a pinch of sea salt, no fruit, and no frosting flowers. Because apparently, you’re a cake snob.”

He blinks once. Then twice. Then, softly: “You really do listen.”

That shouldn’t make your stomach flip. It shouldn’t make your breath catch. But Seungcheol says it like it means something more. Like you mean something more. “Blow out the candles,” you say, offering the cake. “Make a wish.”

He leans in slowly, his plush lips parting, but instead of blowing, he pauses and looks up at you through his long lashes. “Should I tell you my wish?”

“No. That’s not how it works.”

“But what if it already came true?”

You freeze. He smirks and finally blows out his candles, shadows swallowing the room again. You set the cake down on the table behind you, and then realise how close he still is. You’re practically standing toe to toe with him. His cologne wraps around you like a net; it's warm and musky, and something you’ve always associated with comfort.

“I should cut this,” you mumble, turning, but his hand catches your wrist. “Wait.”

You stop. He doesn’t let go.

“I know I said I didn’t want a party,” he says, voice quieter now. “And I meant it. But I didn’t expect this either. Just you.”

You glance at him. “Is that okay?”

“More than okay.” His gaze drops to your mouth. “It’s all I wanted.”

Silence stretches between you, as taut as a wire. You can feel it in your pulse, your fingertips, and between your thighs.

“Seungcheol…” He takes a step forward. You take one back, and the table hits your hips. There’s nowhere to go. “You made me a cake,” he says softly, fingers brushing your wrist. “You spent all day setting this up. You remembered everything I like.”

“Because I care about you,” you say, probably a little too fast. “We’re friends. Of course I-”

“Don’t,” he cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

You falter. “What do you mean?”

His eyes are fire. “You know what I mean.”

Your breath catches. He steps closer again, hand slipping to your waist this time — warm, steady, grounding.

“You think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me?” he murmurs. “The way your breath hitches when I touch you? You think I haven’t felt it?”

Your heart pounds like it wants out of your chest. “Cheol…”

His hand slides up your spine, anchoring itself at your nape. “I didn’t say anything before because I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to risk it if you weren’t ready.”

You tilt your chin up, defiant and slightly trembling. “And now?”

“Now,” he breathes, “I don’t care about careful.”

Then he kisses you. It’s not tentative. It’s not a question.

It’s a promise.

His mouth is hot and firm on yours, his lips tasting faintly of wine and mint. He kisses you like he’s thought about it a thousand times, almost like he’s starved for you. Your fingers curl into his shirt, pulling him closer, and he groans against your lips like you’ve just undone him.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours. You’re both breathing hard.

“I’ve wanted that,” he whispers, “for so long.” You search his face. “Then why wait?”

“Because I didn’t know if you’d let me want more.”

Your hands trail down his chest, feeling the heat under the fabric. “What if I do?”

He lifts his gaze to yours. “Do you?” You nod once. “Yes.”

His hands tighten at your waist, and he guides you backward until your thighs hit the edge of the couch. You fall with a soft laugh, and he follows, caging you with his arms, his knee parting your legs like it’s nothing.

“This okay?” he asks, voice lower now, and much rougher.

“More than okay,” you echo, suddenly feeling small in his embrace.

His mouth finds your neck, your collarbone, the hollow of your throat. Every kiss leaves heat in its wake. You tilt your head, give him space, and his hand slips under your shirt, splaying wide across your ribs.

“Still okay?”

“Yes,” you gasp.

The moment stretches slowly and languidly. His touch isn’t rushed, but it’s reverent. He traces the edges of you like he’s memorising it, not for tonight, but for always.

When he finally pulls your shirt over your head, his eyes go dark.

“God,” he mutters, cupping your face again. “You’re…”

“Don’t say perfect,” you warn, breathless.

“Okay,” he whispers, kissing your jaw. “You’re mine.”

That word. Yours. It undoes you more than anything else. You pull him down to you again, greedy now, laced with hunger. The heat builds between you both, your lips, hands, and breath coinciding until you’re gasping into each other’s mouths, laughing in between kisses, saying things you won’t remember tomorrow but will feel for the rest of your life.

And when you finally collapse together on the couch, tangled and flushed, your head on his chest, Seungcheol strokes your hair like he never wants to let go.

“Best birthday ever,” he says into your hair.

You smile. “Say it again,” you whisper.

He leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“You’re mine.”

~~~~~~

You think the moment’s passed. That he’ll settle down and soften, and that he’s gotten it out of his system. The kiss, the heat, the confession. But the way Seungcheol’s looking at you now… like you’re still something he hasn’t finished unwrapping… tells you otherwise.

You’re still straddling the edge of the couch, shirtless and utterly breathless. His fingers are tracing the waistband of your pants, a lazy action, but with purpose.

“Stand up,” he murmurs. You blink. “What?”

He sits back, still between your legs, eyes dark. Commanding.

“Take your pants off. Slowly.”

Your heart stutters, not with fear, but with anticipation. He’s never used that tone with you before. You didn’t know he even had that tone. You rise to your feet, shaky but obedient. His gaze doesn’t waver, not for a second, and when you slowly unbutton your jeans, you hear his breath hitch. You peel them down inch by inch, revealing the lace underneath. It's lacy and black and barely-there, which has him groaning loudly.

“Fuck,” he mutters, raking a hand through his hair. “You wore those for me?”

You nod, heat climbing your chest. “Wanted to look good.”

“You always look good,” he says, standing. “But right now?” He grabs your jaw, thumb brushing your lower lip. “Right now, you look mine.”

You barely have time to gasp before he’s kissing you again, but it’s rougher this time, and he’s completely hungry. His hands slide down your back and under your thighs, lifting you like you weigh nothing. You wrap around him instinctively, arms around his neck, legs around his waist.

He carries you to the bedroom with absolutely no hesitation. The lights stay off, and you can see how only the hallway glow outlines his sculpted silhouette, his broad shoulders and clenched jaw, with eyes like sin.

He throws you onto the bed. It’s not hard, but it’s far from gentle. You land on the mattress with a breathless laugh, already aching. He drags his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor, and you stare dumbly. You’ve seen him in a hundred stages of undress, but this is different.

This is for you. “You like what you see?” he asks, smirking.

“You know I do.”

He’s on you in a second, large body crawling over you like a storm, settling between your legs, and pinning your wrists above your head.

“I’m not gonna be soft tonight,” he says, low. “You sure you can take it?”

“Yes,” you whisper, breath shallow. “Good.” He nips your earlobe. “Because I’m done pretending I don’t want to ruin you.”

You shiver. “Then do it.” That’s all it takes.

His mouth is everywhere at once, on your neck, chest, and even the tops of your breasts. He pulls your bra down, not even bothering to unclip it, and mouths at your nipples like they’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

You whimper, arching under him, but he pins your hips down with one hand.

“Stay still,” he growls. “You’ll cum when I say so.”

You moan, much louder than you mean to, and he smirks against your skin. “I knew it,” he murmurs. “I knew you’d like being told what to do, little slut.”

His hand slips between your thighs, cupping you through your soaked panties. “Look at you. So wet for me. So ready to be used.”

You squirm, growing needier by the minute, but he slides the thin, lacy fabric aside and pushes two fingers inside you in one slow, maddening stroke. You cry out even louder than before, everything clenching around him, and he groans deep in his chest.

“Fuck, baby. This pussy was made for me.” He fucks you with his fingers until you’re shaking and a completely hot mess under his touch. When you get close to the edge, so close you can taste it, he pulls out suddenly, making you sob his name, and grabs your chin again.

“Eyes on me.”

You obey. “You gonna let me take you how I want?” he asks.

“Yes.”

“Gonna be a good girl and let me own you tonight?”

“Yes, Seungcheol. Please.”

That breaks something in him. He rips your panties off, quite literally tears them down the side, and lines his thick cock up with no preamble and absolutely no teasing.

“You ready?” he murmurs, one last check. You nod, breathless.

He thrusts himself in deep, with one long, thick stroke, and your head rolls back with a moan that could shatter glass.

“Look at you,” he grits out. “So tight, so fucking perfect.”

You dig your nails into his back, legs trembling around his waist, but he grabs your wrists again and pins them to the bed. “No hiding,” he pants. “No running. You take every inch.”

And you do.

He fucks you slow but hard, every thrust he makes is deliberate and possessive, like he’s carving his name into your body. He kisses you between each stroke, filthy praise spilling from his mouth.

“Such a good girl.”

“My perfect fucking birthday gift.”

“No one else gets this. Just me. Mine.”

You don’t know which sensation is stronger: the stretch, the praise, or the way he’s staring at you like he’s falling apart. When you cry out his name again, his rhythm falters, but just for a second.

“You close?”

You nod, gasping.

“Hold it.”

“Cheol…”

“Hold it.”

His hand moves between your bodies, thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. The restraint is agony. He feels it, he feels you clenching, trembling.

“Beg for it.”

“Please!”

“Louder.”

“Please, Seungcheol. Please let me cum. I need it, I need you-”

“Now.”

You explode. Your whole body shudders as white-hot pleasure rips through you, and he doesn’t stop his hips; instead, he keeps fucking you through it, whispering how beautiful you are, and how perfect you feel.

He follows seconds later, groaning your name like it’s a prayer, spilling into you with a final, deep thrust. His body collapses onto yours, damp skin against damp skin, hearts racing in sync. For a long moment, neither of you moves.

Then he shifts his body,  slowly and carefully, and places kisses on your forehead, your cheeks, and lastly, your lips.

“You okay?”

You nod, still high, still floating. “That was…”

He chuckles softly. “Yeah.”

You both breathe in silence. Then he speaks again, voice lower. “I meant it, you know.”

You glance at him, dazed. “Meant what?”

“You’re mine.” His hand cups your face, thumb stroking your cheek. “Not just for tonight.”

You blink up at him, your heart thudding in your chest again, this time not from lust, but from something much deeper.

“Good,” you whisper. “Because I’m not giving you back.”

He smiles, a real one, soft and warm.

+ bonus