Staytiny

Hongjoong jumped out of his skin, at sound of a terrible crash. What was that?

Another crash of lightning sent him out of his bunk, pulling his coat on. He left his cabin and at the same time a couple of his crew emerged from down below.

The wind was getting stronger by the minute. They were heading into a storm. And it wasn't even dawn yet! Another bolt of lightning cracked wildly onto the open sea and a loud boom of thunder followed. The floodgates opened up that very second.

Everyone was wide awake now, getting soaked by the falling rain droplets—icy and sharp, the cold water seeps into all their clothing. Hongjoong quickly threw orders around to breach the sails. But it was too late, a couple of their sails were teared by the strong wind. That's when his heart began to race.

He heard someone calling him over the loud noise of the storm. Yunho it was, informed him that they were near Taurmayus enough that they were able to ride the waves over with just a little prompting. It was off their course but it would be better to be near land and put up their extra sails than die out at sea trying to get to their first destination.

Hongjoong quickly got into motion, taking hold of the wheel. That was the first day he ever prayed to anyone listening. Praying that they were able to make it.

﴿﴾——

©2025 imbaebi — all rights reserved, I don't allow copy of my work. Inspiration is one thing, plagiarism is another. reblogging is appreciated.

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💫ᝰ.ᐟ omg omg omg! the first chapter comes out tmr, i am so nervous! hehe sorry for the vagueness, but it's like this for plot purposes 😃 i am so excited to share with you guys the crazy story that has been plaguing my mind for a full year now 😝 I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did when coming up with the plot! see you guys tmr :)

Now, the room was quiet except for the hum of the equipment and the faint scratching of his pen as he noted something in the margins of a notebook. The smell of coffee lingered. You always brought him coffee to drink, also one for yourself, so that, between your own work, you could stay awake. His rhythmical typing and music were putting you to sleep. Sometimes, well, most of the time, you would fall asleep in the middle of writing, and he would carry you to the car on his shoulders.

His buzzing phone ruined the silence that was settling into the room. He glanced down, frowning. “That’s the delivery,” he said, pushing back from his chair. “I’ll go grab it. Be right back.” He said, kissing your forehead.

You nodded, half-distracted, as he slipped out, the door clicking shut behind him. It felt more like it was outside. No one was around. No one was breathing or making sounds. Still, but strangely, for the first time, too still. The music loop ended without restarting. The hum of the computer felt louder now, the overhead light too pale.

You turned toward the small vanity table in the corner. An old mirror leaned against the wall there, half-decorative, half-practical. You’d left your brush there last time, so you wandered over, brushing your hair out of habit, something to fill the settling piece.

“Let’s fix this bird nest,” you whispered, taking the brush and starting to brush your hair down.

At first, looking at the reflection, it looked ordinary: your face, your movement, the space behind you. Until it wasn’t empty anymore, you froze mid-stroke, eyes flicking up. In the mirror, behind you, stood Chan. His posture was still, his face unreadable, eyes darker than they should have been.

“Hey. I didn’t hear how you came...” You turned around, speaking to him, but the space behind you was empty.

The brush slipped from your hand and clattered to the floor. For a moment, you could hear your own breath loudly in your ears. You slowly turned back toward the mirror. He was still there. But this time closer.

The overhead light flickered unevenly.

“Chan?” you whispered before your mind could stop your voice. “What are you… doing?”

Reflection didn’t answer your question. His mouth curved, just slightly, not something like a smile, but something that mimicked one. It looked like him, but it was wrong. The eyes didn’t follow the light. The reflection didn’t blink. The chest didn’t breathe. It was still. Staring back.

Your pulse raced. What was this? You stepped back, trying to find some space between the two of you. But the thing followed you. It was nearing you from behind… or more like the surface of the mirror. And the moment when it looked like it would break the glass, crawl out, the office door opened behind you.

The real Chan stepped in, holding a takeout bag. “Hey,” he said, tone casual, not noticing you were having an almost panic attack. “Sorry, they forgot the…” He paused when he saw your expression. “What’s wrong?” he frowned, coming close to you, blocking the mirror in front of you.

You looked at him, pointing to the mirror behind his back, but when you looked again, it was just you two. Just the room you stood in and nothing else.

“Did something happen?” he asked, setting the bag down and hugging you closer. Concern was in his voice now.

You shook your head too quickly. “I just thought I saw…” You stopped. It sounded ridiculous out loud. “It’s nothing.” You didn’t finish your words, worried he would think you were strange, seeing things that no one else could see.

Chan’s brows furrowed, but he didn’t push. “You’ve been up late with me too many nights,” he said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You’re starting to see things.”

You laughed weakly, trying to convince both of you it was true. The mirror reflected him perfectly again, just as he was now. His hand brushes hair away from your face, holding you close and keeping you safe. This safe feeling you needed at that moment.

“Come on,” he said. “Eat something before you starve yourself.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back toward the desk. He unpacked the food, and you felt the quiet comfort of normalcy returning. You placed your leg on his lap like you always did, and he turned on a YouTube video for you two to watch while you ate.

But as you sat down to enjoy your meal, something caught your eye - the mirror. In the reflection, it was still standing behind you, where it had been before. Still, unmoving, smiling faintly, watching your every breath, you were making. At the same time, the real Chan set the food down beside you, humming under his breath.

You tried to prove yourself; it was just your tired imagination. You looked up in front of you, finding real Chan right there, holding one hand over your leg, brushing it with his thumb while already eating his food and watching funny animal videos. You knew this was just your tired brain having fun, so ignoring all the things, you looked away, enjoying your meal.

At that time, the reflection raised its hand a second later and pressed it slowly against the glass, fingers leaving no smudge. But wanting to call for you, yet nothing was coming out. But this time, you didn’t turn around, no matter how much you wanted.

In the last moments before it disappeared, Chan glanced at you, who was paying attention to the screen, and then at the mirror. One of his eyes changed, and his mouth mouthed to the reflection, who was trying to escape.

As much as you were perturbed about the disappearance of your cat, you still had to drag yourself to work every morning.

But when you came home that day, a notification sitting untouched on your phone about your ring catching a recording, it all flipped around.

“Hey, I found this little lady wandering around my apartment somehow? I think she got in through an open window, but I remember her being yours. She’ll be with me for now, but come over when you have the chance to scoop her up? She keeps trying to start hissy fits with my cat.”

A warm, charming smile and pretty little dimples. Freckled caramel skin and a strong jaw.

Tousled black hair and sweet eyes that crinkled at the corners, his large arms holding your cat up to the birds-eye camera, giving her a silly look. She meows, seeming content in the strange man’s arms, and he walks away to his own apartment, cooing softly at her as he cradles her in his arms.

That’s how you met San.

He had found your cat and ever so graciously stopped by your door in hopes of dropping her off while you weren’t home. As soon as you saw the recording, you ran out of your home and down the hall to San’s door, knocking gently, trying to mask your excitement.

When he opened the door to your face beaming with happiness, he knew right then and there, he had to find some way to make sure he kept seeing you.

He’s asked to cat sit a few times. You’ve asked him to water your plants while you were out of town. He’s offered to fix your fridge when it started to leak. You offered to collect his mail when he was on a trip.

You scratched his back, and he scratched yours. A sweet and simple relationship that sometimes has blurred lines.

Like when he looked at you like you were beauty embodied, but you brushed it off. Or when you literally felt your heart stop when he held your cat in his arms, littering her little face in kisses, but the heart was a weird thing. He was a little older than you, and sometimes his age showed in the conversations he would hold with you.

But San was always pleasant to talk to, inviting you over for coffee, letting you rant about work, and listening to his stories about his travels around the world with his buddies. All this time living next door to him, and you had never spoken a word to each other until now.

It was a soft, platonic, crutch of a relationship. A person you could talk to after a long day and just be real with. San made you feel real.

Well, things would change very quickly.

And it was all because of a near heatstroke, the electrifying power of the sun, and a broken AC.

It was the dead of summer, one hundred degrees outside, and asphalt you could fry an egg on. And your AC gave out on you, the shitbox.

You had done everything you could to try and remedy it, but no matter what you tried, it was useless. Every YouTube video provided no help, the toolbox under your sink looked like an airplane cockpit to you, and you were so overheated it was getting hard to form thoughts.

Stripped down to just a thin sweat-soaked tank top and volleyball shorts, you rested your forehead against the edge of your balcony, the door wide open as you tried to catch any breeze that the gods felt generous enough to grace you with.

You tried standing in front of your open fridge, but you knew that would raise your bill, so your last resort was begging for wind on your balcony. You closed your eyes and sighed when a moment of fresh air washed over your wet skin, but it was gone just as quickly as it arrived.

“You look like you’re having fun.”

You nearly let out a moan of relief, the familiar voice flooding your ears like God himself was sent to help you.

“San…” you whined weakly, not lifting your head from your balcony. “I need you to rescue me.”

His sweet little laugh hits your ears, and you turn your head to see him standing on his own balcony, smiling at you fondly. “You know I’m just a door away; you could have just knocked and asked.”

You pouted and winced guiltily. “But I’ve been bothering you so much lately and-“

San interrupts you with a raise of his eyebrow and a snort. “You’re never bothering me, sweetheart. I’m always more than willing to help you out, you know that, don’t you?”

An angel, really.

“San, you’re the best.” You hang your head, and droplets of sweat fall onto the hot wood of your balcony. San is already walking back inside his apartment with a knowing smile.

“Let me grab my things.”

-

“How are you alive?”

The moment San stepped into your home, he immediately began to sweat. Your apartment really was that hot. Carrying his toolbox and a determination to bring coolness back to your abode, he nearly soaked his grey tank top upon stepping through your door.

You laugh dryly. “I guess I’m really resilient.”

San runs his free hand through his hair, inhaling deeply as he takes in the situation. “How long has it been like this?” he murmurs, still seemingly in shock over the temperature of your home.

“A few hours, maybe.” You bite your tongue and avoid looking at him, arms crossed as you take a sudden interest in the ceiling.

San scoffs, “It should have taken you 5 minutes to decide to come ask for my help (Name).” You could feel his eyes on you, and it was burning more than the sun.

“Well, excuse me-” before you could finish your sentence, he whistled loudly.

“Hey, over here.” He snaps, and you whip your head in his direction. Your eyes lock, and you watch as they fall from concentration to a strange softness. 

“There you are.” His voice lowers to something so gentle it makes your stomach flip. “Hi, neighbor. So you want this fixed or not?” San lifts his bag and raises his eyebrow in question. Your arms remain crossed, and you nod silently, words seeming to have left you.

“Alright then, c’mon. I want you to watch so you know better next time you’re too embarrassed to ask for my help.”

Your nervousness leaves you as he walks away from you, and you follow with a pep in your step and an annoyance in your tone. “I was not embarrassed, I just didn’t want to drag you out of your comfy air-conditioned home to come sweat off ten pounds trying to fix mine.”

San laughs as he makes a beeline to the closet in your hallway where your air conditioner is located, the metal in his bag clinking with each step. "Sounds like you’re jealous, actually.”

San gets to quick work to diagnose the problem, his head disappearing in the closet as he begins to poke and prod around the broken contraption, murmuring things to himself as he works. Some clanking around and a few screws loose, and he pokes his head from out of the closet.

He looks down at you, your eyes wide and hopeful at the chance of finally being able to feel air conditioning again. He smiles sheepishly, and you already knew bad news was coming.

“Bad news, the entire thing is frozen over.” You let out a defeated groan, and San rests his hands on your bare upper arms.

“Don’t pitch a fit, it’s an easy fix, but you may not like it.” San’s voice is gentle, his hands softly squeezing your arms. You try to ignore the way his skin sticks to yours from the sweat. Pervert.

“What?” You ask dejectedly. San lowers his voice to a whisper.

“You have to turn the heat on.”

You blink a few times, and you feel your entire body go into fight or flight.

“I’d rather you shoot me.” You deadpan, and San squeezes your shoulders one last time before slipping away.

“I’d rather not, babydoll, you give me work to do with my hands. I’d be bored without you.” His grin is genuine, his dimples on proud display, the tendons in his neck flexing, the sweat dripping off his brow. His eyes flick over your face and along your jawline. He licks a drop of sweat off his bottom lip.

And he wants to turn the heat on?

“Is that your way of saying I cause enough trouble to keep you busy?” You gnaw on your bottom lip as San reached behind him and turned the thermostat onto the heat, full blast. 

“You could say that.” He smiles and shuts the closet to the AC, and you could immediately feel the heated air start to flow from the vents around the house.

“I’m gonna die in here.” You whine, wiping the side of your neck with a disgusted face.

San sets down his toolbox, which it seems he brought for almost nothing. “Don’t worry, I’ll stay, and we can die together.”

You can’t help but crack a smile as you walk away and fall onto your carpeted floor with a tired thud. “You know you don’t have to, San.”

He only nods and lies down right next to you, spreading his limbs like a starfish and turning his head to face you. “I know.”

-

The rickety rotating fan San brought over from his apartment did little for your sweltering skin. You sat on your knees directly in front of it, sighing each time the rotation made it to your face, and groaning when it started to spin away.

San was sprawled across your couch, lips wrapped around a blue popsicle you had offered him from your freezer. His arm draped over the back as he watched you on your knees in front of the fan, the sweat trickling down your shoulder blades and leaving streaks on your tank top.

San’s eyes were lidded as his tongue traces absentminded patterns along the icy treat, his gaze fully trained on you. You were too focused on catching the flow of the fan to notice how intensely San was staring at you. His eyes followed the slope of your neck and the divots on your lower back where your tank top rode up over your hips. 

The way your hair sticks to your slick skin and how your shoulders rose and fell with each breath you took. The way your whole body would relax when the air finally reached you, and how it would tense right back on when it moved away.

The AC was not the only thing that was making San feel hot all over; he couldn't take his eyes off you. Dribbles of sugary blue melted down his wrist, and just when he lowered his mouth to clean up the mess, you turned to ask him a question.

His eyes lock with yours as you turn, but his mouth doesn't cease its movement. His pretty pink tongue slips out and licks up the trail that dripped down his tan wrist.

He mumbles out a low ‘hm?’ as his tongue lies flat against his skin and drags it up his wrist. Your words fail you once again as your eyes fall to his mouth against his skin, and yet San can’t find it in him to rip his gaze away from your pretty, desperate eyes.

“Do- is it good?” You stumble over your question, completely forgetting what you were originally going to ask him. San smiles and licks up the side of the popsicle until he stops and bites the end off of it with a silent snap.

“Very, thank you, sweetheart.” He chews on the blue ice, and you swallow.

“It's the best I can do since you won’t let me pay you.” You swirl your body around so you can fully face him, and grin as he bites off another small piece.

“Your company is payment enough.” He tells you that every time, because every time it goes the same way.

Something breaks, and San comes to your rescue. While he fixes it, you chat idly, and after he’s done, the conversation just seems to flow on even longer. He considers that his payment, always insisting that your time was his currency.

You’ve tried to shove at least a 20 down his throat, but he’ll never take it. You opened your mouth to argue some more, but as you did, your cat walked around the corner of the couch with a soft meow.

“Oh, and where have you been?” You call to her as he rubs herself on San’s man spread legs with a happy meow. San sticks his ice cream into his mouth and reaches down to scoop her into his arms.

“Hello, little lady.” He coos at her, rubbing his nose against hers and scratching her neck as he cradles her. She purrs contentedly, and you watch in near awe.

“Your mom's grumpy about her AC.” He whispers to her, and you roll your eyes. Almost as if she could understand, she meows quietly. 

“I hope you’re not conspiring with my cat.” You narrow your eyes playfully, and San gently sets her down back on the ground. She meanders her way over to you, placing her front paws on your knee as you reach down and pet her gently.

“I would never.” His popsicle is dripping again; it’s gotten down his chin this time, along his strong jaw, and dropped onto his tank top.

You inhale sharply. “You’re making a mess on my couch.” Your cat bounds away quietly, off to whatever little secret spot she’s been hiding in this entire time.

San looks down at the blue spot on his shirt and laughs softly. “Oops.” He lifts his thumb to his chin and wipes the river of blue on his chin. But as he moves to dip his thumb into his mouth, you move quicker.

You stand from your spot and snatch his wrist, and slip it into your mouth without hesitation. You clean the sticky sugary mess off his thumb, swirling your tongue around it slowly, keeping your eyes on him. San’s eyes are wide, surprised, and intrigued.

You’re not sure what on earth possessed you to do that, so you move back away from him. But San doesn’t let that happen.

His fingers curl around and grip your jaw, keeping your head in place, his thumb pressed down against your tongue, and he guides your head closer to him. You were trapped in his strong hold, and you felt your head begin to swim.

His fingers press into the flesh of your cheek, pursing your lips around his thumb, and the heat in your blood increases substantially when he keeps your head still so you can’t direct your embarrassed gaze away from him.

“Was that worth it?” He teases with a small grin, the hand with the popsicle lifting to slip the pop back into his mouth, running it up and down his tongue, which had turned blue by now. All the while, the thumb in your mouth mimicked his movement, stroking your tongue slowly.

You totally don’t notice the way his legs slightly spread further open, how he readjusts the angle of his hips. He totally doesn’t notice the way your thighs clench together and how your teeth scrape against his nail. You also don’t notice the way he looks at you like he wants to eat you, and he for sure doesn’t notice how you look at him like that’s all you’ve ever wanted in the world.

He slips his thumb out of your mouth so slowly it seems like time itself has been paused, a very thin trail of saliva connected between his nail and your parted lips, snaps like a silent cue. 

Your eyelids flutter, and San’s tongue darts out and licks a stripe up the pad of his thumb, before popping the ice cream back in his mouth.

He stands, leaving you dumbfounded on the floor below him. “Let’s go check and see how much that AC has thawed; this heat is getting unbearable.”

-

“I’d give it at least another hour before we can run the cool again.” San peers into the closet, and you feel a sigh of relief rack your body, wiping your chest to clear it of the sweat that had gathered there.

San turns to see you looking at him with eyes glimmering with adoration and hope, and he doesn’t catch the way your heart leaps when your eyes follow the droplet of sweat that clings to his chin.

“I really can’t thank you enough.” You sigh, trying to gather your bearings. 

“I promise you, as easy a fix this was, I mean you could have done it yourself-“ San’s lips spread into a sly grin, and you’re already rolling your eyes.

“You literally insisted on helping me.” You turn around to walk away, but his arm reaches out to grab your wrist as he drags you back to his chest.

“I know- hey, I’m talking to you, don’t walk away from me, c’mere…” he stops you from leaving, and you're standing in front of him again, much closer this time. He looks down at you, and your words die in your throat; his hand on your wrist doesn’t leave, it only squeezes tighter. 

“Hi there.” San murmurs. “Listen to me.” You swallow quietly and nod slowly.

“I love helping you out. Love working for you, babydoll.” His thumb rubs gentle circles over the pulse in your wrist, and his soft voice sends shockwaves to your belly.

“It’s a privilege if anything, I want you to always come ask for my help. But I am expecting a thank you.” He raises an expectant eyebrow, and you force your voice to come out, albeit small.

“Thank you, Sannie.” You speak lowly, and you feel his hands squeeze your wrist only slightly. He inhales slowly and lowers his lips just shy of your earlobe.

“You're welcome, beautiful, anytime.” You stifle a whimper when you feel the way his warm breath travels over your ear, and suddenly, you want to rip your skin off because you feel like you’re burning from the inside out.

You needed to divert.

“You should change your shirt, you look a mess.” You clear your throat, but San wasn’t done having fun with you.

“What, you don’t like me all messy?” He smiles and drags his fingertips every so gently across your exposed collarbone, and your skin shivers beneath his touch. 

“You’re even messier than I am now, sweetheart. You’re soaked.”

You know he’s talking about your tank top, which was, in fact, soaked with sweat. But you both knew he knew it’s a lot more than just that.

You bite your inner cheek nervously, and your limbs twitch. San’s fingers trail over your collarbone, along your shoulder, down your inner arm until he’s intertwining his fingers with yours.

His other hand cups around the back of your neck, gently massaging the nape, and a small, satisfied moan slips from your lips. Your eyes fall shut, and San keeps his gaze on you, enamored with every expression you make.

“San.” You whisper, your eyes still closed.

“Yeah?” He purrs, continuing to massage the tight knot on your neck with purpose. He subtly pulls you closer by the grip on your neck, and you can feel his nose ever so gently brush yours. His breath fans over your lips, and you can smell his scent. The sweat, the warm, woodsy notes of his fading cologne. 

“It’s hot.” Your eyes flutter open, and your knees nearly give out on you when you see just how close he is to you. You can point out every freckle on his face, every discoloration of skin, and every pore. And his eyes are so intense that it makes your stomach fall.

Lidded eyes and low lashes, his lips just barely quirked up into the slightest of smiles. “I know, baby, I know.”

“How much longer until we can turn the AC back on?” You're inching closer to him as you speak, and your breaths come shallowly.

San's lips move away from yours, and he’s pressing them in featherlight kisses against your neck. “You’re shivering like you’re cold, sweetheart.” A kiss below your ear, and one in the crook of your neck.

“M not cold.” You murmur, and you do in fact shiver each time his soft lips make contact with your skin. 

“You hot, baby?” He coos against your ear, and your arms grab the thick straps of his tank top and pull him away from your ear, back to face you. You nod.

“San.” You whine, your eyebrows knit together in desperation. “Please.”

“I’m gonna make it worse, beautiful.” He pouts playfully, poorly masking the want laced in his words. “You want me to make it worse?”

You can’t help your honesty. “I want you to do whatever you want.” You pull him closer, and your lips are just thin skin brushing thin skin, your breaths mingling, and your noses bumping.

“Oh, you shouldn’t say that to me.” He groans against your lip, his eyes locked on your hazy eyes. “I don’t want to do very gentlemanly things.” The hand he had interlaced with yours slips away, and you feel it trail up your inner thigh, and he’s pressing against the thin fabric of your volleyball shorts.

You whimper against his skin, and San’s lip parts in mock surprise. “Knew you were soaked.” He sighs, and he finally gives you what you want.

A slow, tasting kiss, savoring every flip of your tongue and soft whine. Your mouth is warm and sweet against his, the faint taste of your lip gloss and your sweat dancing on his taste buds. His fingers slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, wasting no time.

You were so unbelievably slick, it was mind-baffling. San’s fingers immediately become soaked in your arousal, his eyes closed, and eyebrows knit in concentration as his fingertips slip all over your cunt.

When he pressed up against your clit you accidentally bit his tongue in surprise, and you ripped your mouth away from the kiss and pressed your forehead against his broad chest. Your breath comes heavy, and your hands slip away from his tank top straps and ball into fists against his pecs, your legs already beginning to shake.

San moves around so your back is pressed against the hallway wall, forcing the back of your head against the wall. “Uh uh.” He bites out, rubbing slow circles against your clit, your thighs squeeze around his wrist as the pleasure flows through your blood.

“At me.” His hand on your neck forced your head to crane upwards, and you locked eyes with him again and simply melted. His eyes are heavy and hot, looming over you as he plays with your cunt. “Here, baby, right here.”

You let a pathetic moan slip from your mouth when he trails his fingers down and slides one inside of you, thick and full against your warm walls. Your knees buckle, but San keeps you up by your neck.

“Don’t look away from me, babydoll.” His presence overwhelmed you, his body molded to yours, and his fingers knuckle deep inside of you, curling and pressing spots so deep it made you lightheaded.

Your eyes watered, and San bit his bottom lip, a smirk spreading across his face. “So fucking pretty, yes, you are, baby.” He curls his fingers deeper, and your mouth falls open. San takes the opportunity to kiss you nasty and deep, sliding his tongue over yours and groaning down your throat. “Yes, you are...” he purrs into your mouth, and your whole body feels like it’s on fire.

You were both overheated, but the broken AC had no contribution. You wanted your clothes off, you wanted to feel his skin on yours. You wanted San-

“You want me to fuck you, baby?” He growls into your mouth, slipping his fingers out of you to tease your clit, before they’re right back inside of you, stirring up your guts with deep, pressurized drags.

You nod breathlessly, giving him the sweetest little puppy dog eyes you didn’t even know you were making. San just had that effect on you; he awakened your instinct to beg.

His hand slides up and buries its fingers into your hair, gently pushing you away from his lips. His fingers slip out of your cunt, and you whine in protest, but then he’s pushing you to your knees.

You watch as he gradually grows taller the further you sink to your knees, and your hands grip his massive thighs through his jeans until you’re eye level with his bulge.

He cocks his head to the side, looking down at you like you were the sweetest thing. His fingers massage your scalp in slow circles, his other fingers sinking into his mouth as he slowly licks your slick off of them, all while never diverting his heated gaze from you.

Once clean, he wipes his saliva across his shiny chrome belt buckle, leaving a wet streak across the metal. Then he’s slowly unbuckling it, teasingly slow.

“I’ll consider this my thank you.” He says as he lets his belt fall open. You reach your hands up and unbutton his jeans, sliding down the zipper and letting your hands slip into his boxers.

You can feel him twitch as soon as your palm finds him, and as you pull him out, San’s breath hitches. Thick, heavy, and hot in your hand, you hold San’s cock, and you’re barely able to wrap your fingers around the length of him.

Pretty and pink, San runs his tongue over his lower lip when he catches the way your throat bobs as you take in the size of him. You raise your eyes to look at him as you stroke him languidly, and he's groaning under his breath.

His thumb hooks on his belt loop, his hand in your hair slipping from your hair and gripping himself at the base. “Tongue, baby.”

You obey, letting your tongue fall from your mouth. San lifts his cock and oh so gently slaps his pink tip against your tongue, drops of pre falling into your mouth. San can’t help the low giggle that rumbles from his chest at how willing you were for him.

“Relax for me, okay?” he whispers, and you grab either of his hips to hold yourself steady. “You gonna let me fuck that pretty mouth?”

“Yes, Sannie,” you whimper, and he slaps himself against your tongue a few more times before both of his hands wound through your hair. 

“Alright, sweet girl, breathe through your nose.” You relax your jaw and keep your eyes on his as he slides his cock past your lips, along your tongue, and into your mouth. You feel the thick vein against your tongue and the way he twitches when you hollow out your cheeks for him.

His grip in your hair tightens the further he glides into your mouth, and he comes to a stop just before his tip hits the back of your throat. Your eyes watered, and tears gathered on your lower lashes, and San was doing everything in his power to be a gentleman and not fuck your mouth to tears, but you were making it so hard.

Your tongue twitches against the underside of his length as he slowly slides out of your mouth, then thrusts back in in a muted, gentle rhythm.

He gnaws on his bottom lip, his flushed, sweaty skin giving him a glow that makes your thighs clench below you. His eyebrows are knit together, and his lips part in a quiet moan when he slips further down your throat. “Oh baby…” he sighs, rewarding you with a soft moan that makes your stomach do flips.

He pushes himself deeper into your mouth, and your nails dig into his thighs, but you’re taking it so well.

“Yeah… atta girl. So fucking precious,” he praised around hitched breaths and whiny groans. Drool slips down the corner of your mouth the further he pushes himself further down your throat. His scent, his taste, everything about him was overwhelming you to the point of painful arousal, and all you wanted to do was feel him everywhere.

You moan around his cock, and San’s grip on your scalp tightens, the vibrations of your sweet voice making it impossible to keep it together. “Make too much noise, and I’ll cum down your throat, sweetheart. Let's have manners, please.” He moans lowly as he pulls himself out of your mouth, your lips suctioning around his tip with a wet, dirty kiss.

You let your tongue fall out and drag it along the underside of him, and he shivers in bliss when you drag it up and gently tease his head.

San can’t take it any longer, and he’s lifting you by your hair and practically throwing you against the wall. He’s on his knees next, spreading your thighs and hiking one over his shoulder. He doesn’t even bother to take off your shorts or your panties, as he’s simply pulling the flimsy fabric to the side and cupping your dripping cunt with his mouth.

Warm and wet, his tongue dives between your folds, licking up, down, left, and right. Your hands bury themselves in his hair. His large, rough hands hold your thighs open for him as he bullies your pussy with his mouth, open kisses, and greedy licks. His lips wrap around your clit as he buries his face as deep as he can between your thighs like he can’t get enough. He’s groaning and cooing into your cunt, getting off on how wet he’s managed to make you just by being here. 

His tongue swirls around your clit, and you gasp aloud, your head falling back against the wall in desperation.You could see the blue that the popsicle he had earlier stained on his tongue.

Muffled and heavy, San’s voice travels through your cunt when he speaks. “Babydoll, look at me.” You force your head to crane back down and look at him.

His mouth between your thighs and his eyes stare up at you with a burning intensity that you can feel in your stomach.

“There she is, hi baby.” Keeping his eyes on yours, he teases your clit with suckling kisses, his fingers gently dragging through your slick folds as he watches your face fall in pleasure.

The sweat on his brow and your arousal on his lips, you feel like falling apart. “Keep looking at me while I eat this pussy. Please?” he whines as he begs, but the sly smile on his face is all telling as his fingers slip inside of you and curl up, his tongue laving flat over your puffy clit.

The hand on your thighs rubs gentle circles against the soft skin, all the while his tongue draws patterns on your clit, and his fingers work you inside out like he knows your body like the back of his hand.

“F-fuck… San…” you whine, tears threatening to spill from your eyes, his warm mouth almost too much for you.

“Don’t whine,” he groans, curling his fingers harder inside of you. “You’re not nearly wet enough, and I’m a big boy baby.” He smiles around your clit, his teeth nipping at it gently.

Your muscles tense, and you moan drunkenly at each press and prod of his thick fingers; each slip of his tongue has your brain fogging over.

“Need you to cum at least once before I fuck you, I might hurt you, beautiful.” All sweet sugary words, but the sinful grin and the precise way he works out your cunt make everything he says fall on deaf ears.

“So get nice and wet for me, soak yourself, so I don’t break you when I put you through this wall.” San’s fingers move faster, deeper, his lips staying attached to your clit as he sucked on it greedily, and your legs began to shake.

His promises make your orgasm fly towards you faster, and coupled with him suckling on your clit, he moans lowly around it, the vibrations setting your nerves on fire. 

“I feel you, you’re right there.” San’s fingers press against your G-spot with the perfect pressure, circling the pads of his fingers against that spongy spot with mind-melting purpose. “Keep your eyes on me and cum on my tongue, mkay?” 

Your breath shudders in your lungs, and your hips buck against his mouth, and then you’re shattering around his fingers. Your entire body shakes as he drags his fingers against your walls slowly, his tongue lapping at your clit to help you ride it out.

“There you go, that's it… let it go, baby.” You whine loudly, gripping his hair so tightly he growls in pain, but his fingers never cease their movement, his lips moving away from your clit and peppering kisses against the soft, sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Rock your hips, let it run its course… like that. Such a good listener.” Your hands eventually fall from his hair, your body twitching, his warm tongue dragging up your inner thigh and licking the sweat of your skin.

With one final kiss to your knee, he lifts himself from below you and backs you up against the wall, giving you no room to run. His forehead presses against yours, a hungry glint in his eyes as his hands cup the underside of your thighs and lift you against the wall, secure in his big arms. His mouth finds yours again, all heat and desperation on his lips as he kisses you into a fever.

“San, it's too hot, please…” You cry pathetically. “Take it off.” San groans and flattens his tongue against yours, drool slipping down your chin as he kisses you so deeply it makes you dizzy.

He’s holding you against the wall with just the force of his body alone, reaching down and pulling your shorts and panties off your legs. Your tank top is next, all but ripping it off your body. He reached back and pulled his own sweat-soaked top over his head, throwing it across the heated hallway.

His mouth dips down and takes your nipple in his mouth, swirling his thick tongue around it and sucking hungrily. You whimper, your hands flat against his back, your nails scratching pretty red patterns against his skin as the stimulation rocks through your nervous system. 

He kisses up your chest, along your neck until his mouth slots with yours once again with a sick kind of greed. “Need you so bad…” he groans against your lips, massaging your thighs as you feel him line his leaking tip up with your fluttering cunt. Hot and pulsing against you, you bite his soft bottom lip and look up at him, your eyes glazed over and begging for him.

He wraps his hands around the back of your neck, his forehead firm against yours. His dark eyes bore into yours like he’s trying to peer past them, and you’ve never felt so exposed.

You feel as he teases your entrance, just barely slipping the tip inside of you. You began to shy away, your eyes fluttering shut to escape his heated gaze. But San’s hands cup the back of your neck harder, fingers locking at your nape, brushing his lips over yours a little less gently this time.

“Stop running.” He purrs dangerously, and slowly he slides his cock inside of you. Each inch that breaches your walls, he stops when your eyes roll, and only continues filling you up when your eyes meet his once again. 

Your mouth falls open against his, he pushes further inside of you, and every pulsing inch of his length grazes your walls so perfectly. San winces and sinks his teeth into your bottom lip, the warmth of your insides thinning his string of composure.

“Taking it so fucking good, babydoll, such a needy pussy, she’s sucking me in.” His thumbs stroke your heated cheeks, and he catches the drool that slips down your chin, promptly sliding his thumb in your mouth.

“Keep your spit in your mouth, baby. We’re already messy enough, don’t you think?” When his hips press flush against yours, you sigh aloud, feeling so full your bones rattle in satisfaction.

San’s brow furrows, keeping his thumb in your mouth, he pulls his hips back slowly, dragging every thick inch of his dick against every nook and cranny of your insides, sliding back in with a low moan.

You whine around this thumb, his fervent eyes making you want to cry. You could not escape his gaze, his hands, his thick, hot cock splitting you open against your hallway wall. He rolls his hips into you, his fat tip nudging that spot deep inside that makes your legs clench around his hips. The hands on your neck hold your head steady and still so you can’t look away, and he’s easing into a rhythm.

Lazy and deep, he slides in cock in and out of you like he was trying to rock you to sleep, but the pressure only made your body tingle. Your fingernails rake up his back, and San winces, kissing the corner of your mouth, grinding his cock so sincerely into you that your moans come out in sad, desperate gasps.

“Yeah baby…” he coos against your skin, the resonant sounds of your slick cunt trying to suck him back in each time he glides out, sending your brain into overdrive. “Slow, deep strokes. Let you feel everything…”

His thumb presses down against your tongue, and your eyelids shake, doing your very best to keep your eyes open. “San..” you mumble around his thumb. San cranes his head upwards so he was looking down at you, his lids low and his mouth parted in continuous soft moans.

Every time he bottoms out, he's sure to grind into you, to really torture you, forcing you to feel every thick centimeter of him brushing every nerve inside of you. He eases into a meaner pace, slipping his thumb out of your mouth and dragging it down your bottom lip. His hands move to the front of your neck, his fingers cradling your jaw while his thumbs press against the sensitive soft spots on the sides of your throat.

He presses just hard enough to limit your airflow, and your head begins to buzz quietly. He drags his hips back slowly one last time before he sinks back in with renewed vigor, fucking you hard and deep against the wall.

Pounding your pussy with a passion that made your chest flutter, moaning weakly as he stared down at your bliss twisted face with nothing short of pure adoration. And maybe a bit of pity. He was kind of bullying you, but he wouldn’t say he was loving watching you struggle to take his cock.

Struggling to accommodate his change in pace, struggling to breathe around deep strokes and feeling so full it felt like you had no space to take in oxygen.

“Pretty little girl…” he bites out around a bassy whine, pressing his thumbs harder against your throat. “You feeling full, babydoll?”

You can’t even nod with the hold he has on your head, and you cry out when he targets a hard, sharp thrust against your sensitive gspot.

“I know baby....” he taunts you with his pouty voice, teasing you about your sensitivity. “But it feels so good doesn’t it?” San swallows your swollen lips in a consuming kiss, grinning when he feels your moans fall down his throat. “Doesn’t it?” he murmurs into your mouth.

“Y-yes! Fuck.. feels s-so good..” you cry against his lips and hes fucking you harder, driving his cock into you with a force that has your slaps of skin echoing down the dimly lit hallway.

“Yeah…” he laughs lowly, biting your tongue playfully. “No more running, you take it like you’re meant to sweetheart. God you’ve been driving me fucking crazy.”

His breath stutters when you clench around him, breaking the kiss and pressing his forehead against yours, directing his gaze to the nasty sight below. His thick cock rutting into you smoothly, you cream coating the length of him with each thrust, your cunt sucking him back in like it had a mind of its own.

This pulls a loud, deep moan from San, and you take a moment to attempt to catch your breath now that his attention was directed elsewhere. He slows down to really watch the way he slides in and out of your guts, mesmerized by the sight. He’ll pick up the pace again, transfixed over how your bodies connected, how your bodies seemed to crave each other.

The slick coating your inner thighs, the sweat trailing down the rolls in your stomach, the drops of wet that fell down the dips in his abs. He was addicted in the best way.

“Do you understand how crazy you make me feel (Name)?” He’s working his way back up to that deep punishing pace, gathering drool in his mouth before he’s spitting on his cock as it slips in and out of you, drunk off the feeling of your warmth around him.

He drags his eyes back up to yours and his gaze is feral, and you can’t help but whimper pathetically. Rolling his body into yours his pace grows sloppy, too lost in the pleasure, soft, heavy moans falling from his lips.

“Please, need you to cum again. Not gonna stop- fuck… not till you cum. Please, baby…” San begs lowly, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his warm tongue dragging across your skin, his warm pants of breath fanning over your ear.

He’s adjusting the angle of his hips, searching for that perfect angle to send you over the edge. Your nails dig harder into his back, and you nearly squeal when he hits that spot just right.

“Right there?” San groans, and he stays just like that, pounding against that sweet spot nice and rough, and blood pumps, and your brain melts as he fucks you against the wall with the sole intention of unravelling you.

“Mmhm, right there. C’mon babydoll, jus’ wanna be good to you. Jus’ wanna make you feel good, you turn me on so much. Fuck, it's insane.” He's rambling, your moans drowning out his low voice when he slots his lips with yours in a wet kiss.

You stutter over your breathless words, trying to tell him you were cumming, but he can feel you, he can feel you pulsing around him and gushing all over his cock.

“Fuck!” you whine, your thighs shaking around his hips as he fucks you through your orgasm, rocking his hips into you to drag that climax out of your body.

His hips slow to a heavy grind, your constant clenching making his sensitive cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” San whines, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Look at me, please, baby.” He whispers against your lips, his hands holding your face like you were everything. “Look at me while I fill you up.”

You bite your bottom lip and whimper softly, giving him those sweet little needy eyes. “Wan you to cum in me Sannie…” you whine, your breath fanning over his lips. “Please, wanna feel it spilling out of me.”

San’s eyes roll, his breath laboured and breaking. He presses his lips to yours, sinking his cock deep into you one more time before he’s cumming, filling you up with his seed. He groans into your mouth, his deep noises cracking as he rolls his hips into you, fucking your pussy full of him, riding his orgasm out with your spent body.

“Fuckkk me…” San runs his tongue over yours, his breathing coming to something calm as his high finishes washing over him.

As soon as you catch your breaths, you glance up at him expectantly. “You think we could turn the AC on now?”

San raises an eyebrow and laughs out loud. “You still hot, sweetheart?” You smile and half roll your eyes.

“Well, I’m certainly not cold, San. I think we got a little distracted.” He smiles so softly it makes your heart go fuzzy, and he's kissing you tenderly and slowly. You giggle against his lips when his hands gently caress your sides, helping you down off the wall and onto your feet.

You stumble a little bit, but he catches you, being sure to make sure you don’t crumble to the floor. “Well, let’s see then.” 

He reaches next to him and slides open the closet door, and lo and behold, the AC has defrosted. He leads you over to the thermostat, and with a flip of the switch, you can hear the familiar whirring of your functional HVAC system, and you nearly cry tears of joy.

“Well would you look at that, good as new.” San smiles, his little dimples on show as he massages your shoulder. “It’ll take a minute for the air to cool but you should be good for now.”

You pat his chest and wipe the side of your neck. “Next time it frosts over I’m just coming to your place, no way I’m sitting in the heat like that again.”

San lowers his lips to your neck and kisses it softly with a smile, tickling you. “C’mon, it wasn’t that bad now was it?” He murmurs, his hands hooking at your hips and pulling you closer.

You barely resist his soft touches before you’re shimmying away. “You’re all sweaty San, you need a cold shower, bad.”

He clicks his tongue as he follows you to your bathroom. “Hey, you literally are too, if not more than me.” With a click of your bathroom door, you pull him inside and run the cold water, sighing softly as he kisses you stupid against your vanity mirror.

Your free spirit of a cat is perched on the windowsill of your neighbor’s apartment, meowing softly at San’s cat, who’s sprawled on the floor in the comfort of the working AC in his home.

She bounds down onto the floor and nuzzles up against the male cat, purring softly. 

One problem after another is solved. Your leaking fridge, your cracking floorboards, and now your AC. Next on the list is probably trying to find out how your cat keeps breaking and entering your neighbor’s house.

But you’re sure he won’t mind, you’ll be seeing a lot more of each other after all. 

Christopher

Chan wasted is clingy, gentle, and devastatingly flirty. The moment he sees you, he smiles so wide his dimples practically jump out.

“There she is… the love of my life. My girl.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, head dropping onto your shoulder like he’s been waiting all night for this.

“I missed you. Like… painfully missed you. My heart hurts when you’re not near.”

His words slur slightly and he cups your cheeks with both warm hands, forehead pressed to yours.

“You have no idea how obsessed I am with you, do you?” He kisses the corner of your mouth, slow, reverent, like he’s afraid to rush it. “You drive me insane just by existing.”

He starts rambling drunkenly: “If you wanted my entire bank account right now, I’d hand it over. My soul? Yours. My last slice of cheesecake? Also yours. I’m fully whipped and I don’t even care.”

His hands slide to your hips, guiding you closer slowly. “Can I kiss you properly? Please?”

When you nod, he kisses your neck, slow and deep, lips lingering like he’s memorizing every inch.

“This is my favorite place in the universe,” he whispers against your skin. “Right here. With you.”

He pulls back just enough to stare at you, eyes glassy but incredibly soft. “I’m yours. Every piece of me. I don’t want anything else.”

Then he dramatically lays his head in your lap: “If anyone tries to take me home they can fight me. I belong to you. Always.”

He falls asleep in your arms, smiling, fingers intertwined with yours.

Minho

Minho drunk is the definition of shy menace with zero filter. He walks toward you, eyes shining, lips already tugging into a tiny smile.

“You look unreal tonight. It’s kind of illegal actually. You should be arrested.”

He gently tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips tracing your jaw.

“I always pretend to be cool, but you make my heart go stupid. Like-- actually malfunction.”

He laughs breathlessly and leans closer until his nose brushes yours.

“You know what’s annoying? How every time you smile, I feel it in my knees. It’s rude.” You poke fun at him and he gasps dramatically.

“Oh wow. Bullying the drunk man. That’s low.” Then he grabs your waist gently and whispers: “Kiss me before I start crying. I’m serious.”

He kisses down your collarbone, slow, hot, lingering with soft sighs. “If heaven exists, it’s right here. You taste like magic.”

You say he’s drunk and he shakes his head stubbornly. “Drunk, yes. Lying? Never. I’m yours. Completely. Take responsibility.”

He presses kisses across your shoulder, then up your throat. “I could do this forever. You’re my home.”

When he pulls back his eyes are glossy but soft as silk. “I love you. Not even embarrassed. You own me.”

Falls asleep holding your hand against his cheek like a cat.

Changbin

Changbin drunk turns into a bold, playful, dangerously charming menace with a heart of gold. He spots you across the room and just stares--like he’s seeing sunlight after years underground.

“Oh thank God you’re here,” he groans dramatically, wrapping his arms around you instantly. “I was two seconds away from committing emotional damage without you.”

He picks you up without warning, spinning you slightly. “You’re so cute I actually want to scream. How do you exist like this? It’s illegal.”

His hands slide to your waist gently, thumbs rubbing circles. “Do you know how crazy you make me? I look at you and suddenly I understand every bad decision ever made in history.”

You tease him and he bites his lip, eyes darkening. “Oh you think you’re funny? Keep going, I dare you.”

Then he leans forward, kneeling slightly so his face is level with your stomach. He presses slow, hot kisses across your hips, stomach, just above the waistband of your pants, his breath warm and shaky.

“This right here…” he murmurs against your skin, “is my favorite place to be.”

He looks up at you through his lashes, grin wicked but soft. “You own me completely. I would literally bark if you asked me. Try me.”

He peppers more kisses across your hips, hands squeezing gently. “If you let me, I’ll cover every inch of you in kisses. Slowly. Carefully. Until you forget how to breathe.”

He stands, pulling you to his chest. “I love you. Like-- aggressively. It’s embarrassing.”

Falls asleep with his head on your stomach, arms wrapped around your waist like a koala.

Hyunjin

Hyunjin drunk is all softness wrapped in sinful beauty. His cheeks flushed pink, eyes shiny like stars drowning in honey. The second he spots you, he walks straight to you--slow, intentional, like he’s approaching an altar.

“There you are…” he breathes, voice thick. “My favorite person in the entire universe.”

He takes your hand carefully, like it’s the most delicate thing he has ever touched, lifting it to his lips. He kisses the back of your hand, then your wrist, slow and reverent, eyes never leaving yours.

“You have no idea how stupidly in love with you I am, do you?” He laughs softly, a little embarrassed, brushing his thumb over your skin. “I try to be cool, but then you smile and I just-- I lose every brain cell I ever had.”

You tease him gently and he gasps, dramatically clutching his chest. “Are you trying to kill me? Because it’s working. I’m going to die. On this floor. Right now.”

Then he steps closer, so close his breath warms your lips. “Can I kiss you? I need you to say yes. Please.”

When you nod, he kisses your wrist again, slower, letting his lips linger, tracing up your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, then finally your jaw. Every kiss is dragged out, trembling, like he’s memorizing each second.

“You make everything feel like art,” he whispers against your skin. “Like I’m alive for the first time.”

His hands cup your face gently, fingers sliding into your hair. “You’re the only person I want. You could ask me for the moon and I’d find a way to pull it down for you.”

Then he rests his forehead against yours, voice barely above a whisper: “I’m yours. I hope you know that. I hope you never forget it.”

He kisses your knuckles again before burying his face in your neck. “If I fall asleep like this, don’t move. I fit perfectly here.”

He ends up asleep holding your hand to his chest like a vow.

Jisung

Jisung drunk is adorable chaos with unexpected fire. He rushes into you like a tornado of limbs and warmth.

“Y/N!! Oh my god, hi-- I missed you so much, you have no idea.” He practically collapses into your arms, giggling.

“You’re so pretty I actually might die. Like, medically dead. Bury me right now.” He cups your face with shaking hands and squishes your cheeks. “Look at you. The prettiest human on the planet. It’s unfair.”

You roll your eyes and he gasps dramatically. “Did you just roll your eyes at me? Rude. I’ll cry. Right here. Don’t test me.”

Then, suddenly shy, he leans forward and kisses your cheek, soft and lingering. “Your skin is so soft what the hell.”

His hands slide around your neck, pulling you closer. “Can I kiss right here?” he whispers, breath hot against your throat.

Before you answer, he leaves slow, delicate kisses along your neck, giggling between every one. “You smell like heaven. If heaven was illegal and extremely distracting.”

Then he suddenly gets flustered, hiding his face in your shoulder. “I’m yours. Fully. If you want me. I’ll sign a contract. I’ll tattoo your name on my forehead-- maybe not forehead-- maybe like… somewhere sexy.”

You say his name and he melts. “Say it again. Please. I swear I’ll explode.”

He kisses your neck again, slower, more serious this time. “I love you. I love you so much it scares me.”

Falls asleep hugging you so tight you’re basically one creature.

Felix

Felix drunk is soft-spoken danger wrapped in sunlight. He walks toward you with the shyest, sweetest smile -- but his eyes are dark with heat.

“Hi angel…” he whispers, voice low and warm. “You look beautiful tonight. Actually-- you look beautiful always.”

He cups your face gently, thumbs brushing your cheeks. “You know you make my heart feel like it’s glowing? I swear I can feel it in my fingertips.”

He leans in and presses a soft kiss to your temple. “This is my favorite place. Right here.”

Then his voice drops an octave. “Can I show you something?” He kneels slowly in front of you, hands on your thighs.

He places the slowest, warmest kiss to your inner thigh, just above the knee, breath trembling. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Another kiss, higher this time, lips lingering. “I’m yours. Completely. Use me however you want.”

He looks up through his lashes, freckles glowing under soft lights. “I would follow you anywhere. Just say the word.”

He presses another kiss, softer, whispered: “I love you. Not drunk love. Real love.”

Then he stands and hugs you tight, face buried in your neck. “Don’t let go. I’m not done loving you yet.”

Falls asleep with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair.

Seungmin

Seungmin drunk is shy affection in its purest form with surprising spice underneath. He approaches you slowly, hands tucked in his pockets, cheeks pink.

“Hi,” he murmurs, smiling softly. “You look… wow. Like really wow.”

He rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “I practiced compliments in the bathroom mirror and now they’re all gone. You make my brain crash.”

You tease him gently and he rolls his eyes, trying to hide a smile. “If you keep doing that, I’m gonna end up confessing every secret I ever had.”

Then he steps closer, voice quiet. “Can I touch you?”

When you nod, he places his hands at your waist lightly, thumbs brushing small circles. He leans in, breath warm, and kisses the back of your neck, slow and delicate.

His voice shakes. “This is my favorite spot. It feels like coming home.”

He keeps kissing up the side of your neck to just behind your ear -- soft, slow, devastating. “You smell like comfort and danger at the same time.”

He laughs breathlessly. “I pretend to be all cold and sarcastic, but you ruin me. Completely. I’d cook for you forever if it means I get to be yours.”

He hides his face in your shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m yours. Fully. If you want me. I’ll wait forever.”

Falls asleep wrapped around you tightly, breath warm against your neck.

Jeongin

Jeongin drunk gets shockingly confident but unbelievably soft. He walks up to you, eyes bright, smile wide.

“Hey…” he says, voice low. “You look amazing tonight.”

He swallows hard, gathering courage like a dramatic movie moment. “Can I say something? You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. And I don’t just mean right now. I mean always.”

You tease him and his ears turn red. “Don’t-- don’t do that. I’ll combust.”

Then he unexpectedly places his hand on your jaw, gentle but steady. “Look at me.”

His eyes hold yours and he leans in slowly, kissing along your jawline, slow and warm and careful, inch by inch.

“This is my favorite place to kiss,” he murmurs. “You always sigh so pretty.”

He presses another kiss just under your ear, breath shaky. “You make me feel brave. Like I could do anything if you asked.”

Then he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I know I’m younger. But I love you like -- like I’d give you every good thing I have.”

He hugs you tightly, voice cracking a little. “I’m yours. Fully. And I’m happy about it. I hope you are too.”

Falls asleep holding your pinky like a promise.

Chan had laughed it off politely, paid, and brought it to the studio himself. He didn’t notice how the lights dimmed the moment he hung it on the wall, right where the surface faced his work. He didn’t notice how the surface rippled, like a held breath, when he stepped back.

You have arrived to greet him with a nice dinner. Entering the studio, you felt a sudden gust of non-existent wind, but ignored it, thinking it was just another kind of AC stuff.

“Hey, love,” you said, smiling at him.

“You came,” he smiled, hugging you.

“I did. And you know what, I will be feeding you tonight,” you joked, sitting down on his lap, letting his arms ghost your waist tightly, head resting on your shoulder while you fed him. “You changed your AC?”

“That’s some random question…” Chan looked at you.

“When I entered, there was a sudden wind gust.”

“Strange. AC has been turned off for some time already.”

Both wondered what brought that up, but didn’t mention it again while enjoying your evening dinner date.

Every other night, when you knew he was overworking again, you would come, greet him, give him delicious meals, and snacks. Really, anything you could get your hands on, or make.  And every time you were there, you could feel a strange sensation of being watched. Not watched but also admired. It was strange. But knowing how Chan watched you every time you came, you didn’t think about it much.

Weeks passed, and he was working himself to death to follow piling deadlines. And it began on a night when the exhaustion was too heavy to fight. You couldn’t come today, so you only sent in your prepared snacks through the manager. It wasn’t helping, though.

Chan sat slumped at his desk, hoodie pushed back, hair messy from running his hands through it one too many times. Music played softly, but even that felt distant. His notebook lay open with unfinished lines. The cursor blinked at him like an accusation.

He rubbed his eyes. “I can’t do this tonight…” he felt tears filling up.

Something in the mirror stirred. A flicker, not of light, but of attention. Chan lifted his gaze, drawn without realizing it. The mirror’s surface looked deeper somehow, less like glass and more like water. And the version of himself staring back… wasn’t quite right. The reflection smiled too softly, as if hiding something beneath it. And a sudden soft, comforting voice came out of the speakers.

“You’re tired,” it whispered.

 “What-?” Chan jumped up, heart thudding.

“You’re exhausted, Chan.”

The voice didn’t echo. It slid into the room through the speakers, gentle and smooth. Captivating.

“You give and give until there is nothing left. You’re drowning in expectations.”

Chans' pulse quickened. He should have moved, left the room, run from whoever was there, but his body couldn’t move. It was frozen, eyes staring at the strange reflection before him. Instead, he leaned closer, trying to find something in that distorted reflection.

“I must be dreaming,” he murmured, half to himself.

 “Don’t you want rest?” The reflection tilted its head.

His throat tightened hearing that forbidden word ‘rest’. Something inside him cracked, the part that had held everything together for too long. That even the most beloved person couldn’t glue together. The tiredness was controlling him too hard.

“Yes,” he whispered before he could stop himself. “I just… need a break.”

The reflection raised a hand, for a simple handshake, the hand seeming to push through the surface of the mirror. Chan’s hand didn’t move; it just stared at the supernatural behaviour of the hard surface, which seemed to shiver like water.

“You deserve peace,” the voice softened into a song-like note, almost compassionate.

“I can give it to you.”

 “How?” Chan swallowed, trembling, the reflections offered, it becoming harder to say no to.

“Let me take care of things,” the reflection offered. “No more pressure from the company, members, deadlines. No more guilt for missing a date or two with your girlfriend. No more pain from sleepless nights. I’ll handle the world for you. You can take a calm, quiet rest.”

Something cold slid behind those words, but Chan was too tired to feel it, too tired not to take this once-in-a-lifetime offer. He stepped closer, almost touching the surface of the extended water-like hand. Chan was getting too close.

“Just rest, Chan,” the reflection coaxed. “Let me in.”

Chan’s eyes were tired, half open, as he slowly, carefully reached his hand out to give a try and … touch. Nothing more. Not agreeing with the surface verbally, just a small touch. It won’t hurt, right?

The mirror’s surface rippled once… twice…

And the same water-like hand shot out, grabbing Chan’s wrist. It was too sudden. Chan inhaled sharply, too shocked to scream. The glass liquefied, pulling him forward. His fingers slipped against the surface, scraping desperately on the wall, up to the mirror's frame.

“No-wait-! I didn’t agree-”

But the rest of the studio blurred, distorted, swallowed by light and darkness mixing together like ink. The last thing he saw before he was dragged inside was the reflection stepping out. Wearing his face, breathing with his lungs, and having his smile.

“Sleep,” the demon whispered as it settled into his body: moving his fingers around, moving his arms and body; really enjoying the whole body like a perfect prize for his hard work to get Chan to the mirror. “You’ve worked hard enough, Chan.”

Inside the mirror, Chan slammed against the inside of the glass, breathless, disoriented, trying to push himself through the surface, back to where he was, but his palms met a cold surface; not solid, not liquid, something in between. He could see the studio beyond, his studio, but muted as though underwater.

The demon turned to look into the mirror, smirking at how silenced he was finally. The muted Chan’s scream, turning it into nothing more than a fogged mark on the glass. It made this fake Chan smile, feeling pleasure in it.