#seungri

You hummed softly, shifting your focus back to the boys on the water, forcing yourself to laugh as Seunghyun tumbled into the waves again. The moment passed, or at least, you convinced yourself it had. You needed to get away, to shake off the thoughts stirring in your head.

Rising from your chair, you dusted the sand off your legs. “I’m heading back to get ready.”

Seungri mumbled something in response, but you weren’t really listening anymore. The walk across the beach felt longer than usual, the sun heavy against your skin. As you reached your villa, you dug through your bag for your key card, the mundane task distracting enough—until a voice made you jump.

“Hi, Y/n.”

Your breath hitched. You turned sharply, heart slamming against your ribs.

Jiyong.

He sat on the bottom step of your villa entrance, his elbows resting on his knees, his head tilted up slightly as he looked at you. His board shorts hung low on his hips, an old t-shirt clinging to him. His shoes were nowhere in sight, his dark hair a disheveled mess, and his eyes—heavy, unreadable, full of something that made your throat go dry.

“Jiyong, what the fuck!” you yelped, pressing a hand to your chest.

A lazy smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Long night?” you asked, folding your arms, trying to play it cool.

He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “Something like that…” His voice was low, rough, tinged with something you couldn’t quite name. He pushed himself up to stand, swaying slightly, and that’s when you caught it—the faint scent of tequila still lingering on his breath.

“You look like shit,” you muttered, unable to stop yourself.

He let out a soft chuckle, but it wasn’t amused. More like tired. Worn down. And yet, the way he was looking at you sent a shiver through your spine.

"Where's Seunghyun?" he asked suddenly.

You hesitated. "Out on the boat. Why?"

"Just need to talk to him," he said, voice thick and slurred.

“About what, Jiyong?”

A flicker of something crossed his face—mischief, darkness. The way he looked at you now, slow and calculated, sent your nerves into overdrive.

His lips curved slightly. “Guy stuff.” His tone was teasing, baiting.

Your jaw clenched. Your breath hitched.

“You know…” He took a slow step forward. “You left the door open last night.” His voice was quiet, but it wrapped around you like a noose. “Did you forget how loud you get, Y/n?”

Your stomach twisted.

He was toying with you. Poking at the raw edges of something you had tried to bury.

“I almost forgot about all those pretty little noises you make.” His voice dipped lower, thick with something dangerous. “It’s been so long…”

He was close now—too close. You could smell the alcohol, the remnants of cigarettes on his skin. And worse, you could feel the pull of him, that same magnetic force that had always been your undoing.

His fingers brushed against yours, light, barely there, but enough to send your pulse skyrocketing.

“Tell me something…” His breath ghosted over your skin as his dark eyes flicked down to your lips. “Who fucks you better?”

The air between you snapped. Without thinking, your palm met his cheek with a sharp crack.

Jiyong barely flinched, only exhaling as he reached up to rub his jaw. If anything, he looked more awake now, more present. He met your gaze, his smirk gone, something raw lingering in his expression.

You swallowed, your chest rising and falling with the weight of the moment. “Go sober up,” you said, voice firm, despite the way your fingers trembled.

Then you turned, marched up the steps, and slammed the door behind you, shutting him out—shutting out the past you thought you had left behind.

Only, your heart was still pounding. And Jiyong was still out there, watching.

Waiting.

Like he always did.

You locked the door with trembling fingers, the soft click echoing through the quiet villa like a gunshot. Your back hit the wood and you slid down, legs giving out beneath you as your body crumpled to the floor. The tears came fast, hot and uncontrollable, burning a trail down your cheeks as you pressed a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs.

You hated this.

Hated what Jiyong had done to you. Hated the version of yourself who let it happen. Hated that even now, a part of you still felt tangled up in him—still aching in a way that wasn’t fair to Seunghyun. You were spiraling, suffocating in the truth you buried so deep, it throbbed like a phantom pain every time you looked into your boyfriend’s kind eyes.

Who did you think you were? Dating someone like Seunghyun—sweet, steady, loving—after spending months wrapped up in his best friend’s arms, panting his name like it meant something. After falling pregnant with Jiyong’s child… and letting Seunghyun hold you through every excruciating second of the aftermath. The abortion. The nights you cried yourself sick while he rubbed your back and whispered that everything was going to be okay.

He never knew. Not really. Not whose it had been.

And you… you let him believe the lie. Let him carry the weight of a decision that hadn’t even been his to make.

Did you really think you could pull this off? That you could love Seunghyun the way he deserved and somehow never let the past claw its way back into the present?

The thought alone made your lungs constrict.

Your chest grew tight, breath catching as the familiar ache of anxiety ripped through you. Shallow, uneven gasps escaped your throat as your head spun, and you stumbled toward the bathroom. You barely got the door locked before collapsing to your knees again and reaching for the faucet. Cold. You needed cold.

The shower hissed to life as you stepped under the icy spray, clothes still clinging to your body. The shock of the water stole your breath at first, but then slowly—finally—it grounded you. It numbed the shame, the fear, the weight of everything pressing down on your soul.

“Baby?”

You flinched, heart stuttering in your chest at the knock on the door. You hadn’t heard the front door open. Had it been minutes? An hour?

“Are you okay?” Seunghyun’s voice was soft, laced with concern.

You froze. The last person you wanted to face right now was him.

“Uhm… y-yeah! Just a sec!” you shouted, killing the water and fumbling for a towel.

“I saw Jiyong outside,” he continued. “He said you looked upset.”

Of course he did. Jiyong loved his little games. Loved pulling at your strings and watching you unravel. He knew exactly how to get under your skin—when to push, and when to act like he hadn’t done anything at all.

You opened the door slowly, towel wrapped tightly around you, and looked up at Seunghyun. His brows were furrowed, his gaze scanning your face with worried eyes.

Your eyes were red, swollen. Your lips trembled. But at the sight of him—only him—your breathing steadied. Not because the pain vanished. But because somehow, just being in his presence made you feel like you were allowed to survive it.

“Jagi, what’s wrong?” he asked gently, stepping forward and pulling you into his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you like you might disappear. “What happened?”

“I-I just had a panic attack,” you whispered, voice barely audible.

It wasn’t a lie. You’d had several since the abortion. But this one… this one had been ignited by guilt. Guilt laced with fear that maybe—just maybe—Jiyong would eventually tell him everything. That your world would shatter in an instant.

“Awh, baby… I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” His fingers found your wet hair, gently combing through the tangles with such care that it only made the ache worse. “How can I help?”

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to scream at him for being so goddamn good to you. For loving you without question. For making you feel safe when you knew deep down you didn’t deserve him. Not after everything.

You wanted to confess right then and there—that you weren’t worth it. That you were a traitor. A liar. A coward.

But instead, you leaned into him. Because despite it all, you needed him. Desperately.

“I just want to spend the day with you,” you muttered. “I don’t want everyone seeing me like this. I can’t…”

That was all it took.

Seunghyun didn’t hesitate. He grabbed his phone, sent a quick message to the group chat canceling the day’s plans, then turned it off without waiting for replies. You watched him do it, your heart aching as he tucked it away and wrapped his arms back around you.

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks,” he said simply. “My girl comes first. Always.”

Your throat tightened. “Thank you,” you whispered, voice cracking. “I’m sorry… I don’t want to ruin your vacation.”

“Ruin my vacation?” he repeated with a snort, nudging your nose with his. “I’m in a private villa on the beach with my beautiful girlfriend. It couldn’t possibly be ruined.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. Because you could think of exactly one way it could all fall apart.

And he was outside, probably still smirking to himself like he hadn’t just shattered you with a few well-placed words.

You just had to make sure Seunghyun never found out.

Because if he did… you weren’t sure you’d survive losing him.

-

You spent the rest of the day tangled up in the sheets with Seunghyun, the two of you wrapped in a cocoon of lazy indulgence. Between stolen kisses over trays of room service, mindless movies playing in the background, and the kind of slow, unhurried sex that made your chest ache with tenderness, it was almost easy to forget the chaos that lived just outside the villa. By the time the sun dipped beneath the horizon, exhaustion crept into your bones like a lullaby.

You were on the edge of sleep, eyelids fluttering shut, your face buried against Seunghyun’s warm chest, when a sharp knock tore through the quiet atmosphere. You jolted, breath hitching as your heart kicked into gear.

“Who the fuck…” Seunghyun groaned, voice rough with sleep as he rubbed at his eyes. He tossed the blanket off and padded toward the door, hair tousled and jaw set in annoyance.

You leaned up slightly, peeking over the comforter, a mixture of curiosity and irritation blooming in your chest. When the door creaked open, the soft glow from outside revealed Jiyong and Seungri — clearly drunk, leaning into one another like they couldn’t hold themselves upright.

“Hyung! Come to the club with us!” Seungri slurred, his voice high-pitched and whiny as he threw an arm lazily over Jiyong’s shoulder. They were swaying slightly, eyes glassy with whatever cocktail they’d downed.

Seunghyun scoffed, a smirk curling at his lips. “The club? You two look like you need a babysitter and a damn nap.”

“Ahhh, come on! Just for a bit!” Jiyong said, his tone trying too hard to be lighthearted, like he wasn’t already unraveling at the seams.

“Me and Y/n were just about to go to bed,” Seunghyun replied, glancing back toward you with a sleepy grin. And just like that — you saw it. Jiyong’s face faltered. The second your name left Seunghyun’s lips, Jiyong’s smirk died, his expression flickering with something heavy, something sharp.

“Maybe another night,” Seunghyun added, trying to nudge the door closed.

“Ohhh, Hyung’s trying to get it in!” Seungri cackled, grabbing Jiyong by the arm and dragging him away. “Come on, there’s tons of girls at the club! Pussy for days, bro!”

“Have fun,” Seunghyun muttered, slamming the door shut with a finality that shook the frame. “Idiots.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What did they want?” you asked, your voice light, masking the twist in your stomach.

“Club,” he said, already crawling back into bed.

You hummed like it meant nothing. “Hope I’m not keeping you.”

“Don’t be silly. Why would I want to be surrounded by drunk assholes and loud music when I could fall asleep with my beautiful girlfriend beside me, listening to the sound of the ocean?”

That made you smile, despite yourself. You kissed him softly, a brief press of lips before curling against him. But the warmth in your chest didn’t chase away the cold sinking in your gut.

-

The next few days passed with forced normalcy. You went on hikes, spent long afternoons out on the boat, laughed over shared meals at fancy restaurants — but it was all undercut by a steady unraveling. Jiyong was drifting. You could see it in the way he staggered into breakfast smelling like regret and liquor, in the way Seungri followed him everywhere like a shadow with no mind of its own.

Even the others noticed. Daesung, Youngbae, Seunghyun — they all tried, cornering the two of them with quiet concern, but they got waved off like bothersome flies. Their managers gave it a shot too, stern words and sharp glances, but Jiyong was having none of it. The rockstar was in full self-destruct mode. Party or die.

One night, you sat beside Seunghyun at the bonfire, his arm draped over your shoulder, the fire warming your skin while Youngbae animatedly told some story. But your eyes weren’t on him — they were drawn to the other end of the beach where Jiyong was stumbling, dragging some girl you didn’t recognize back to his villa. Again.

You rolled your eyes, heart clenching. That same bitter, aching feeling crawled up your throat. Jealousy? No. Disgust? Maybe. But deeper than that — hurt. And guilt. And something you didn’t want to name.

“Hey,” you whispered to Seunghyun. “I’m getting tired. Think I’ll head back to the villa. You finish your beer.”

He blinked, looked at you like he was trying to read your face. “You sure, baby?”

You nodded, forcing a teasing smile. “Yeah. Have some guy time.”

He kissed you gently, his lips tasting of beer and affection. “See you soon.”

-

The villa felt colder without him. You tore through your skincare routine in silence, movements sharp, angry. You slipped into your pajamas, climbed into bed, scrolled mindlessly through Netflix — but you couldn’t focus. Because from the window, you could see the light still on in Jiyong’s villa. You didn’t want to care. You shouldn’t care.

Your foot tapped restlessly under the covers. You stared out at that damn villa.

“Goddammit,” you hissed, flinging the covers off and storming to the door.

You slipped on your sandals, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you took the long way around, skirting the beach to stay out of sight from the others. The humid night air clung to your skin, your black tank top and plaid pajama shorts doing little to hide the tremble in your body.

You didn’t knock. You threw the door open like you belonged there and stormed inside. One door was open — Seungri’s. Empty. But from behind the closed bedroom door, you heard it: the unmistakable whimpers and moans.

Your jaw clenched. You shoved the door open and barged in.

“What the fuck!” the girl shrieked, bent over on Jiyong’s bed.

Jiyong froze, positioned behind her, eyes going wide as he saw you standing there.

“Y/n—what the—”

“What’s your issue, Jiyong?!” you snapped, storming forward like the half-naked girl between you didn’t even exist.

He scrambled to pull out, tripping over himself to find his sweats.

“Ji—” the girl started, reaching for him.

“Piss off!” he barked, not even sparing her a glance as he locked eyes with you.

“You bitch!” she spat, grabbing her clothes. You just stared at the door until it slammed shut behind her.

Jiyong lit a cigarette with shaking hands, exhaling slowly. “You gonna tell me why you just cockblocked me, princess?” he asked, voice low, dangerous.

“Why are you acting like this?” you demanded.

“Like what?”

“Like a complete asshole. Drinking yourself stupid, fucking everything with a pulse, pushing everyone away—”

He scoffed, bitter. “Right. So you get to shack up with my best friend, but I’m not allowed to let loose?”

“It’s not about that!” Your voice cracked. “It’s about the fact that you’re spiraling and everyone sees it! Seunghyun is worried about you!”

He laughed. Cold. Empty. “Worried, huh? Or is he just trying to clean up my mess again?” He stepped closer. “So why are you here, Y/n? Jealous? Mad that I was fucking some other girl?”

You backed up, your throat tightening as he stepped toward you.

“Like when I heard Seunghyun making you beg the other night?” Another step. “Do you think this is easy for me? Watching you be his? Pretending I don’t care?”

Your voice was barely a whisper. “Ji… I thought you hated me.”

“Hated you?” He dragged a hand through his hair. “Y/n, I fucking love you.”

The words shattered you.

“I—” you started, breath catching.

“Yeah, maybe if I was a nice guy like him, you would’ve noticed. But I don’t know how to be soft, Y/n. I don’t know how to not ruin everything I touch.” He slammed his palm against his temple. “I’m fucked in the head.”

Tears burned your eyes before you could stop them. You surged forward, grabbing his face and pulling him into a kiss that stole the air from your lungs.

His hands gripped your thighs, lifting you onto him as his lips devoured yours. The bed was a blur. His hands, his mouth — all of it was fire. Familiar, hungry, wrong. But it felt so fucking good.

“I missed you,” he breathed, nipping at that sweet spot on your neck.

Then it hit you. 

“Shit.” You pushed him off. “Shit, shit, shit.”

He stumbled back, eyes wide, guilt already blooming in his chest. What the fuck was he doing? You were his best friends girl. 

“You should go,” he said quietly, eyes glued to the floor.

You didn’t respond. You just ran.

-

You made it back before Seunghyun. Barely. You curled under the covers, heart in your throat, forcing yourself to breathe evenly as you heard his footsteps approaching.

The door opened. He stumbled in, smelling like the bonfire and too many beers. He stripped lazily and climbed in beside you, arms snaking around your waist.

“Mmm… love you so much, baby,” he mumbled, already half asleep.

You bit down on your lip, choking on a sob as hot tears slid down your cheeks.

He didn’t fucking deserve this.

© loveesiren 2025 - do not copy, translate, transfer, or repost my work without my permission. if you find my work on sites other than through links i've provided, please notify me.

Click here to be added to the taglist -> Taglist