💜

The smell of gunpowder still clung to your clothes.

The room was rife with tension. Gunil stared down at both of you with a harsh glint in his eyes.

"The mission was to stay hidden," He said. His tone was low, but the disappointment in his voice slice through you like a knife. "And what did you do?"

"It's not my fault you paired me up with someone who can't follow orders." Jooyeon replied, not taking any responsibility for anything as usual.

To say that you hated him would be an overreaction, but disdain rose up your throat like bile. The problem with Jooyeon was that he acted like an unruly child. Always acting out. Always riling people up.

And you seemed to be his favourite target.

The mission was doomed to fail from the start. It seemed like an easy enough mission at first. You simply had to go in, get some intel and get out. But then you found out who your partner for this mission was.

You didn't know what Gunil was thinking, pairing Jooyeon up with you and expecting you to act like a newlywed couple. The two of you had never got along, but you had hoped that Jooyeon would at least behave himself on a mission.

You were wrong. So very wrong. The only thing Jooyeon seemed interested in was goading you. But you didn't give in. You couldn't disappoint Gunil. Jooyeon had actually eased up halfway through, focusing on the job. Things were going well.

That is until the businessman you had chosen as your mark tried to flirt with you. And Jooyeon had lost it.

You took a sharp breath. "You're the one who punched the guy, Jooyeon."

"He tried to punch me first!" Jooyeon protested.

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Because you called him a slut!" You argued.

Jooyeon sneered. "He was acting like a slut. Trying to flirt with someone who was married."

"We aren't actually married!" You yelled.

"That's enough." Gunil's voice cut through the room. He wagged his finger at both of you like he was telling a child off. "Both of you need to work together until the you figure out how you're going to fix this mess."

What? You couldn't work with Jooyeon. Today's events were proof enough of that.

You opened your mouth to protest, but Gunil spoke again before you could. "And I don't want any complaints. Either figure it out or leave." His words held a shade of finality that told you that you had really messed up this time.

Pressing your lips together, you nodded sullenly. From the corner of your eye you saw that Jooyeon was doing the same.

Satisfied that you weren't going to argue, Gunil turned around and left. As soon as the door close behind him, Jooyeon let a laugh slip. "Well the old man was sure angry."

His audacity brought back the surge of irritation inside you. You spun on your feet, stalking towards Jooyeon. "What the fuck is your problem?" You asked, voice dark.

For a minute, Jooyeon looked like a deer caught in headlights and that surprised and pleased you at the same time. But he recovered fast, and the smug expression he always wore was back. "What do you mean?"

He wasn't fooling you, though. You had realized something today. And if you weren't so angry you might not have used it against him. But you were pissed.

You leaned in closer, face inches away from his, relishing in the panic in his eyes that he was trying desperately to hide. You dropped your voice a little, almost purring. "Why did you punch the guy, Jooyeon?"

It was a gamble. But Jooyeon swallowed your bait, hook, line and sinker.

"I already told you why. He was asking for it." Jooyeon managed to keep his voice from shaking. But you knew he was cracking.

"Hmm," You muttered, pretending to contemplate that. "It's just weird, you see?"

If you weren't so close, you wouldn't have heard the way Jooyeon's breath shook. "What do you mean?"

"Well…" You dragged the syllables out. "You might be annoying as hell but you're not stupid. You wouldn't have risked a mission like that no matter how much you hated me."

You scanned your eyes over him, biting back a smile at how he was trying to hide how terrified and turned on he was at the same time.

"Unless," You stepped forward even more, making him flinch, clearly fighting the urge to stumble back.

You grabbed his chin in your hand, fingers lightly pressing into his cheeks. You couldn't hold back your smirk this time. "Unless you don't hate me at all."

Jooyeon looked like he was losing the battle with himself. "Don't fool yourself." He breathed out, but the words were weak. They made you want to ruin him even more.

You ran your thumb over his lower lip and Jooyeon all but melted under your touch. "I don't think I'm the fool here, baby."

You leaned in ghosting over his lips and Jooyeon's eyes fluttered shut. He was almost too easy.

"Come on, we have a plan to make." You said, moving away.

Jooyeon's eyes flew open "Wha—?"

Checkmate.

He looked completely wrecked and you had to shut the door behind you before you burst out laughing.

You and Jungsu have a routine. Everyday, after you’re done with your classes, you wait for him under the big tree in front of your school, and the two of you walk home together.

Except, today he isn’t there.

This never happens. You don’t remember one single day when the two of you hadn’t walked together. He was always there.

Maybe he just got late.

You decide to wait. He'll get there soon, you’re sure. He must have just gotten caught up with something. Besides, it’s not even that late.

You wait. And wait. And wait. People walk past you without a single glance, the minutes slipping by with no sign of Jungsu.

Did he leave without you?

No, he wouldn’t have. You have a routine.

You see Seungmin, Jungsu and your friend, walk by. You run to him. “Seungmin, wait!”

He turns around in surprise. “Y/n? You’re still here?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for–did you see Jungsu today?” You gasp.

Seungmin tilts his head, confused. “Who?”

You blink, taken aback. What does he mean who? Are all of them pulling a prank on you? “Jungsu, our friend? The one who walks home with me everyday?”

Seungmin stares at you in concern. “Y/n, are you okay? Are you sick? We don't know anyone named Jungsu.”

“What?” You scoff. “Seungmin this isn't funny. What do you mean you don't know Jungsu?”

Seungmin looks at you like he thinks you're going crazy. “Y/n. We’ve never known a Jungsu. I've never heard you even say that name before today. Are you sure you're okay?”

What is he talking about? Of course you've mentioned Jungsu before, you're all friends! You don’t think there has been a day when the two of you weren’t together. And Seungmin knows this.

But it doesn’t seem like a prank. Seungmin looks completely serious, like you’re the one being crazy.

You spot Jiseok coming towards you from the corner of your eye. Before he could say hi, you spin around, making him jump. “Jiseok, did you see Jungsu today? Seungmin is being weird and saying he doesn’t know who that is.”

Jiseok eyes go wide in the same way Seungmin's did. He looks at Seungmin who just shrugs. “Uh…Y/n? What are you talking about?”

“Do you know Jungsu or not?!” You plead, desperately.

Jiseok shakes his head. “Are you okay? Are you sick?” He raises his hand to steady you when you stumble backward but you shake him off.

“I–” You say, “I think I need to go home.”

Ignoring Seungmin’s concerned yell to wait, you run all the way home, your mind racing.

This was so weird you couldn’t wrap your head around it. Why were Seungmin and Jiseok acting so weird?

Unsettled, you push it to the back of your head, telling yourself that Junsgu would be there tomorrow.

After all, the two of you had a routine.

You and Jungsu have a routine. Everyday, after you’re done with your classes, you wait for him under the big tree in front of your school, and the two of you walk home together.

Except, today he isn’t there.

This never happens–

It happened yesterday too.

You don’t remember one single day when the two of you hadn’t walked together–

But you do. Yesterday.

He was always there–

Yesterday, he wasn’t.

What was going on? There was a nagging voice knocking at the back of your head, and you did not know what to make of it. You and Jungsu did have a routine that you followed everyday.

Everyday, except yesterday.

No, no that wasn’t true. You remembered–Why couldn’t you remember–

You see Seungmin, Jungsu and your friend, walk by. You run to him. “Seungmin, wait!”

Déjà vu.

Seungmin doesn’t know Jungsu. Jiseok doesn’t know Jungsu. It feels like you’re the only person who knows Jungsu.

What was going on?

You’re walking home. You don’t remember starting to walk home. You need to find Jungsu, but your feet wouldn’t stop–

No, what were you thinking? You know Jungsu will be there tomorrow.

Do you? He wasn’t there today. He wasn’t there yesterday.

No, he will be. You two have a routine.

You and Jungsu have a routine. Everyday, after you’re done with your classes, you wait for him under the big tree in front of your school, and the two of you walk home together.

Except you don’t anymore. Because he’s been missing for three days.

You know he’s not going to be there. You know Seungmin’s is going to pass by soon and you’re going to run up to him and he won’t know Jungsu.

You have a new routine.

You don’t want a new routine. You want Junsgu.

You see Seungmin. Almost run to him.

But then you turn around.

You need to find Jungsu. You need to.

Maybe he’s at his home. Maybe you need to just walk to his home and find him and get your routine back.

Nodding to yourself, you start walking. And then you stop.

Where did Jungsu live? Why did you not know where Jungsu lives? You had known him forever!

You need to find Junsgu. You can’t lose him.

But where do you even look? All you know is that you have a routine.

Why don’t you know anything else? No, why do you have a routine in the first place? Why have you never done anything else? Why were you stuck repeating the same actions everyday?

Why did Jungsu disappear? Why did you get a new routine, without him?

You know you’re not getting Jungsu back.

You scream.

You and Jungsu have a routine. Everyday, after you’re done with your classes, you wait for him under the big tree in front of your school, and the two of you walk home together.

But he’s not going to be there. No matter how long you wait. You know he’s not coming.

Because your routine had changed. It had erased Jungsu.

But you couldn’t lose Jungsu. You needed to find him.

And that’s why you were going to break the routine–

You and Jungsu have a routine. Everyday, after you’re done with your classes, you wait for him under the big tree in front of your school, and the two of you walk home together.

Except, today he isn’t there.

This never happens. You don’t remember one single day when the two of you hadn’t walked together. He was always there.

Maybe he just got late.

You decide to wait. He'll get there soon, you’re sure. He must have just gotten caught up with something. Besides, it’s not even that late.

You wait. And wait. And wait. People walk past you without a single glance, the minutes slipping by with no sign of Jungsu.

Did he leave without you?

No, he wouldn’t have. You have a routine.

You see Seungmin walk by...and Junsgu is with him?

What was happening? He was not supposed to be there. He was gone–

He’s back. He’s laughing, and for a moment you feel like everything is going to be alright again.

You run to Jungsu. “Jungsu, wait!”

He turns around, and the laughter slides off his face. He gives you a polite smile. “Yes?”

Weird. He was acting weird. You feel like cold all of a sudden, like someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on you.

“Why weren’t you at the tree?” You ask, coldness creeping up your spine. “I was waiting for you!"

Jungsu looks at you blankly. “Do I know you?”

You were at your best friend’s apartment, just like any other lazy Sunday. The soft sound of rain against the windows wrapped the room in its calm, and you were curled up with Wonwoo on the couch, both of your legs tangled under the blanket.

It was the kind of closeness you had already shared a hundred times before. But today, something in the air felt charged. It felt different and heavy with unspoken things. Your skin tingled with a strange anticipation and every brush of his arm or graze of his hoodie sleeve against your wrist sent goosebumps up your spine. You glanced over to look at your best friend. His glasses sat low on his nose, his hair still slightly damp from the drizzle earlier and he looked effortlessly beautiful, yet completely unaware of it. He was reading with brows slightly furrowed and jaw relaxed, but your eyes lingered on his mouth a moment too long.

 “You gonna keep staring, or...?” he said with his low and teasing voice.

You jumped slightly, flustered. “I wasn’t.”

He didn’t look up. “You were,” he said, the corner of his mouth curving up in a smirk that never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

“You wish,” you muttered, turning your gaze back to the rain. But your heart was racing now.

“It’s the rain,” you added, trying to sound casual. “It makes everything feel... weird.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pretending to read. “You always get soft when it rains.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words got stuck behind your teeth as a distant roll of thunder rumbled.

“I had a dream about you,” Wonwoo said suddenly, his voice quiet but clear.

You blinked. “What kind of dream?”

He didn’t answer right away. He closed his book slowly and set it on the table without looking at you. “You kissed me,” he said finally. “Just kissed me. But it felt like I’d been waiting forever for it.”

“Was it... weird?” you asked, trying to sound light, but your voice cracked slightly.

“No,” he said, and this time he looked right at you. “It was the opposite. It felt like everything made sense, all at once. Like everything before had just been... waiting for that.”

You didn’t know what to say and the air between you stretched.

“You’ve been quiet,” he said softly. “I can’t tell if that’s a bad sign.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Wonwoo exhaled, his gaze flickering down to your lips before settling back on your eyes. “Because I was scared. I thought if I said it out loud, it would break whatever this is. And I didn’t want to lose you. But lately... it’s getting harder to act like I don’t notice how good it feels when your knee touches mine. Or how I keep making excuses to sit closer than I need to. How I keep catching myself looking at your mouth instead of your eyes.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

“I don’t just look at you like a friend anymore,” he went on, voice low and uneven now. “I look at you like someone I want to know every part of. Not just your favourite takeout or your coffee order. I want to know how your skin feels under my hands. What kind of sounds you make when someone’s kissing you slowly. I want—”

“Wonwoo-” you whispered, breath shaky.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes flicking down again, this time slower. “I want you. And I’ve been trying so hard to hide it. But it’s killing me not to touch you when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” you asked, barely breathing.

“Like you want me too,” he murmured.

You didn’t move.

Neither did he.

But you could feel the tension strung tight between you, so you closed the distance.

And kissed him.

It wasn’t careful, not really. It was years of tension unravelling all at once. His lips moved against yours slowly, like he was tasting something forbidden. His hands came to your waist, fingers flexing but not pulling, as if they were waiting for permission.

When you moved closer, you felt the quiet exhale he gave against your lips, relief maybe, or something even deeper. The kiss deepened gradually. Your hands twisted in his hoodie. He exhaled softly against your lips, and that small sound shifted something in you. When his hands slipped beneath the hem of your shirt to rest on your back, he paused, pressing your foreheads together.

“We don’t have to,” he whispered. “We can stop here.”

You shook your head, just barely. “Don’t want to stop. Not anymore.”

He gave you that soft, boyish smile that disarmerd you everytime. And when he kissed you again, it felt like everything was finally falling into place. His hands rested softly at your hips, thumbs tracing quiet circles over the fabric of your shirt before he pulled you into his lap. His lips parted for you easily, and you sank into him as his hands slid up your back, under your shirt, feeling you for the first time.

When your hips shifted in his lap, his breath caught in his throat. You felt the undeniable pressure of him beneath you, and something about the way he looked at you, like you were the only thing in the world he had ever truly wanted, made your whole body ache with anticipation.

“Can I take this off?” he asked quietly, his fingers grazing the hem of your shirt.

You nodded, lifting your arms as he slowly tugged it over your head. He didn’t speak right away. He just looked at you for a long, quiet moment and then his hands rose gently to your face, cupping it softly.“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered it like he had known it all along and finally had the chance to say it out loud.

He leaned in, and instead of kissing your mouth right away, he pressed his lips to your cheek, then to your temple, then to the edge of your jaw. Each kiss was deliberate and patient. He was learning you this way now, after waiting for years. When his mouth reached your neck, he lingered there, simply breathing you in.

Your hands found their way into his hair, lightly tugging at it as his mouth drifted lower to your collarbone, where he kissed you again and again until you gasped softly, unable to hold the sound back.

He smiled against your skin. “That’s the sound I wanted to hear.”

You let your bra slip from your shoulders, and he paused, looking up at you with eyes full of love, asking not just for permission to touch you, but for permission to cherish you. When you nodded, his hands slid up your sides, fingertips brushing over your ribs before his thumbs grazed across your nipples, making you shiver beneath him. He kissed the space between your boobs, then moved lower, his mouth closing gently over one while his hand caressed the other, all of it slow and intentional, like he wanted to memorize how you responded to every touch.

There was no urgency in his movements, no rush. It wasn’t about lust, he was taking his time to learn your body and to discover your reactions

When he eased you back onto the couch, his hand stayed in yours. He knelt between your legs and started with the inside of your knee, trailing kisses up your thigh without rushing toward the obvious. His fingers smoothed over your hips like he was calming you, letting you know you were safe with him.

You breathed his name, soft and pleading. “Wonwoo…”

“I want to take care of you. I’ve thought about this. About you.”

He looked up at you as he slowly slid your shorts and underwear down together, his gaze never wavering, like he was falling in love all over again just by seeing you like this.

And then he kissed you there.

It wasn’t hurried or teasing. It was a soft, open-mouthed kiss that made your entire body tremble. He groaned, like just the taste of you undid him.

His tongue moved with purpose, gentle and slow, while his hands held your thighs steady. You arched toward him, your breath coming fast, your fingers gripping the edge of the blanket.

“Just like that,” you whispered.

Wonwoo looked up and smiled, flushed and breathless, his glasses fogged up, his hair already messy from your hands. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, then dipped back down, slower now, drawing circles with his tongue that made you gasp.

He treated you carefully. When he slid a single finger inside, he watched your reaction closely, adjusting to your every movement and sound.

“More?” he asked gently.

You nodded. “Yes.”

He added another finger, working in rhythm with his tongue, and your voice cracked from the intensity. Your hips rose, your body trembling as the pleasure built.

“That’s it, love. Let go. I’ve got you.”

You came with a soft cry, your body trembling as he held you through it, never letting go, kissing your thighs as you slowly came back to yourself. When he finally moved up to hold you again, your arms reached for him instinctively, needing him close.

“You okay?” he asked softly, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

You nodded, still catching your breath. “More than okay.”

When he moved back up to you, you pulled him back into your arms. His mouth found yours and your hand slid down in his sweatpants to wrap around him. He gasped into your mouth. “Your turn,” you whispered cheekily

You stroked him slowly, feeling him pulse in your hand, watching the way his breath stuttered and his body tensed as he pressed his forehead to yours. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how undone he looked already.

“God,” he whispered, his voice barely holding together. “That feels… too good.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth, your hand moving in slow, steady strokes. “Good.”

You let your thumb brush across the head of him, slick and warm, and his hips jerked slightly into your hand before he caught your wrist, stilling your movements with a gentle grip.

“If you keep doing that,” he said, voice low and rough, his lips ghosting over your cheek, “I’m not going to last.”

“Then don’t wait,” you said, your voice soft but sure. “I want you. Now.”

His hand moved down your thigh, fingers spreading wide as they traced your skin like he was memorizing every inch. He lined himself up carefully, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pressed into you, the thick head of him parting you inch by inch.

“Look at me,” he whispered.

“I am,” you said, voice trembling.

He entered you with one long, slow push that made both of you gasp. You clung to him, your hands on his back, holding him close as he filled you completely. He stayed there for a moment, unmoving, forehead pressed to yours, and the only sounds between you were your shaky breaths and the quiet rhythm of rain against the windows.

“Okay?” he asked, his voice tight with restraint.

You nodded, reaching up to cup his jaw and pull him into a kiss. “Better than okay.”

When he started to move, he let you feel every part of him with each thrust. Your bodies fit together so perfectly that it felt almost unreal, like something you had only dreamed until now.

You moaned softly against his mouth, and he kissed you harder, deeper, his hands exploring your body like he still couldn’t believe you were real. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, the space between your breasts, and with every motion of his body, he gave more of himself, and with every kiss, he asked for more of you.

“You feel unreal,” he murmured, voice rough with emotion. “Like I’ve been dreaming this... and I just woke up inside it.”

You cupped his face, your smile trembling with emotion as tears you hadn’t expected filled your eyes.

“This is real,” you whispered.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and the pace between you grew more desperate. He kept whispering your name with every roll of his hips. When his rhythm faltered and your body began to tremble again, his breath was warm against your skin.

“Let go with me,” he whispered. “Please… I want to feel it.”

And you did.

Your second climax built slowly, pulling you apart until you gasped his name and held on tight. He followed soon after, whispering your name like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, his body shuddering as he released deep inside you.

He collapsed gently on top of you, arms around your waist, still holding you like he couldn’t stand to let go. You traced slow shapes on his back with your fingers, your bodies tangled together, your breathing slowly evening out.

After a long, quiet moment, he pulled back just enough to see your face.

“You okay?” he asked again, his voice low and full of care.

You nodded, your whole body still humming from everything he had given you. “Yeah. You?”

He nodded too, his eyes soft and searching. “I didn’t know it could feel like that.”

You smiled and brushed a damp lock of hair from his forehead.

“I love you,” he said again, his voice clear and steady now.

You kissed him, your hand cupping his cheek. “I love you too.”

Smut Warnings: Feminization, Hyeongjun wears a skirt and lace panties, Handjob, Premature Ejaculation, Multiple Orgasms, Marking.

Hyeongjun was still wearing the skirt when you step inside the hotel room.

He doesn’t know why he didn’t take it off. Usually he would tear his stage clothes off, and crawl into bed, the post-concert crash hitting him hard. He should have been in comfortable clothes by now, ready to curl up against you like a cat and go to sleep.

Instead he’s lying on the bed, wearing a miniskirt that barely covers his ass.

You freeze when you catch sight of him. “Hyeongjun?” You say, voice soft. “You didn’t change yet?”

His eyes snap to yours, pink dusting his cheeks. He looks like you caught him doing something wrong. “No, I was just going to! Just felt lazy.”

Your lips pull up in a chuckle. “Did you?” You walk over to him, kiss him gently. “Don’t lie to me, Hyeongjun.”

Hyeongjun grimaces. He looks like he’s about to say something but he doesn’t.

You drag your hand downwards, slipping it under the skirt. Your eyes widen when you realize what Hyeongjun is wearing underneath.

“Lace?” Surprise makes you giggle, running your fingers over the white lace stretching across Hyeongjun’s dick.

Hyeongjun groans. She’s already hard, straining against the fabric. You press down on her dick, smiling when she squirms.

“When did you buy this, pretty girl?” You ask, amused.

A whine slips out of her, hips rolling up against your hand. “W—what did you just call me?”

You grin. “Pretty girl. You like being called that. don’t you, baby?”

Hyeongjun shudders, coming before she even realizes how close she was. She groans, hiding her face into her hands, eyes falling shut.

Her eyes snap open when she hears you laugh. “I guess that answered my question.”

“Is that—do you find it weird?” She asks, quietly.

That sends you reeling. How did she come to that conclusion?

“What? Hey, no. Baby, look at me.” You pry her hands away gently, only to find tears gathering at the edge of her eyes. “Hyeongjun. I love you, all of you. I don’t find you weird at all, darling. I thought it was obvious that I found the idea of you being my pretty girl hot.”

A tear slips out. Hyeongjun’s voice cracks. “You do?”

“Yes.” You wipe the tear away, give her a soft smile. “You’re my pretty girl, Junnie.”

The smile she gives you is dazzling. “Call me that again.”

You kiss her gently. “Pretty girl.” You push her long hair away from her neck, trailing it with kiss and making it bloom redish-purple. “My pretty girl.”

She squirms under you, little moans slipping out every so often. When you finally look up, satisfied with the marks you left all over her, she’s panting. “My make-up stylist is going to hate you for that.” She giggles.

You grin. “Don’t they already?” You slip your hand down, play with the edge of her panties. “Let’s get these off, yeah?”

Hyeongjun nods and you drag the lace off her slowly. She’s hard again, and her eyes close with a sigh when you wrap your hand against her dick.

“A—aren’t you going to take the skirt off too?” She asks, voice shaky.

There’s a glint in your eye and glee in your voice when you speak. “Your stylists already hate me, don’t they? I’ve got nothing to lose.”

“Wha—” Hyeongjun’s question gets cut off by a moan when you speed up, pushing her towards the edge embarrassingly fast.

Hyeongjun groans, fingers clawing at the bedsheets. She can feel the orgasm coming, but she can’t seem to form words to tell you that.

You seem to know anyway. “Are you going to come, pretty girl?”

Hyeongjun means to say yes. It comes out as a plead instead.

You smirk. “Already?”

Your hand slows. Hyeongjun scrambles to beg. “No—please. Please let me come, please.”

“I never said you couldn’t, baby.” Your smirk widens. “Go ahead.”

You pull your hand away. Hyeongjun looks at you confused. You can’t possibly be telling her to come untouched, could you?

Then you smoothen the skirt down. And Hyeongjun understands. She whimpers when the fabric brushes against her dick, and her hips roll up instinctively.

You press down on her the dick, making the skirt rub against her more. Hyeongjun comes hard, staining the fabric. She moans, shaking from the aftereffects.

You kiss her softly, play with her hair, whispering sweetness against her skin. She pants, pulling you down beside her and curling into you.

“We should probably get you cleaned up, baby.” You whisper

She grumbles in protest, making you laugh. “Come on.” You say, pulling the skirt off her before she starts feeling too gross.

She lets you take the skirt off but then pulls you back down when you move to get up.

“Hyeongjun.” You try again. “You’re going to feel really gross when you wake up if you fall asleep like this.”

It doesn’t work. She clings to you harder, burying her face into the crook of your neck. “We can clean up later.” She mumbles.

You give up. With a sigh, you pull her closer. “If you throw a tantrum tomorrow about how gross you feel, I’m going to never kiss you again.”

She giggles. “I won’t. We’re not going to fall asleep like this.”

You do end up falling asleep like that. She does throw a tantrum in the morning.

(You kiss her anyway.)

Warnings: Pet play kind of, Biting, Hair pulling, A little bit of Thigh Riding, Edging.

It doesn’t surprise you at all when your phone screen lights up.

I accidently ordered dinner for two. You don’t want the food to go to waste, do you? The text makes you smirk. Jooyeon is so predictable.

It had become a routine for the two of you now. Him ‘accidently’ ordering extra food and you rushing to his apartment as soon as you got the text.

The door creaks a bit when you push it open, stepping inside. He’s in the kitchen, pretending not to notice you come in, but the way his back stiffens when he hears your footsteps tells you everything you want to know anyway.

You slip your arms around his waist, pressing into his back. “Missed me, puppy?” You ask, lips brushing his neck.

You don’t miss the way he shivers, gripping the counter tightly. “I didn’t.” He manages to keep the tremble out of his voice. “You just show up anyway.”

You grin, stepping away. “Should I leave then?”

“No!” He spins around, panic making him stumble. And then he sees your expression. His lips pull down in a scowl. “I mean,” He swallows, “You can do whatever you want.”

You hum, walking towards him again. For each step you take forward, he takes one back. Until his back hits the counter and he freezes.

You smile, leaning forward and trapping him against the counter. “Lying isn’t good, puppy.”

Jooyeon’s eyes flit around, looking anywhere but you. “I’m not lying. And stop calling me that.”

You plant a featherlight kiss on his jaw and his breath hitches. “Aww but I know how much you like being called puppy.” You grin against his neck, before biting down, making his skin bloom purple-red. “And I know you don’t actually want me gone.”

Jooyeon’s grip on the counter is so tight that you can see his fingers straining. “I—I don’t.” The quiver in his voice sends a flash of thrill rushing down your spine.

“Oh?” You ask, tilting your head and trailing your hand down, pressing on his dick. Just as you expected, he’s already hard. “Who’s going to help you with this then, puppy?”

You can see how much you’re affecting him by the way he grinds up against your hand. But Jooyeon doesn’t know how to give up. “I don’t need your help.” He grits out.

Stubborn little thing.

You pull your hand away and a whine escapes Jooyeon before he could stop it. You laugh. “I thought you didn’t need my help? I knew you were just all bark and no bite.”

He glares at you. And then, before you can react, he bites your neck just hard enough to leave a mark. You gasp, grabbing a fistful of his hair and wrenching him back.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You snarl.

Jooyeon’s smirk is way too satisfied. “I thought you wanted me to bite, baby?”

You glower. And then chuckle. “Aww, is my puppy teething?”

Jooyeon growls. “Fuck y—”

You shut him off with a kiss, pressing your thigh against his dick. He stumbles a bit, moaning into your mouth. Despite himself, his hips move, rolling against your thigh.

You pull away, pinning his hips down with your hand. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” You say, lips ghosting over the edge of his lips. “What would you have done if I hadn’t come over? Hump your pillow and pretend it was me?”

Jooyeon lets out a strangled groan. “I’m not—I wouldn’t have—”

Your grin is saccharine. “Okay, puppy, whatever you say.” Sugar drips off your voice. You smoothen his hair down, kiss his lips gently, making his eyelids flutter shut.

And then you step away, leaving him leaning against the counter, panting.

Jooyeon’s eyes snap open. “Wha—where are you going?”

You don’t turn to look at him, hiding your laugh as you unpack the cold food. “I came here for dinner, remember? You don’t want the food to go to waste, do you, puppy?”

You weren’t supposed to be here this late.

But ‘last-minute touch-ups’ turned into Chan tugging his hoodie off and muttering, “Come here,” like he hadn’t just seen you bare the night before.

You were technically his choreographer (at least that’s what HYBE’s payroll said). But behind studio doors and dimmed hallway lights, you were his secret.

He had insisted on you choreographing Trigger. It was his only condition for the comeback. “No one understands the way I move like Y/N does,” he had said to the company. You should’ve known that wasn’t just about dance.

His solo track looped in the background, heavy bass pulsing through the practice room.

Chan had you pinned against the mirror by the time the chorus hit, your leg hooked around his waist, his lips hot against your neck.

“You’re not even pretending to work anymore,” you whispered, half out of breath.

His hand slid beneath your tank top. “Because I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

His fingers curled around your hip, pulling you tighter against him. You could feel how hard he already was.

“Chan,” you breathed, biting back a moan when his mouth traced the shell of your ear.

He groaned, low in his throat, before pulling your tank top over your head in one smooth motion. Your bra followed, his hands rough and greedy now, thumbs grazing over your nipples until you gasped.

“Tell me to stop.”

“You know I won’t.”

“Fuck… look at you,” he muttered, voice thick with lust. “Always so ready for me.”

You pulled his sweatpants low, just enough for his cock to spring free, flushed and heavy against his stomach. You dropped to your knees, fingers wrapping around him as he leaned back on the wall with a soft hiss.

Your tongue flicked over the head, slow and deliberate. His hand tangled in your hair, not forcing, just holding.

“You’re gonna make me come too fast if you keep..ah, shit-”

He tugged you up before you could finish, spinning you toward the mirror and bending you over the padded floor. Your palms hit the surface, legs already shaking with need.

“Want me to fuck you like this?” he asked, lining himself up behind you.

You nodded, too breathless to speak.

He pushed in slowly, inch by inch, your body stretching to take him.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groaned, both hands gripping your hips. “And you’re dripping already.”

You moaned, pressing back against him.

He didn’t hold back after that.

Each thrust drove you forward into the mirror, the sound of skin against skin echoing over the music. One hand reached forward, fingers curling around your throat as he leaned in.

“Look at yourself,” he whispered against your ear. “Look how good you take me.”

You met your own reflection, flushed cheeks, parted lips, sweat beading down your chest and the sight of him behind you, shirtless and wild-eyed, nearly sent you over the edge.

“Chan.. fuck, I’m close”

His hand slid down between your thighs, fingers circling your clit in time with his thrusts. “Come for me. Right here, where anyone could walk in.”

That did it.

You came with a shuddering cry, legs trembling, body pulsing around him. He cursed, fucking you through it, chasing his own high.

“Shit” He groaned “Gonna come inside”

You pushed back harder, moaning, “Do it. Please.”

He buried himself deep and came with a ragged moan of your name, chest pressed to your back, breath hot against your shoulder.

And that’s exactly when the door slammed open.

“Dino-ya Got some banana mil-“

You froze.

Chan didn’t even turn around.

“Hoshi-hyung, GET OUT.”

Your soul left your body.

Chan groaned into your shoulder without pulling out. You slapped a hand over your mouth, wide-eyed, staring at the mirror in front of you (not at your disheveled hair or flushed skin or the fact that you were very much still bent over the floor)  at the reflection of Hoshi standing in the open doorway, expression twisted in horror.

“H-hyung—” Chan managed, still not moving. “Can you... not? Please?”

“CAN I NOT?!” Hoshi screeched, turning dramatically to face the hallway. “I CAME TO BRING YOU A BANANA MILK AND INSTEAD I GET TRAUMA. TRAUMA!!!”

You scrambled forward, grabbing the discarded hoodie on the floor to cover your chest, mortified beyond belief. “Soonyoung, please—”

“Oh no, don’t you ‘Soonyoung’ me like we’re friends,” he said, eyes covered with both hands as he backed out of the room. “I’m gonna need THERAPY.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

Silence.

You and Chan were both breathing heavily. He was still buried deep inside you.

“...Should I pull out now or wait until the shame wears off?” he murmured.

You snorted and slapped his thigh. “Chan!”

“What? I’m trying to lighten the mood. Hoshi might never look at me again.”

“Oh, he’ll look,” you muttered. “He just might scream while doing it.”

You sighed, fully collapsing onto the mat. Chan finally slipped out of you and flopped beside you, groaning into your shoulder.

“I was gonna take you out for a real date after this,” he said. “Buy you dinner. Maybe make a move under a streetlamp like a normal person.”

You laughed, cheeks still warm. “And instead I got railed in a studio and traumatized your hyung.”

“You’re welcome.”

You rolled your eyes, but smiled. “So... now what?”

Chan leaned up on one elbow, his eyes soft despite the sweat in his hair and the mess between you. “Now we stop pretending it’s a secret, probably. Because Hoshi has the biggest mouth in the company.”

You sighed again. “So much for keeping things under wraps.”

“I mean,” he grinned, “could be worse.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How?”

He leaned in, whispering against your ear, “Could’ve been Seungcheol.”

You both shuddered.

A moment passed. He reached over and tucked your hair behind your ear, still a little breathless, a little flushed.

“You know I’m serious about you, right?” he asked, quieter this time.

You met his eyes.

“I know.”

He smiled. “Cool. Wanna go for round two? Studio’s already cursed.”

You paused. Thought about it. Then shoved him back down and climbed on top of him.

“Better make it count.”

The mirror is starting to annoy Seungmin.

It stares back at him with the same eerie smile that he had been seeing ever since they left ♭form. He doesn’t understand why it bothers him so much.

If you rig a rigged system, are you a villain or a hero?

Seungmin slaps his hands over his ears. He almost falls off the bed, scrambling for his headphones. Great, he’s hearing voices too now.

In his haste to grab his headphones, he slips, hand hitting his synthesiser. A dissonant note echoes through the room, making the ringing in his ears worse.

He hopes no one heard it. They’re after him.

No, what is he thinking? He’s in the real world. The real world is boring safe.

He puts his headphones on, cranking the volume to the highest. Lying back down on the bed, he pulls his blanket up.

There’s a little crack on the ceiling. He traces it with his eyes. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And forth.

You rig a rigged system, villain? …or a hero?

Seungmin’s eyes snap open. The headphones must have slipped off when he had fallen asleep.

The voice whispers again. Where was it coming from? He reaches down, searching for his headphones.

They’re gone.

No, what? He’s the only one in this room, he lives alone, there’s no way his headphones could be gone. But they are. He can’t find them. Why can’t he find them?

There’s a flash of light above Seungmin’s head and the ♭form logo glows on his vcr goggles, making him flinch.

D-did ♭form somehow steal his headphones?

But no, that’s not possible. He’s in the real world. ♭form is just…a game. It’s not possible.

The logo is still glowing. Enticing Dangerous.

Deciding to give up on his headphones, he stands up, catching his reflection in the mirror. The reflection with dark eyes. It smiles that eerie smile at him.

He looks like a villain hero. He is a villain hero.

The glass splinters, crashing down around him. The pieces stare back at him. The reflections are still smiling.

How…? It couldn’t have broken. It shouldn’t have broken. He’s alone in the room.

Did ♭form really follow him all the way to boring safe real world?

Rig a rigged system, Villain.

Voices. There are voices outside of his door. He runs to his bed, pulling the blanket over his head. It rubs against his hands and he winces, pulling them away to see red staining his palm. Why is he bleeding? Did ♭form find a way to hurt him even in the real world?

He huddles closer to the wall, the blanket pooling around him. The logo glows again.

♭form is dangerous. ♭form is dangerous. ♭form is dangero—

Seungmin wears the goggles.

He’s back. And the people at the Dream Garden seem to adore them.

Flashes of pictures being taken. Yells from the fans for autographs. Cheers from the crowd.

It’s scary thrilling.

Rigged system. Villain.

The voice is too clear. It’s the only thing Seungmin can hear.

Why did the crowds disappear? Why was he…where was he?

Reflections. Reflections everywhere. They stare at him with evil eyes. And they’re laughing.

Villain. Or hero? Villain. Or hero? Villain. Or hero?

The mirror maze. He should have realised. Of course his reflections are everywhere. He needs to get out.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots something.

The mirror is…different. It has ‘If you rig a rigged system, are you a villain or a hero?’ sprawled across it in red.

And Seungmin fits in the word villain better.

The reflection is mocking him. This is ♭form’s doing, making him doubt himself.

He’s a hero. He’s a hero. He’s—

Villain.

The wedding hall hums with excitement, but Seungcheol doesn’t hear a damn thing.

He is pacing the hallway, fists clenching and unclenching, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Not because he’s nervous about marrying you. Hell no. He has been ready for it since the moment you said yes. No, he’s on edge because he can’t see you yet.

“She’s not gonna disappear, you know,” Jeonghan says from his spot by the mirror, adjusting his tie. “You’re marrying her in like, twenty minutes.”

“I know,” Seungcheol mutters under his breath, eyes flicking towards the corridor where your bridal suite is. “I just… need to see her.”

Jeonghan freezes mid-adjustment. “You’re thinking of breaking the no-seeing-the-bride rule?”

“Rules don’t apply today,” Seungcheol says, already moving.

You’re standing in front of the mirror, fussing with a hairpin when the door creaks open behind you.

Your maid of honour gasps. “Cheol?! You can’t be in here! You’re gonna jinx it!”

You turn around, half-panicked, half-speechless. And there he is, your almost-husband, in his perfectly tailored grey suit, looking way too handsome. His eyes find yours and everything else fades.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs, stepping in and closing the door behind him as your maid of honour steps out to give you some privacy. “I just couldn’t wait.”

“Cheol,” you scold, but it comes out soft, your heart stuttering in your chest. “You’re not supposed to see me before the ceremony—”

“Then sue me,” he interrupts, voice low, stepping closer to you. “Because the moment I imagined you in that dress, just minutes away from being my wife… I couldn’t think about anything else and I had to see you.”

You blush as he stops in front of you, his fingers brushing lightly down your bare arm, then resting at your waist. His gaze burns through the layers of lace like it’s nothing.

“Cheol—” you whisper, but he cuts you off, pressing his forehead gently against yours.

“No matter how incredible you look in this dress right now, and God, baby, you do—" His voice dips into a growl. "I can’t wait to take it off tonight.”

You suck in a breath, cheeks flushed and your heart racing wildly. “You’re ridiculous.”

He grins, that boyish, cocky smile you fell for years ago. “I’m in love. It’s incurable.”

Just then, you hear a knock on the door, Joshua’s voice calling, “We’re starting soon!”

“I have to leave you now?" He pouts dramatically. "I don't want to"

You smile, stepping onto your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You get to marry me in like ten minutes.”

“Still not sure how I got so lucky.” Seungcheol presses a lingering kiss to your hand, eyes locked with yours. “You ready to be mine forever?”

You nod, barely managing to speak. “I already am.”

As he slips out of the room, he turns back for one last look. “I’ll try not to cry when I see you walk down the aisle.”

And he fails miserably.

You’re drunk.

You can feel it in the way the streetlights are starting to blur together, and the way the world seems to tilt whenever you take a step forward.

You really shouldn’t have worn heels today because now your feet hurt. You let out a pained groan as you try to balance on the death traps disguised as footwear that you’re wearing. Five minutes away from your apartment, you stumble to a stop turning to Gunil with a pout.

“I’m tired.” You mumble, pressing yourself into Gunil’s side. “Carry me home.”

“We’re just five minutes away, baby.” Gunil says, trying to sound exasperated. But his laugh is fond and honey drips off his voice as he wraps an arm around you.

He’s warm. You could fall asleep like this, stood in the middle of the street, clinging to your boyfriend.

“But,” You whine, dragging out the syllables, “I’m drunk.”

Gunil’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. A simple “I know” rolls of his tongue, but when he reaches down to pull you up in his arms, you hear what he actually means anyway. I love you.

You giggle, burying your face into the crook of his neck as he starts walking again, you anchored safely into his arms. “Thank you.” You say, kissing his nose.

“What would you do without me?” Gunil’s chuckle reminds you of a gentle warmth, the kind that makes flowers bloom.

You spot the pink creeping up on Gunil’s cheeks and grin. “Probably not get home.”

“I spoil you too much.” Gunil mutters, shaking his head, but the smile won’t leave his face.

He’s beautiful. You can’t see any stars above your head but you find them in Gunil’s eyes anyway. Maybe it was the alcohol making you sentimental but you can’t stop staring at him. Gunil’s love is soft, quiet teases and adoring smiles, cheesy jokes and gentle hands.

The kind of love that turned your house into a home.

That thought is enough to make tears spring into your eyes and you bury your face into Gunil’s neck. “Thank you for carrying me.” You whisper against his skin.

Gunil tilts his head. “Thank you for letting me carry you.”

The words sound like a confession. You’re my home too.

And then, because he’s Gunil, he pretends like he’s about to drop you and you squeal, clutching to his shoulders even though you know he would never let you fall. He laughs when you yell at him and you’re too lost in him to not grin back.

There’s an overwhelming amount of beauty everywhere but in your opinion the way Gunil makes your heart race is the most beautiful thing in the world.