i’m fallin’ deep in you

It was pretty clear that you had no interest in him. You were too busy gushing to Jongho’s older sister about boys from your university, none of them being anything remotely similar to Jongho. You liked boys who were older, much older, and stronger and bigger than you too. You liked them smart and outgoing. Jongho didn’t see himself as any of those things. When he first realized he was crushing hard on you back in his freshman year of high school, Jongho was still small and meek, a lanky boy with big eyes and a heart that beat for the prettiest girl in school. He still vividly remembers the first time he popped a boner because of you. He was truly a lost cause from the beginning. But he was never brave enough to act upon any of his feelings. He thought that just getting to be your friend for now was good enough. everyone wanted to be friends with you anyway. Jongho guesses that having his sister be your best friend came to his advantage in a way. But as the years passed, and things started to change, the one thing that remained unmoving was how you made Jongho feel. What used to be an innocent little crush that would make him swoon became something that started to intoxicate him. Jongho’s mind had long since strayed from innocent thoughts of getting to hold your hand and ask you out on cute dates where he’d kiss you on the cheek and tell you how beautiful you are. Jongho was not a little boy anymore. His high school days are over. He’s grown a good few inches since then. His body is strong, with broad shoulders and thick thighs that would make any girl swoon. His cheeks have lost their softness, jaw chiseled and more defined now instead. His speech is no longer quiet and slurred. His voice is deep and his words are much more calculated. His thoughts changed drastically too. He looks at you with hunger behind his eyes.

The hands he had once dreamed of intertwining his fingers with were now the ones he imagined trapping in his grasp, pinned above your head. The waist he had once longed to wrap his arms around and hold close was now one he imagined digging his fingertips into, leaving deep purple bruises in their wake.

The lips he thought of gently kissing he now pictures red and puffy from his teeth biting into them. Everything about Jongho changed. He now desires you in a much more carnal way than ever before. but despite all that, you still won’t look at him. It’s started to make Jongho beyond frustrated. having to see you come over and talk to his sister about every boy you’ve been seeing or hooking up with, when he’s the one that’s been pining after you for so long. it’s simply unfair and it makes Jongho want to pull his hair out. He hates having to see you dressed in skimpy little outfits, prancing around their house and getting ready, only to go out to clubs with his sister where other men would get to have their eyes and disgusting hands all over your body. Everyone else but Jongho got to have a taste of you and he was slowly starting to despise you for that. Having to see you so often became too overbearing when he realized you would never return his feelings. You would never look at Jongho the way he looks at you; with lust. All that you see him as is your best friend’s little brother. That’s all he’ll ever be in your eyes.

Jongho fucking hates that thought with a fiery passion.

It’s not uncommon for you to sleep over at their house most days. Jongho knows you prefer being here rather than with your own parents, since they’ve never really been good to you. Every time his sister and you go out clubbing, you’re guaranteed to come back to their place and sleep over.

Lately, it’s become a much more frequent occurrence for you to come back by yourself, after Jongho’s sister ends up ditching you at whatever party you were at, for any guy she decided to leave with that night. Which left you to come back to the house alone.

Where the only one waiting was Jongho. Most nights he’d sleep through the sound of the front door slamming and shuffling inside the house. But something made him startle awake this time around. Jongho is by no means a light sleeper, but today the sound of kitchen cabinets opening and closing rouse him from slumber, and the constant hiccups and loud steps padding through the living room wouldn’t let him go back to sleep. It’s like that for a good ten minutes. The commotion keeps him awake, staring at the ceiling of his room with a scowl etched between his brows, until it stops. The house falls silent again, almost as if it’s just him and no one else. But Jongho knows he’s not the only one in the house anymore, and since he didn’t hear his sister’s bedroom door opening, he knows she must not be the other person inside the house either. After another five minutes or so of silently staring into the darkness, he finally decides to kick the blankets off his body and get out of bed. The floor creaks as he walks and the tiles in the hallway are cold beneath his feet. He wishes he had put some socks on. Coming to a stop behind the living room couch he glances over at the tv that’s playing some sort of horror movie on mute that he knows he didn’t leave it on before going to bed. With a sigh, he walks closer and peers over the back of the couch. Of course, lying pretty, with hair splayed over the cushions and lips pouted outwards, is none other than you. Dressed in nothing but a tiny top and a skirt that rides halfway up your thighs, your shoes not even off your feet. “Sweet,” Jongho comments dryly, pursing his lips before walking around the couch to crouch before you. Shamelessly, he lets his eyes rake over your body, lingering on your exposed thighs, making his brows pinch together in sudden unreasonable frustration. Of course you had to come in here, looking like a beautiful disaster, smelling of sweet perfume and cigarette smoke, with glitter clinging to your lids and cheeks, most likely drunk off your ass. “You’re a mess,” Jongho scoffs. He doesn’t know why, but he reaches for your ankles, untying the laces that he can tell you must have struggled with, only to give up on. He slips the shoes off and starts to grow more frustrated by the second. “Had fun, Y/N?” he smiles bitterly with no genuine joy behind it. He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks. “I’m guessing not since you came back all by yourself.” You stir in your sleep, mumbling something incoherently before you quiet back down. Your hands are clutched into tiny fists by your head and your knees are bent up, curling into yourself. You look annoyingly adorable and Jongho can’t understand why he’s so angered by the image. “Probably let yourself be groped up at the party, didn’t you?” He spits with malice. “Let everyone just use you right then and there, didn’t even wait for someone to take you home.” You don’t make a single sound, only breathing evenly as you keep on sleeping peacefully. “Pathetic.” Jongho knows he has no right to do this. To say these words to you. To see you as a slut even though you’ve given him no reason to perceive you as such. But it’s the fact that you want everyone out there. Everyone else but him. He doesn’t even think twice before his eyes zero in on where your skirt has lifted enough to offer him a perfect view of your underwear. The light coming from the tv is also doing a good enough job of letting him get a better look. He shouldn’t. He’s disgusting. He’s cruel. He should feel ashamed. He flips your skirt up. The sight of pink lace makes his hands squeeze into fists and his mouth water involuntarily. Pretty, soft, delicate skin. Unmarked. Unclaimed. Right before his eyes. Jongho is going to either gouge his eyes out or get his hands all over your unconscious body in front of him. He opts for the latter.

It’s with a cautious move that he lets his palm run down the swell of your ass. Your skin dips ever so slightly underneath the pressure of his touch. The fat springs back into place when his fingertips dig in and out. Jongho bites his bottom lip until he draws blood. Of course every part of you just has to be pretty and irresistible. Jongho is positively seething at this point. “No one deserves you YN,” he mutters lowly, letting his hand trail down to the back of your thigh, digging his fingertips into the plumpness of it firmly enough to make you whine in your sleep and flip over onto your stomach, offering him easy access. “But i do.” Jongho hooks his index underneath soft lace. His eyes drift briefly over to your face, before he focuses right back. The anger is still present. It’s finally time, he decides. Time to take what is rightfully his. He’s waited long enough. “I deserve this.” Of course you’re still infinitely pretty everywhere. Even where Jongho’s never seen you before. He stares intently at your pussy that’s completely bare and smooth and inviting enough for him to part and expose your hole with two fingers. You’re all soft and pink, glistening beautifully before his eyes. He wants to slap his palm right on top of your cunt just so he can punish you for being so perfect even where you’re not supposed to be. He circles a tentative finger around the tight opening instead. It’s clear as day why anyone would want to get a taste of you. You’re far better than any of Jongho’s wet dreams. Every time he’s imagined himself with his head buried between your thighs, it didn’t even come close to how good you looked in real life. “Look at that,” he whispers, scooting closer and using his other hand to keep your panties pushed to the side. “How many cocks got to sink into this sloppy cunt, hm?” he tugs so hard that he thinks he can hear the lace slowly starting to rip in his hold.

“Who did you whore around for before finally getting to me, Y/N?” Of course you didn’t “get” to him willingly. If you hadn’t passed out drunk on the couch and if Jongho wasn’t such a disgusting pervert, this would’ve probably never happened. But alas, it did. And there’s no going back now. The feeling of moisture against his fingertips takes Jongho aback and it makes his jaw clench. Of course you’re wet from the faintest of touches. Pretty and responsive. Could things get any better? Jongho’s hand is shoved inside his sweatpants before he even gets to blink twice. He’s uselessly fisting at his cock that is now undeniably hard, knowing that what he needs in order to alleviate the ache is to sink it right into the cunt he’s been ogling at. Rising up to his feet, he tugs his pants low enough for his dick to spring free and bob into the open air, hot and hard to the touch. His eyes are locked onto your face, watching as you still sleep soundlessly, without a single clue about what’s about to occur next. His knee props up on the couch cushion right next to your head. With one hand he takes a hold of himself and with the other he smooths your hair off your face, tilting your chin back. “Pretty girl,” he sighs, circling the tip of his dick around your puckered lips. “All mine. just like you were meant to be.” His head prods at your mouth until it finally opens, lips suckling as if it was a pacifier. Jongho grits his teeth and tries his hardest not to slip his entire length down your throat. He lets you suck gently on the tip and drink up all the precum that’s being offered to you. “Fucking cock slut. Look at you.” Jongho’s thumb pushes at the corner of your mouth, encouraging you to open it further. “So eager to have something in your mouth even when you sleep.” You whimper weakly, eyelids starting to twitch. Jongho pays it no mind, guiding his dick little by little inside your mouth, engulfing himself in warmth and wetness, making his balls constrict.

The sight of you sleeping so blissfully unaware with your pussy out in the open and your mouth stuffed with cock makes him almost shoot his load right then and there. Before he realizes it, Jongho has slid far enough inside your mouth to make you gurgle. Your eyes flutter open in confusion. Strings of spit still cling from your lips and onto Jongho’s shaft, the sight utterly obscene. You cough, hand reaching forward to weakly paw at Jongho’s thigh, fingers grasping at the material of his sweatpants. “What the fuck-“ It takes you a little while to be able to focus enough on the sight in front of you. You blink up weakly. “Jongho?” Your eyes need a few long seconds to adjust to the darkness, but when they do, they look as if they might pop out of their sockets when you take notice of Jongho sitting before you with his dick out in the open, hard and wet with your spit. “W-what’s going on?” “Go back to sleep, Y/n,” Jongho’s tone was gruff and unwavering. A slight threat. Your face falls. Your eyes take in the scene in front you much more clearly, face becoming overtaken by fear. “What are you d-doing?” you ask, trying to scramble back. Jongho is quicker, though. His fingers wrap around your chin in a bruising grip before you can get too far. You stare up at him in pure horror. “For once, just let me have this,” Jongho grits, watching as your mouth parts, but seemingly not knowing how you should reply. “Don’t speak.” “Jongho,” you whisper, squirming uncomfortably and still trying to scoot back when you see him grab a hold of his dripping cock, “Y-you can’t do this.” “Why not?” Jongho scoffs, leaning in until he’s speaking right in your face. “This is all your fault, you know?” he spits, watching your eyes grow bigger. “You made me like this. Had me running after you like some sick puppy, only to kick me away like a stray every single time. You left me no choice.” Your bottom lip starts to tremble, a yelp escaping from the back of your throat when Jongho grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you closer until your foreheads press together. “Why don’t you ever look at me?” Jongho asks, hurt evident in his voice. “Why don’t you like me?” “I-I do like you!” You cry out, trying to pry his hand away with your weaker ones, but it’s to no use. “Not the way I want you to.” He shakes his head, as though what he’s about to do has been decided long before this moment. The certainty in his expression makes your heart pound with fear. He releases your hair, only to seize the nape of your neck instead, his grip firm enough to keep you exactly where he wants you. “Not the way I like you.” “This is wrong Jongho, please!” You desperately plead, trying to kick your feet, but to no use. It doesn’t deter Jongho in the slightest. “It is,” Jongho nods his head. He knows it’s wrong. He knows he should stop. But you owe him this. “I’m sorry.” Before you have the chance to scream, the breath is knocked out of your lungs as Jongho manhandles you, flipping you onto your front. Your skirt is still flipped up, underwear hanging crookedly over your hips. It’s relatively easy for Jongho to reach between your thighs and cup you right on top of where you’re warmest. “No, stop!” You struggle uselessly, cries getting more frightened by the second as Jongho continues on unbothered. “Jongho, get off, seriously!” Jongho can tell you’re still drunk. Your movements are sluggish, your speech slightly slurred. You kick your legs weakly and try to scoot away, but you’re far too slow for someone who supposedly doesn’t want this. He uses that as an advantage. A sharp slap lands against your cunt, making you squeak as your body stills instantly. “Let me have this,” Jongho grits out, anger roughening every word. As though this is somehow your fault. As though you’ve done something to wrong him.“Stop refusing me.”

“Please, please, please…let me go,” You hiccup weakly, trying to shift your hips away, but it’s no use. Jongho is already dragging your underwear down your thighs with one hand, the other holding your hands tightly behind your back. “Why does everyone get to have you but me?” Jongho asks bitterly, like he can’t make sense of why you insist on denying him. “Look at this,” he scoffs incredulously, running a tentative finger through your folds. “How many people got to have a taste of this cunt before me?” You gasp wetly, falling stiff as a board, as if all your fight or flight instincts have suddenly left. You can do nothing but breathe heavily as Jongho’s fingers start to run up and down through your parted folds. The first press to your clit has you yelping and trembling, as if a button had been pushed inside of you. Your body reacts against your own will, hole slicking in an instant. When Jongho’s fingertips come back sticky he chuckles darkly. “Of course you’re wet,” He presses down even more punishingly on your clit, making your legs flail, mouth falling open. “You don’t even want me, yet your little cunny is gushing at the slightest touch.”

A shudder of humiliation goes through you. You think you should definitely be fighting a lot harder than are. Your high pitched mewls are not doing much to help you in your current predicament. “W-wait, stop,” You gasps at the first hint of a finger near your opening. “Please!” Your pleas fall upon deaf ears as Jongho easily sinks two fingers down to the knuckle. He grunts. You feel snug and warm—like you’re trying to suck him right in. Jonghos wondered for so long how you would feel inside. He can’t believe the day in which his questions are being answered has finally come. “Fucking tight,” he grunts, fingers scissoring inside your cunt mercilessly, adding another alongside the first two.

It’s a tight fit, but your gushing hole accepts it greedily. “Love your slutty body.” Your hands try weakly to slide out of Jongho’s grip. So weakly it can’t even be considered an actual attempt. Jongho wants to laugh at the futile attempt but he focuses on thrusting his fingers harder instead. "Could probably break you right in half.” It’s not a lie. You looks so small and fragile underneath him right now. The words, although they don't sound like a genuine threat, are far from false. "Fuck you so hard that you'd ache for days on end." You sob pitifully, face splotchy with tears and mouth overfilling with spit that dribbles down the corners of your mouth. This already feels like too much and Jongho hasn’t even gotten his dick inside of you yet. “You’d like it too,” Jongho continues to speak. He curls his fingers causing you to release a choked sound. “I know you would.” You try to shake your head no, but your neck aches too much in your position. “Filthy little slut.” A whine escapes you when the fingers inside of you suddenly pull out without warning, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing, still wet and throbbing in the chilly air of the room. You take that as a chance and desperately struggle to push yourself up when your arms get released. Jongho is on you in an instant, having climbed up on the couch behind you, hands forcefully holding your hips down. You sob softly as you grip onto the couch arm uselessly, blunt fingernails digging into the velvety material. The breath gets knocked out of your lungs when you feel something prodding at your entrance. “I’m going to fuck you,” Jongho says without a hint of doubt. No hint of hesitation. Jongho wholeheartedly means what he says and you know that. Which is exactly why you’re absolutely terrified, heart now stuck in your throat. “N-no, Jongho, please! I’ll do anything! Y-you can take me out—we’ll go on a date, and we can do whatever you want. Please!”You desperately try to reason with him. On any other day, Jongho might have considered your proposal. He wishes it didn’t have to come to this for you to finally entertain the idea of going on a date with him. Jongho lets out a heavy sigh. “You’d do anything?” 

You nod frantically. “Anything!” 

Jongho pretends to think it over. He ponders with a hand holding his dick and the other pressing down on the small of your back, keeping you in place.  

“Then sit still,” He finally grunts followed by a sharp thrust of his hips. A painful wheeze rips straight out of your lungs when he shoves himself inside your outstretched cunt, bottoming out in one go.  Fat tears instantly roll down your already sticky cheeks, your frail body getting jostled forward from the powerful thrust. 

“Shit,” Jongho grunts at the same time as you whisper another “please” that goes unanswered. “Always knew you’d have the tightest pussy.” 

Your stomach stirs as Jongho begins to pull out, the drag feeling searing against your walls, only to push right back in twice as powerful. You think you see white for a solid moment. 

“Oh God,” you moan, gripping tightly onto the couch as you get mercilessly plowed into. The worst part of it all is when it starts to feel good. You can’t deny how deliciously heavy Jongho feels inside of you. How well he’s pounding you right into the couch, making you feel small and helpless underneath him, completely overpowered. 

You gush around his cock so much you’re sure you made a puddle underneath yourself. “Mine,” Jongho growls, lowering down enough so he can nip on the back of your neck. “All of you belongs to me, Y/n. This pretty little body of yours,” You cry out when your front gets lifted enough for Jongho to sneak his hands underneath your chest and cup your breasts over your top, “These fat tits,” you positively sob when your bra is pushed down and your perky nipples get exposed to the air of the room, twisted by skillful fingers, “This tight little cunt.” the statement is accompanied by a powerful thrust that you feel all the way in your  tummy. “Mine, Mine, Mine. You’re all mine.” 

You can do nothing but keep on moaning as you get fucked within an inch of your life, filthy words being continuously grunted in your ear as you  unwillingly hurl towards an orgasm, screaming as you cum and let go all around Jongho’s cock. 

“God, you really are just the perfect whore,” Jongho’s hips piston into you, making your ass jiggle with every powerful thrust, painfully overstimulating your sensitive hole as he pounds you with purpose. Before you can try to recover, and get a grasp on reality, Jongho is cumming hotly inside of you, making you keen high in your throat as you feel how deep he shoots his load. 

You’re unable to do anything else but slump down with a defeated whimper.   

“Good, so good. Did so well,” Jongho practically purrs, pressing kisses over your shoulder blades, still holding you down. “I knew you’d like it.” 

You want to scream. To tell him that you didn’t like it. That it was wrong. But that would clearly be a lie. The only thing you can do is whine. 

“Shh, don’t worry,” Jongho leans forward so he can reach your face, kissing your cheek tenderly. “I’m not done with you yet.” 

You lost the power to protest long ago. 

Jongho sits behind the kitchen counter, eating a bowl of cornflakes when his sister walks into the house at the crack of dawn. She seems surprised to find him awake so early in the morning. Quickly scanning the room, she realizes it’s just the two of them.

“Where’s Y/n?” she asks, furrowing her brows as she tosses her purse onto the couch.

Jongho shrugs. “Dunno.”

She yawns loudly as she clumsily slips off her shoes. “Whatever. I’m going to bed. Don’t wake me up.”

Jongho rolls his eyes, but a slight smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth. He wouldn’t even dream of it. When the door to his sister’s bedroom shuts loudly, he deems it safe to get up and places his bowl in the sink before retreating to his own room. The sun has just started to rise, and his room is engulfed in a weak yellow glow. Jongho thinks there is nothing more beautiful in the world than the sight of you lying in his bed in the warm glow of the sunrise—naked and bruised, completely debauched and cum stained. “Hi, pretty baby.” He smiles widely as he locks the door behind him. You whine from behind the makeshift gag Jongho tied around your head and shoved inside your mouth. “Guess what?” You whine weakly as Jongho stalks toward you, carefully climbing onto the bed and hovering above you. When he frees your mouth and lets you catch your breath, he speaks the words you don’t know if you’ve been dreading or somehow excitedly anticipating. “I get to have you for the whole day.” You don’t even have time to respond before he’s kissing you again. And again. And then again, until the world around you disappears, until you melt into the mattress and into Jongho’s arms. Where you belong.

“What are you doing here?” Mingi spat out.

You winced. Sure, Mingi looked like he could kill someone, but in the time you knew him, he was the sweetest fucking cinnamon roll.

“I c-came to support you and the boys,” you murmured— it was the truth. You just wanted to support the band you had come to love, but honestly, you also wanted to see Mingi because you missed him. You missed him so fucking much.

“I told you to never let me see you again, Y/N. What is so fucking hard to understand about that?” Mingi huffed and ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up further.

“But why?” your voice wavered, tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. Tears actually did spill out of your eyes when you cried, “Why are you doing this? Can you tell me what I did wrong? Please? You break up with me over a phone call and tell me you want nothing to do with me, but you never said why!”

Mingi flinched. He hated seeing you cry, and he desperately wanted to just hug you and dry your tears, but he couldn’t. He had to stay away from you, and he couldn’t figure out a way to keep you away without just telling you to stay away. He wasn’t one to cheat or to move on so easily— hell, he had been performing for years, and it took him years to find someone like you, someone who could make everything go away, someone he could actually fall in love with— so he couldn’t bring himself to lie to you. He just needed you to trust him and to just stay away.

“Just get out of my face. Don’t ever come near me again,” Mingi bit out.

He didn’t even brush past you on his way out. He completely avoided you. You fell to your knees and cried as the curtains to the room swished upon his departure.

Before he could even get two steps away from the dressing room, Mingi ran into the one person he did not want to run into.

“Dude, I did what you fucking asked, okay?” he held his hands up and took a step away from him. “I didn’t do shit.”

“I know. I just came to collect,” he responded. “We’ll be out of your hair.”

Mingi nodded and quickly got away before the conversation could persist. He left the venue and slammed the door on his way out. He wanted to just run away into the night, but it was pouring. Of course it was raining. He settled for leaning against the side of the establishment and fishing his carton of cigarettes and his favorite lighter out of his back pocket. He lit one up and took a deep drag before the pain in his heart started to subside.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Mingi heard the bassist’s voice behind him.

“Not now, Yeosang,” Mingi murmured.

“No, dude. Spit it out. One day, Y/N was the love of your life, and the next you’re screaming at her to leave you alone? Nothing’s adding up,” Yeosang pushed further.

“Yeah, we’ll only be able to help you if you tell us what’s going on,” the keyboardist, Yunho, added.

Mingi found himself boxed in by the members of his band and let out his twentieth deep sigh of the day. “Fine,” Mingi mumbled as he took another drag from his cigarette. “But after I tell you guys, I don’t want to hear another word of it. I don’t want to hear her name ever again, got it?”

The men nodded, allowing Mingi to finally reveal what had happened between the two of you.

“Hey, who was that preppy chick in the front row?” the red-headed drummer asked his fellow bandmates.

“Beats me, dude,” Yunho shrugged. “She definitely doesn’t belong here, though.”

“Yeah, she’s like super preppy and shit,” the guitarist giggled.

“Isn’t that your type though, Wooyoung?” the drummer pointed out.

“…Shut up, San,” Wooyoung grumbled.

“It is weird, though. I’ve seen her so many times at our concerts. Is she one of our groupies?” Yeosang asked.

“Are groupies even a thing anymore?” Mingi furrowed his eyebrows.

“She’s definitely not a drug dealer from the looks of her,” San mused out loud.

“Okay, that was one time, and she seemed excited to be considered a groupie. I wasn’t talking to her because she sold— and I’m not about that shit! I haven’t done any more since I met you guys!”

“Mingi! Chill, that’s not what he was talking about!” Yunho grabbed Mingi’s shoulder to calm him down before he could throw a tantrum. “Besides, you almost went to jail. We know you don’t do drugs, so you don’t gotta get all defensive on us.”

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Mingi reclaimed his shoulder and adjusted his sweater before plopping to the ground.

“Anyway, that preppy girl— how many shows has she been at now?”

“Eight,” Yeosang answered immediately, only for four pairs of eyes to shoot directly to him and widen. “Not that I’ve been counting! …I’m just observant guys.”

“”Observant”,” Wooyoung mocked.

Before Yeosang could get up to slap the giggling guitarist silly, there was a knock on the dressing room door. Mingi got up and answered the door to see one of the stage managers standing there, a look of irritation on their face.

“Yes?”

“I thought we said you weren’t allowed to give anyone backstage access,” the stage manager said with disgust.

“We didn’t though?”

“Uh, actually…” San interjected and slowly raised his hand, the other four bandmates immediately groaning and yelling at the boy.

“Come on, man— We just talked about this!”

“You seriously suck.”

“That email was literally sent for you, San!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’ll handle it!” San held his hands up and scurried out of the room.

“Someone go with him to make sure he isn’t going to do stupid shit,” Yunho sighed while rolling his eyes.

“On it,” Mingi grumbled.

Leaving the other three to apologize profusely to the stage manager, Mingi left in pursuit of San. He got into the lobby of the venue and saw San with his arm already around the waist of the girl he had invited back to the dressing room— that bastard. Mingi made a mad dash for them, only to turn the corner and nearly crash into you, the preppy girl that looked like she didn’t belong at a rock concert, the preppy girl that Wooyoung (and also maybe Yeosang) had a tiny crush on. Well, he nearly crashed into you, but that didn’t stop you from tripping over your own two feet and falling back on your butt.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” Mingi apologized as he held out a hand to help you up.

“Can you—” you were about to tell the tall figure off, only to see his face and recognize him as the lead vocalist of your current favorite band: IT’S YOU(TH). “— sign my bra?”

You immediately clapped your hands over your mouth, your face burning red from sheer embarrassment. Mingi couldn’t help but laugh— so many girls had asked him to sign their bras in the past, but no one was ever shy about it, so your reaction to the words flying out of your mouth was honestly hysterical.

“I mean, I can if you want,” Mingi replied, a chuckle still lingering in his voice.

“R-really?” you squeaked.

One signed bra, eleven concerts, sixteen dates, and eighty-eight days later, Mingi was absolutely in love with you. Of course, he would never admit it first, but everyone in IT’S YOU(TH)— and honestly the whole damn world— could tell that the lead vocalist and guitarist of the young up-and-coming rock band was head-in-the-clouds, rose-tinted-glasses, cupid-shot-an-arrow-through-his-soul in love.

“Okay, Miss Astronomer, what am I looking at?” Mingi whispered to you, his lips dangerously near your ear.

IT’S YOU(TH) just finished their set for the night, and Mingi had promised you that he would be right by your side as soon as the concert ended. The two of you had driven way out of the city to the local rural area and laid in the wheat fields while staring up at the night sky. You had promised Mingi a night under the stars when he found out you spent four years of further education to study astronomy and physics, and you were finally delivering on that promise.

“So, that right there?” you whispered back as you started your astronomy lesson. “That’s you.”

“What?”

“That’s the Leo constellation,” you giggled— Mingi wasn’t really one for astrology.

“Oh, I get it,” Mingi responded with a half-hearted laugh, then genuinely asked, “But where is it?”

“Right there,” you responded as you traced the sky.

“Where?”

“Here,” you reached for Mingi’s hand and held it so that his pointer finger would be out. You then brought his hand to the sky and traced it for him with his hand. “Right… There…”

Mingi shifted ever so slightly closer to you the second you held his hand, and you felt his breath hit your neck as he rubbed his nose against your ear. You stifled a little moan mixed with a giggle and brought his hand down, his fingers lacing with yours as he did so.

“Can I… Tell you about my favorite star?” you asked him as you turned your head to face his.

“Tell me.”

You completely turned your body and scooted closer to him, his own body turning so he could face you properly. He let go of your hand so he could move his arm under your head to rest, and you snuggled into his soft chest. You placed your hand lightly on his chest and whispered, “This one. You’re my favorite star.”

“God, princess, you’re so cheesy,” Mingi rolled his eyes, but he had the biggest grin on his face.

“You’re also the brightest star, the prettiest star, the sexiest star,” you continued.

“I’m sexy, you say,” Mingi’s baritone voice dropped further, sending tingles of excitement down your spine.

“Of course you’re sexy. Your messy, dark hair, your smokey eyeshadow, your dark eyeliner,” you started listing, your fingers running through his hair then tiptoeing down his face. “Your beautifully angled nose, your… Soft… Lips…”

Your eyes lingered on his lips— eighty-eight days, and he had yet to kiss you. Well, he had kissed you, but he gave you those fleeting kisses, the kisses so quick that if you blinked, you’d miss them. Or, he’d kiss you “properly”, but those were usually on your forehead or cheek or shoulder— basically everywhere but your lips.

So, when he held your chin with a soft yet somehow still firm grip and tilted your chin up, your entire body flushed with warmth, with anticipation. Then, when his lips pressed against yours, you felt like you were soaring. You always imagined his lips were going to be soft since you spent so much of your time staring at them when he was on stage singing his heart out, and they were so much softer than you could imagine.

One kiss, then he leaned back, his eyes slightly darting back and forth as he observed your facial expression. Your rosy cheeks and small smile, your eyes turning into half crescents and sparkling brilliantly— God, Mingi loved all of it. So he kissed you again, a little more drive and passion behind the second one, and the intensity of his kisses only increased the more he kissed you.

You clung to him as his hand cupped your face, his long fingers brushing the nape of your neck and making you even more flustered. Your breaths and sighs mixed with his as your gentle string of kisses got heavier and hotter.

“What else?” Mingi asked in between kisses breathlessly. “What else do you find sexy?”

“Your neck tattoos.” Kiss. “Your hand tattoos.” Kiss. “Your nails.” Kiss. “Your rings.” Kiss. “Your style.” Kiss. “Your voice.” Kiss. “You.”

“Fuck, you’re so perfect, princess,” Mingi groaned, sending shivers down your spine.

Mingi forcefully disconnected himself from you, making you whimper and nearly whine. He stood up quickly, and before you could even begin to pick yourself up, he scooped you off the ground and carried you to his car. Unlocking it, he laid you down in the back seat and got in with you, his lips mashing into yours the second the car door closed.

His body rolled into yours as his hands roamed your body, your own restless hands tugging at his clothes, begging him to take them off. The sounds of your feverish lip locks with Mingi overpowered the rustling of your clothes and the clinks of his belt as they hit the ground one by one, leaving you completely naked and Mingi in just his underwear. You didn’t know when he managed to, but Mingi grabbed the condom he had stashed in his wallet and tucked it into the waistband of his underwear.

You wanted to ask why he was waiting to, for lack of better words, give it to you, but all of the thoughts and questions in your head disappeared in a heartbeat when Mingi traced two light fingers along your folds. A sigh of pleasure rippled out of your lungs when you felt his fingers slide through your slick and curl within you, the tips of his fingers digging softly into your walls. You could feel his rings press against your folds— they had yet to enter you. But, when he pulled his fingers out then shoved them right back in, he went further, his rings pushing past and into your cunt.

“Oh shit! Mingi!” you moaned loudly as he fingered you consistently and roughly. “Fuck, it feels so good!”

“Just keep moaning prettily like that for me, princess,” Mingi rasped as he added a third finger to the mix, his other hand beginning to massage your breast.

Your nails left red marks on his shoulders as you clung to him, your fingers and toes curling with every stroke. You bit your lower lip every so often so keep your moans to a minimum, but all hope was lost when his thumb started circling your clit, one circle for every stroke, and it definitely didn’t help when he started spreading his fingers inside you and pinched and tugged your nipple. You raked your fingers through Mingi’s hair and pulled him closer to you as you felt your orgasm wash over you, your loud moan sounding through the car.

“Princess, did you cum?” Mingi asked, although he didn’t need to know because he could feel your walls convulsing around his fingers.

You let out a little noise and nodded weakly, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. Mingi caressed your face and wiped the tears away quickly before kissing you softly.

“Mingi,” you whimpered in between kisses. “I want you in me.”

You thought was going to laugh at the desperation in your voice, but he did anything but. He sat up and stroked your thigh gently as he said, “I’m going to need you to relax, okay?”

Mingi shed his boxers to reveal his massive cock. He just told you to relax, yet you couldn’t help but tense up when you saw what he was working with because he was fucking huge. It only made you even more fearful when you saw the letters XXL on his condom packet.

“Princess, just relax, okay?” Mingi instructed again softly.

He leaned down again and distracted you with his soft lips. His large hands went under your thighs and pushed your legs up, the length of his cock rubbing against your clit before pushing in slowly. You did your best to focus on kissing Mingi and tighten your hold on him to get yourself to loosen up to the best of your ability, but that didn’t stop you from feeling his like cock was going to tear you a new one.

Mingi kept his lips on yours as he moved slowly and calmly, his dick not completely leaving your body nor going all the way inside. He was just warming you up, but you felt like you were about to combust into flames with the way he was making you feel. You moaned and cried into his kisses while he grunted, his own restraint starting to weaken— he didn’t want to hurt you, at least not the first time the two of you had sex together.

The car bounced and shook when Mingi’s last string of self-control snapped. His cock filled you up and went so far deep inside you that you thought he was going to bruise your cervix. The sound of your sloppy kisses and heavy breaths and the raunchy squelches of his cock moving in and out of your soaking cunt harmonized, the sounds nearly escaping the confines of the car. What did escape, though, was your crying moan when Mingi rubbed against your G-spot and hit your cervix at the same time. The two of you came together, Mingi’s low groan ringing in your ears.

You were practically knocked out when Mingi pulled out of you, your weak and trembling hands struggling to push your sweaty hair away from your forehead. Mingi watched with slight amusement as you slowly started to regain your sanity.

“You look so pretty right now, princess,” Mingi said softly, nearly cooing. “I just want to see you disheveled like this under me all the time.”

“Tell me when and where, and I’m there, rockstar.”

After 100 days of being together, the problem started to arise.

“Hey, pretty princess,” Mingi greeted you as he walked into the coffee shop for your coffee date.

“Hey there, rockstar,” you greeted right back.

Mingi leaned down and kissed your lips quickly before taking the seat in front of you. He reached for your hands and held them, your hands fitting perfectly in his.

“Did you order yet?” he asked.

“Yeah, for both of us.”

Right on cue, one of the baristas announced your drinks were ready. Mingi got up and quickly returned with the drinks in hand. He set both the drinks down, your eager hands immediately picking up your iced one.

You only got to take one sip of your drink when your phone started ringing. You looked at the caller id and immediately declined the call before setting your phone face down on the table, Mingi warily watching all of your actions.

“Who was that?”

“Spam,” you replied with a frown— you hated lying to him, but to be fair, the caller was spamming you, and you had no intention of ever picking up the calls.

“Ugh, hate that,” Mingi grimaced.

“Tell me about it.”

The phone calls persisted. Every time the two of you went on a date or hung out or did anything together, you would get the “spam” calls. Mingi didn’t think much of it at first because spam calls usually were very annoying, but he started to worry when you phone would ring two, three, even four times in a row no matter how many times you declined the call.

“Hnngh— Harder! Fuck— Faster!” you shrilled as Mingi fucked you from behind. “Ugh, Mingi, so good!”

Your face was nearly smashed into your mattress as Mingi ruthlessly stuffed his large cock in your tight hole. He grunted loudly and affirmatively as he gripped your ass harder, his rings digging into your skin, your skin getting redder with his occasional slap.

Mingi was the first to notice. Your phone was on the nightstand, and it was ringing. He slowed his pace so he could reach over and grab it to decline the call on your behalf. He tossed your phone onto the bed near your hand and upped his tempo while pulling your ass higher into the sky.

And yet, your phone rang again. You quickly declined it before Mingi could notice, but he did. It was when it rang for the third time that Mingi had enough.

“Princess,” he grunted. “Gimme your phone.”

“W-why?”

“Just gimme.”

You unlocked your phone and pushed it backwards towards him— you trusted Mingi, so you had no problem doing as he asked. And Mingi didn’t abuse that trust. He simply opened the call log and saw the sea of red missed or declined calls, all of them from the same, unsaved number. He blocked the number and locked your phone before setting it back on the nightstand where it originally was, then he continued to fuck your brains out.

Mingi wanted it to be done then and there, which technically it was because you blocked the number, but that didn’t stop a bad feeling from manifesting within him.

“Yo, Mingi, you gonna meet us at the restaurant?” Yunho asked the singer.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call Y/N first—”

“You mean your pretty princess?” San teased— your name on Mingi’s phone was “pretty princess”, and the guys teased him all the time for it.

“Your pretty preppy princess?” Wooyoung piled on.

“Yes, my pretty princess. Go choke on some soju,” Mingi frowned and shooed the boys away.

The four other members of IT’S YOU(TH) skipped cheerfully away, leaving Mingi alone by his car. He started calling you only for someone to grab his phone.

“IT’S YOU(TH), huh? Cute.”

Mingi whipped around, his jaw tensing as he got ready to beat the shit out of whoever stole his phone from him.

“What’s your fucking problem, dude? Give my phone back, or I’ll beat the shit out of you,” Mingi warned aggressively.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the same voice said.

Stepping closer to him, a man with a flowery charm but deadly eyes appeared before Mingi. He dangled his phone as he stood before him, riling Mingi up further. He tightened his fist and prepared to swing, only for two pairs of arms to restrain him. The two people behind him brought Mingi down to his knees and kept him there, one man kneeling on his back while the other had a fistful of Mingi’s hair tight in his grasp.

“What the fuck do you want?” Mingi asked, his anger intensifying. “If it’s money, I’ll give you however much you want.”

“I don’t need your money, guitar boy. I want Y/N.”

“What?”

The man crouched in front of Mingi and held his phone up, the lock screen of you and Mingi shining brightly. He pointed at you and said, “I want Y/N back.”

“Oh, you’re a crazy ex-boyfriend,” Mingi couldn’t help but scoff. “Listen, she’s not one for me to give back. She likes me, so she’s dating me. She doesn’t like you, so she’s not dating you. It’s her choice, dude.”

Without a warning, the guy punched Mingi in the face. Mingi’s cheek immediately started bleeding, his eye throbbing with pain. Before he could recover from the shock of the punch, the man sent a mean hook into his jaw, Mingi’s head flying to the side. The guy behind him held his head back up, forcing Mingi to make eye contact with the asshole that just punched him.

“She didn’t break up with me because she stopped liking me, you asshole. She broke up with me because of you.”

Mingi didn’t bother responding— villains usually always revealed everything without being prompted.

“Ever since she went and saw your cute little band, she told me she “fell in love with you” and that she would literally “do anything” for you. Someone like you with your fucking pretty boy make up and your painted nails and your criminal face tattoo,” the man sneered in Mingi’s face. “Someone like you of all fucking people.”

“Seonghwa,” one of the men behind Mingi uttered. “Get to the point.”

“Shut the fuck up, Hongjoong,” the man, who Mingi could now identify as Seonghwa, snapped. Turning back to Mingi, Seonghwa continued, “She was still dating me the day you signed her fucking bra. And then the concert after that, you fucking asked her out, and she said yes and dropped me in a heartbeat.”

“How is that my fault?! I asked her out, but she could’ve said no!” Mingi argued.

“It’s you and your fucking band’s fault for even existing, you asshole!”

Seonghwa grabbed the collar of Mingi’s shirt and pulled him up, the two other men behind Mingi still holding onto him.

“Hongjoong, Jongho, let go. I want to beat this guy up,” Seonghwa hissed.

“Seonghwa, calm down—”

“Fucking drop his ass!”

Hongjoong and Jongho let go of Mingi, and Seonghwa immediately swung before Mingi could stop him. Mingi fell to the ground, allowing Seonghwa to start kicking the shit out of him. He couldn’t even get away from Seonghwa, but thankfully, his two friends held him back.

“Do you really think Y/N is going to want to be with you if you do shit like this?”

“Don’t give her a reason to hate you, dude.”

“Ugh, fine!” Seonghwa admitted defeat before shaking his friends off. “But you, Song Mingi, you better break up with her or else.”

“Or else what? You’ll kill me?” Mingi scoffed.

“No. I’ll destroy the rest of your band.”

The color in Mingi’s face drained. He could handle someone threatening him, but the thought of anyone from IT’S YOU(TH) getting hurt because of him or disbanding because of him was terrifying to him.

“Y-you… You wouldn’t.”

“I can, and I will. Break up with Y/N, and you and your band can sing your silly songs for the rest of time. Stay with her, and I’ll drive everyone in your life away from you.” Seonghwa tossed Mingi’s phone back to him. He crouched in front of him and added, “You have ’til the next concert.”

With that, Seonghwa and his friends left Mingi next to his car bleeding, afraid, and alone.

“That’s why your eye was black?” Yeosang asked with shock.

“Yes.”

“Mingi… I’m so sorry,” San sounded like he was about to cry.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have to choose like that. Her ex-boyfriend is a complete psychopath!” Wooyoung added just as emotionally.

The three boys smothered Mingi with hugs while Yunho stood a little bit away, a frown plastered to his face.

“Alright, but now you all will drop it, right?” Mingi grunted as he tried to escape the group hug.

The boys nodded and verbally agreed. They started to head back inside, but Mingi stayed outside to burn through another cigarette. Yunho stayed with him.

“Don’t say anything, man. I know you,” Mingi sighed as he fished out his carton of cigarettes again.

Yunho didn’t say anything. Instead, he gave Mingi a silent hug, his hand petting the back of the singer’s head. Tears welled up in Mingi’s eyes. He dropped his face into Yunho’s shoulder and hugged the keyboardist back as he silently sobbed about his broken heart.

The two of you were at a dive bar with your friends drinking and enjoying your youth when he suddenly told you to come to the bathroom with him because he wanted to fuck. Not once in your entire life had you done anything like this before, nor did you think you were capable of being so bold, but Yunho was an influence.

“Don’t be,” he grunted out as he closed and locked the door.

“But what if people try to come in? What if they need to use the bathroom—”

Yunho cut you off with a rough kiss before speaking lowly, his voice rumbling in his throat as he said, “There’s another bathroom. Panties off. Now.”

Here’s the thing: it’s not that you didn’t want to do it. You wanted to. You loved fucking Yunho because, fuck, he was huge and so skilled. It kind of bummed you out to think about his string of ex-lovers, but at least you got to reap the rewards of his experience. He taught you so many things, one of them being that sex shouldn’t hurt in a way that you don’t want it to, so when he fucked you, it was always brilliant.

It was more about the location of where he was fucking you. A bathroom in a dive bar? Gross. So gross. And the fear of someone walking in on you was an additional factor, but for some reason, that fear also turned you on? A great woman once said that scared is the best way to be horny, so fuck it. Just roll with it. At least the sex would be safe. Yunho always practiced safe sex.

You lifted up your skirt and started pulling down your panties, but Yunho decided you were taking too much time for his impatient ass. He yanked your panties down for you, forcing you to take them off, and he crumpled them up before stuffing them in the pocket in his jeans. You were a little worried about why he did such a thing, but that worry immediately vanished when he lifted your leg up, his hand fitting snugly in the space behind your knee. He pushed you up against the sink and kissed you sloppily, his patience wearing thinner by the second.

He had no patience, but he had to be. He had to loosen you up, make sure you were ready to take him. He shoved two slender fingers into you and spread them wide as he fingered you slowly but roughly. You bit down hard on your knuckle as Yunho continued to prep you for his massive cock, only for Yunho’s mouth to meet yours, distracting your lips with his, your moans with his tongue.

Yunho kept his lips connected to yours when he finally deemed you fit to enter. He skillfully rolled the condom on and thrust sharply into you, your entire body lifting off the sink for a split moment. He continued to ram mercilessly into you, gasps and cries leaving your soul every time he hit your cervix.

“Shh,” Yunho stopped kissing you since, clearly, his mouth was not enough to shut you up. He covered your mouth with his hand and said, “Keep quiet unless you want someone to find out.”

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you did your best to keep your noises to a minimum, Yunho’s hand assisting in keeping you quiet. But, Yunho with his intense stamina was not letting up, and his strength was making you see white spots. It was when he barely uncovered your mouth were you able to choke out, “C-cumming!”

“Here.” Yunho pulled out and placed his dick right against your folds. His thumb traced rapid circles around your clit as he said in a low voice, “Cum on my cock.”

Which you did. You bit your lower lip and let yourself completely go as you squirted all over his cock, your arousal fluid barely dotting the ground. Without a second to lose, Yunho entered you again, your walls tightening around his length as you still tried to recover from your intense orgasm.

“Shit,” Yunho chuckled. “You got so fucking tight. I’m cumming.”

Thrusting all the way inside you, Yunho filled up his condom, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat as he emptied himself entirely. He stayed in you for a hot second before pulling out and immediately throwing the used condom away. The two of you got situated, and Yunho was about to unlock the door when you stopped him and held out your hand.

“What?”

“My panties, Yunho. You have them.”

Yunho smirked. He leaned down and whispered into your ear, “You don’t need them. Let’s go.”

Before you could protest further, Yunho unlocked the door, and the two of you, completely inconspicuously, left the bathroom. Your face was steaming when you rejoined your group, your legs pressed tightly together and your hands pulling down at your skirt as you sat uncomfortably.

“What was it? Blow?” Mingi asked.

“Something like that,” Yunho chuckled before picking up his beer and tapping his bottle against Mingi’s.

“No wonder Y/N looks all fucked out,” Mingi brought his voice down and whispered more to you than Yunho.

“N-no, it was nothing like that,” you squeaked out, your grip on your skirt tightening.

“Whatever you say, babe,” Mingi responded with a smirk and a wink. “Whatever you want to tell yourself.”

You were unable to focus on anything for the rest of the night, the horniness and fear pumping through your veins until you got home in the early hours of the morning, Yunho completely sending you home alone sans panties, making you take care of your lust all by yourself.

“You cannot be fucking serious, Y/N— how could you go along with that?!” your friend yelled at you as you recanted your story to him.

The two of you were preparing for a little birthday party— your birthday party— you were throwing on the roof of your apartment complex. He asked you about the guy you were seeing, and when you answered, that was his reaction.

“San, it was fine! I mean, the bathroom grossed me out, but I wanted him to fuck me,” you explained.

“You sure it was consensual?” San pressed further.

“Yes, it was,” you said confidently.

“But then what about your panties? That was totally not consensual,” San huffed out.

“I mean, yeah, sure… But it wasn’t really his fault you know.. He had a lot to drink,” you tried to defend Yunho’s actions— you both were drunk, and he usually wasn’t like that when he was sober, so you wanted to write it off as his drunken self being an idiot.

“Y/N, seriously, you need to get your head checked. You were not cool with that, and it doesn’t matter how many drinks the guy has had! If you ask for your fucking panties back, then you should get them back,” San lectured. “The guy was sober enough to pocket them and tell you he wouldn’t give them back, so you can’t blame the alcohol.”

“San, I get it, you’re worried. But, if I really wanted them back, then I would’ve pushed harder for them.”

“You need to get your head checked. Seriously,” San said, a slight tinge of malice in his voice. “You’ve fucking lost it.”

“That’s kind of rude, don’t you think?”

“Forget about all of what happened that night. I want to know what the hell your relationship with the guy is. You keep saying that you want a fairytale romance, but so far, I’ve heard more nightmares then dreams coming from your mouth.”

“What do you mean, San? You know everything there is to know about me and my relationship with him.”

“Have you ever had sex with him at your place or his place? You’re always out and about when you have sex with him—”

“We did it at a hotel once.”

“That doesn’t count. Have you even seen his apartment?”

“Well, not yet—“

“Did he get you a gift for your birthday?”

“I don’t know! The party hasn’t even started yet,” you were starting to get annoyed with San’s questions.

“Alright, fine. But what about labels? Are you his girlfriend? Is he your boyfriend?”

“We haven’t really talked about it—”

“Good fucking lord, Y/N! What the actual fuck is wrong with you?!”

“What’s going on?” a new voice popped up.

You and San both turned to the stairs to see Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa standing there with a cake, balloons, a bunch of alcohol, and fearful looks on all of their faces.

“Gimme a beer, and you finish the fucking decorations. I can’t with this bitch right now,” San nearly spat out as he dropped the streamers.

You looked at San with a huge frown on your face. Seonghwa replaced the man as San grabbed two beer bottles from Wooyoung and stormed off to a blind spot on the rooftop.

“What is San going on about?” Seonghwa asked you.

Apparently, San could still hear from where he was on the roof (despite the fact that he was out of sight) and yelled, “Tell her that the fucking guy is just using her! He doesn’t give a shit about her!”

“Then why would he practice safe sex with me, huh?! Why would he cater to me before fucking me?! So that I don’t get hurt! Don’t fucking say he doesn’t have feelings for me, you dick!” you got all riled up and started screaming back at your best friend.

“Hey, hey,” Seonghwa put a calming hand on your shoulder, his other hand motioning for you to slow down and take a deep breath. “Don’t let San get to you. You know that he’s only saying these things because he cares for you. He doesn’t want to see you get hurt. None of us do.”

“Then he should be more supportive of my relationship if he’s such a great friend,” you grumbled. “It’s not like he knows what it’s like to be in a committed relationship.”

“Yes, that may be true, but he knows what men are like. We all do,” Seonghwa continued in his calming voice, but you could read in between the lines.

“You don’t like Yunho either, do you?” you confronted him.

“…I haven’t met the guy yet. Maybe my opinion will change when I meet him.”

“Good. Because he’s coming to the party tonight.”

“Tell him to stay far away from me, then!” San called from afar.

“San! Stay out of it!” Seonghwa lectured the man. “Don’t listen to San, okay? Besides, it’s your birthday. Just have a couple of drinks, eat some cake, and have fun.”

Seonghwa brought you in for a hug, and your irritation slowly melted away simply knowing that you had a friend on your side.

Your friends slowly started arriving for the party once you and your friends (excluding San because he refused to help after finding out Yunho was going to be at the party) finished decorating the roof. You did your best to not let San’s words get to you as you plastered a smile onto your face and greeted all of your friends prettily, but it was only when Yunho arrived did your smile become genuine.

“Yunho!” you said cheerfully.

“Hey, Y/N. Happy birthday,” he greeted while extending his hand, a small gift in his grasp.

“Thank you! Listen, I want to introduce you to my friends,” you held his hand and brought him over to your group— some people from work, some people from the gym, your close friends: Wooyoung, Yeosang, Seonghwa, Hongjoong, Jongho— everyone but San. San kept his distance like he said he would

“Nice to meet you guys,” Yunho said, his signature, charming smile shining brilliantly on his face.

You, your friends (again, minus San), and Yunho all drank, sang and danced, cut the cake, opened presents— Yunho got you a cute little necklace with a dangling star— and time just flew by. Soon, it was just you, the helper boys, and Yunho. The helper boys (this time including San because Seonghwa yelled at him to) started cleaning up the roof while you and Yunho stood by the high balcony and admired the view, your shoulder pressed against his arm.

“Hey, what happened to Mingi? I thought you said you were going to bring him?” you asked.

“Oh, yeah. He got really wasted last night and hasn’t been able to get out of bed,” Yunho explained. “I just left him at the apartment.”

“Well, then that’s one less thing to worry about,” you let out a little laugh.

“Yeah.”

There was a tiny bit of silence between the two of you. Yunho pulled out his phone and started going through his notifications while you, on the other hand, started thinking about what San said about Yunho never having sex with you in your or his apartment, and you wanted to prove him wrong because there was no way in hell that Yunho didn’t see that you and he were in a relationship. Sure, you only ever fucked in public, but maybe that was his kink, and honestly, it was kind of starting to become yours as well.

“Hey, so, I was thinking,” you started as you tiptoed your fingers up his arm. “Once we finish cleaning up, do you want to spend the night?”

“Oh, sorry. I said I would go to my girlfriend’s place after you finished cleaning up.”

What…?

What?

What?!

“Y-your… Your what?” you looked at Yunho with wide eyes. “I think I must’ve misheard you… Did you say your friend’s place?”

“My girlfriend. I’m going back to her place.”

You laughed. Yunho was probably pulling your leg. He probably meant it in that teasing way— that he was going to go back to his girlfriend’s— your— place after everything was cleaned up. But, when Yunho looked at you in confusion, you stopped laughing.

“Yunho, what do you mean by girlfriend?” you asked him, the air around you starting to get chilly.

“The girl I’ve been seeing,” Yunho replied nonchalantly. “We started going out a week ago.”

“You mean… You’re seeing someone else?”

“Someone else? Y/N, what are you talking about?”

Your jaw dropped. Your braincells were scrambling to come up with some sort of way to figure out what the hell your current situation was, but you were losing it. Yunho confused the complete shit out of you.

“T-then what are we?”

“What do you mean? We’re friends,” Yunho’s eyebrows furrowed as he faced you.

“I thought we were…” you cleared your throat. “I thought we were dating.”

“You… What?”

“I thought we were in a relationship, Yunho,” you started getting a little confrontational with the guy.

“Why would you think that?”

“I— What?!”

“Y/N, we were just fooling around. I thought you knew that. How could you think we were in a relationship?”

“What the fuck do you mean?!” your voice started to shrill. “You think I would do shit like this with just anyone?!”

“I told you from the very beginning that I wasn’t looking for a relationship,” Yunho explained, his voice calm.

“Oh, but now you are in one, and you didn’t bother to tell me?! How long have you even been seeing this girl?! And Why does she get to be in a relationship with you when you said you weren’t looking for one in the first place?!”

“What is your problem? Why are you getting so upset?”

“Because I love you?!” you looked at Yunho in complete disbelief, your voice officially loud as fuck. “I’m in love with you, Jeong Yunho!”

“Oh…” Yunho looked slightly embarrassed— but he looked more embarrassed for you than of himself based off the look of pity on his face. “I’m sorry, but I’ve never had those feelings right from the start.”

You gaped at the tall man. All the words, all the wind, everything got knocked out of your lungs. You were absolutely frozen in space and time as you stared at the man you thought you knew, the man you thought was in a relationship with you, the man you thought was in love with you. You remained standing still as Yunho’s phone rang. He looked at his phone and let out a little sigh before returning to your gaze.

“It’s my girlfriend,” Yunho said, not a single shred of irony or regret in his tone. “I’ll… I’ll see you around, Y/N. Happy birthday.”

And just like that, your “relationship” came to an end, the man leaving you at the balcony as he rushed to go be in the arms of the girl he actually was in a relationship with. You didn’t move a single millimeter even when Wooyoung, Yeosang, and Seonghwa all approached you, the same painful expressions painted on their face.

Before any of them could touch you, San pushed them aside and grabbed your hand, leading you to some of the ottomans near the lounge chairs. He sat you down and placed a large, warm hand on your back, showing you that he was there for you. Tears pricked your eyes as your best friend continued to comfort you.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“Fuck.”

Hot tears slipped out of your eyes and rolled down your cheeks, but you weren’t crying or sobbing. No, you were letting the anger out in the form of tears. You weren’t sad— you were pissed.

And San knew that, but that didn’t stop him from giving you a hug, the warmth from his embrace dissipating in a heartbeat into the rage burning on your skin.

“I hate to say it…” San whispered. “But I told you so…”

You wanted to punch San, but he was right. He did tell you. So, you let out a sardonic laugh and accepted his hug, your fingers pressing into his muscles as your wild emotions wrecked your brain and your heart.

“Yeah,” you replied bitterly. “You did.”

Some fucking birthday.

"Is that really necessary?" you asked, stepping through and into the circle of people that now surrounded them.

"Is that any of your business?" the bully asked with an eyebrow raised, one hand gripping Kai's collar just above the ground so that he was on his toes.

"You don't seem to care about minding your own business, so why should I?" you asked, stepping closer. The crowd around you had gotten quieter when you'd entered, but other than being one of the smartest students in school, no one really cared about you.

You didn't have much of an impact.

Still you spoke with confidence.

"Leave him alone."

He sized you up in an uncomfortable way for a moment before throwing Kai to the ground without a second thought and coming towards you.

"Cute," he chuckled menacingly, "Okay, I did it. Now you owe me."

He stood toe-to-toe with you, towering above as if to intimidate you. You weren't, but realistically, you should have been.

You could smell his breathe as he breathed into your face, "What are you going to give me now?"

"You're pathetic," You spat, "You can't get people to like you for your personality so you turn people who can't fight back into a spectacle, and you can't get girls to look at you, so you have to manipulate them like this, huh?"

His eyes darkened in a scary way and he suddenly grabs your wrist with a bruising force as you try to pull away.

"You think I'm afraid to hit some nobody girl?" he asked.

Yes, you did think that.

You were proven wrong as he reeled his fist back. You didn't flinch for yourself, no, but in an almost instant, there was suddenly an even taller body in front of you and the crowd went silent as Taeil's fist met the chest of the person protecting you, a single wheezing cough escaping them.

That was when you flinched.

You looked up and saw a face that probably everyone in the school knew.

Jeong Yunho.

This was, honestly speaking, most girls' dream scenario. Jeong Yunho valiantly protecting them against a bully was probably the one shared daydream of every girl and gay in school.

But as much as you'd dreamt of it, never once did that dream include him getting hurt.

And the impact was loud. Taeil had to hope that his devastating punch didn't seriously injure the school's golden boy and star soccer player, because the consequences otherwise would be bad for him.

Yunho didn't say anything as Taeil looked up at him, seething. Taeil simply scoffed and walked away. The crowd parted for him, all staring at Yunho to see how he'd react.

The school bell rang just in time. You let out a breath of relief and soon remembered Kai who was still on the floor. You went toward him quickly, kneeling down to assess him.

"Are you okay?" you asked him, and he nodded, shaking out his hair.

"I got two sisters at home. I'm used to this," He tried to joke, and you clicked your tongue, "He's an asshole."

"Yeah," he agreed. You stood up and found that his elbow had been scraped pretty badly during the fall. "You should go to the nurse," you said, "I'll take you."

You then turned to Yunho who was looking at the ground with an indiscernible expression, rubbing his chest thoughtfully. "You too."

His eyes snapped to yours, and he looked surprised, "Me?" You nodded, "He hit you hard. Come on."

Yunho didn't argue, and you took both him and Kai to the nurse's office.

Thankfully, Kai's only real injury was the elbow, and the nurse took him first, patching him up quickly and sending him back on his way to class.

You patted his arm with a soft smile, "Be safe, okay?" "Yeah... thanks, y/n."

"Now, what's happened to you?" the nurse asked Yunho. Before he could open his mouth, you responded.

"He sustained a really hard impact to the chest," you told the nurse, "Like if it was aimed at his head, it would have been a concussion for sure."

"Oh dear," the nurse said, "I'll have to find my stethoscope. Wait here, kid. You'll have to open your shirt up a bit when I come back, okay?"

Yunho nodded obediently, glancing at you as the nurse went to go find her tool. "Are you going to be a med student?"

"No," you replied, crossing your arms, "My mom was, though, and she wanted me to be a doctor. I didn't really have an interest, but I learned a lot." He nodded, just looking at you after that.

"What?" you asked him after he stared at you for too long.

"It was cool what you did," he said, when prompted, "Standing up to Taeil."

"I think it was the bare minimum," You breathed out, picking at the nails on your hand, "I wish people would have shut the fuck up when they saw him hit Kai."

You looked at him, "I wish you'd have stepped him before he got hurt."

Yunho was a little flabbergasted by your indirect accusation, but he couldn't help but smile, looking down and shaking his head in amusement.

"What's so funny?" you asked him.

"I would have," he said honestly, "I wasn't there when the whole thing started. I stepped in before I even knew there was a girl in the circle."

You stared at him for a moment. "I'm serious," he said, "I- I don't like to intervene, but I try not to let that stuff even start in front of me. It doesn't really ever escalate to violence when I'm around."

You were quiet for a moment before you pursed your lips together.

"I'm sorry," you said. Yunho shook his head again, "Don't worry about it. Your anger is valid."

"I'm also sorry that you got hurt because of me," you said, your expression looking a little devastated.

Yunho suddenly grabbed your hand, revealing your wrist to both of you and the dark bruise that you'd sustained from Taeil.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't there sooner," he said, pointedly. You opened your mouth to argue, but then realized his meaning and he let go of your hand to point at you, smiling, "Got it?"

"Yeah," You said, your shoulders releasing their tension, "But still, you got punched really hard. Does it hurt?"

"I'm trying not to think about it," he joked, closing one eye as he pretended to wince.

"I saw you rubbing your chest," you said, "And you coughed. He knocked the wind out of you."

"And I think that's all it was," he said honestly, "I'll probably bruise, though. I'm like a ripe peach."

He paused at his own words. He'd said it so earnestly that you couldn't help but let out a laugh. He grinned victoriously, ignoring his embarrassment at his stream of consciousness.

Suddenly, he looked at you with a more tender expression.

"Have we ever talked before, y/n?" he asked.

"We spoke once before the third-grade winter recital. My aunt complimented your solo, and you complimented my tree costume," You said, and he gaped. "No way. We definitely talked before."

You tried not to let it tug at your heartstrings, the memory of the last time you'd talked to him.

You were going to tell him, but suddenly the nurse came back and you stepped away from Yunho.

"Found it. I don't have to use it often, so it was hiding from me," the nurse chuckled, coming over.

Yunho made quick work of the top buttons of his shirt, revealing his undershirt. He pulled it away from his skin so that the nurse could check his heartbeat against his skin.

You winced when the bruise under his collarbone was revealed.

Yunho didn't like the sad look on your face when you saw his chest. That wasn't the desired look from any person who saw another person naked. Not that you were seeing him naked or that he'd be disappointed if you did look like that if you saw him naked or that he was thinking about what you'd look like if you saw him naked-

He really needed to get his stream of consciousness under control. Thankfully his mouth was closed.

"You seem fine," The nurse said, "But do you feel any pain? Any broken ribs or heart palpitations?"

"No," he said, "I think I'm okay to go back to class."

"Okay," the nurse said, "You're all good to go, then. But be careful next time. If you were hit as hard as your friend says you were, it could have been a lot worse."

"Yes ma'am," Yunho said, saluting and hopping off the cot.

"Thank you, ma'am," you said to the nurse, bowing slightly, and she smiled, "No problem. Glad you're all okay. Head to class, now."

You and Yunho walked out of the nurse's office together, and when you were a good way away from the office, he stopped and turned to look at you.

"Can I assume that you're going to the field trip to Oscorp tomorrow?" he asked. You tilted your head at him, "Of course. I'm trying to score an internship there, I need as bulky a resume as I can get."

"Of course you are," He chuckled, "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, then."

"You're coming?" you asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah," he said with a casual shrug, "I'm a yearbook photographer, so-"

"You are?" you asked, the inflection of your voice going up with interest.

"Yeah, I know it's stupid, but-" "Why would it be stupid?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Yunho was now the one confused as if him being in the yearbook club was obviously stupid. "Because I'm a soccer player."

"What movie are we in?" you scoffed, "You can like other things."

Yunho blinked once before smiling, "Thank you." "You thanking me is stupid," you rebutted, and he chuckled, "Noted." You nodded affirmatively.

"Okay, then. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, waving before heading off to his class...which was in the opposite direction that you'd been walking in.

You were puzzled for a moment before you realized he'd been walking you to your class and just wanted an excuse to talk to you a little longer.

Your heart beat loudly in your chest.

Holy shit, you aced that conversation.

You were going to throw up from the nerves and simultaneous giddiness.

You think your suaveness came from the adrenaline that standing up to Taeil gave you, because you'd otherwise never have been so confident while talking to him.

You opened your phone immediately to text your aunt. There was no way you were going back to class after that victory. You skipped all the way home.

In the morning, you were the first one at school, dressed immaculately and looking like the smartest person in the building.

You wanted this internship more than anything.

You wished you had friends to enjoy the trip with, but you were the type of person who's education came first. You just ended up getting a little too carried away and ended up with the top education but the least amount of intimate social connection.

Thankfully, a lot of your extracurriculars had you talking to people enough that your social skills didn't totally suffer.

You had a notepad, neat hair, and your glasses were placed perfectly on your nose.

When you stepped off the bus among your fellow students, you were lightly nudged in the back.

You turned to give the person a dirty look before you realized it was Yunho.

"Oh," you said.

"You didn't sit next to me on the bus," he pouted, walking next to you as the teachers guided all the students inside.

Obviously, he was joking, but you raised your brow, "Why would I sit with the staff?"

He gaped and you waved your hand as if dismissing him.

"Excuse me, Madam CEO of Oscorp!" Yunho was gagged and you laughed. He grinned at you, "You look the part, you know."

"Ugh, not what I'm going for, though! Lead Scientist is more like it."

Yunho lifted his photo, but you held your hand up in protest. "Wait until we get to their lab and take a picture of me in my future workplace."

"Give me a good quote for the yearbook, y/n," he said, taking out a tape recorder and holding it out to you to speak into.

You were going to say something, but suddenly you heard a snicker and you turned your head to see some girl rolling her eyes. She made eye contact with you at the end of her rude gesture and quickly looked away. You made sure she knew that you saw her.

"What?" Yunho asked, looking in the same direction as you.

"Nothing," you said, walking inside and ignoring his tape recorder for the time being. He still followed you with it running anyway. As future valedictorian (with only his friend in relative competition with you, but he was rooting for you anyway), a candid quote from you would be gold for the yearbook.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing what Oscorp has been working on," you told him, "I want to see what direction my research in college should go in based on what they've been working on."

"That's interesting, I didn't even think of that," Yunho said thoughtfully.

"I'm very prepared for my future, Yunho," You said, "I want to contribute to great things in the field of science."

"Anything in particular?" he asked. "Cancer research would be cool, I think," You said, thoughtfully, "But honestly, I think I'd find fulfillment as long as I was in the lab."

You and Yunho walked in with everyone. He occasionally left your side to take posed and candid pictures of students as well as the facility itself. He was diligent, you had to admit. He looked more natural doing this than even playing soccer.

Although, he'd honestly probably look natural and perfect doing literally anything.

When the tour guide walked the group into the lab, you quickly made your way to the front. You were the only one in your class who was interested in this mandatory class trip, after all.

Yunho was already clicking photos of you from the moment you'd gotten into the lab.

Part of being a photographer was picking a good subject, and even though he hadn't really known you or looked at you much since you'd met in elementary school, he found it regrettable because you were so expressive.

He came up next to you from behind and spoke quietly in your ear. "We're in the lab now. Do you feel fulfilled yet?" he joked.

But you were nothing but serious, breathing out, "Yes."

Yunho looked at you surprised. Another thing about you was that you were so refreshingly earnest in everything you said.

He was a little shocked at himself for not befriending you sooner. Sure, you were quiet, but you seemed to be quite outgoing when given the opportunity. When really was the last time he'd spoken to you?

"Next we'll be showing you our latest project regarding genetically modified spiders, so please, if you're squeamish, please feel free to wait out in the hallway," the tour guide said.

You nudged Yunho, "Better get out of here before a spider crawls up your back."

"I should be saying that to you, milday," Yunho chuckled, "You're not scared of spiders?"

"I- Spiders are useful bugs," you said, thoughtfully, beginning to walk again with the now smaller group of students, "I think I am least scared of them than other bugs, but... I hate any bugs that are big enough to hear the crunch when you step on them."

Yunho looked at you with an unreadable expression, "Gross."

You couldn't help but laugh, "Yeah, exactly."

"Well, don't worry, I'll step on them for you," he said, "I'm not scared at all."

"Good for you," you hummed, "But I don't think it's in my best interest for you to be stepping on the painstakingly genetically modified spiders in this multi-billion dollar funded lab."

"True," Yunho chuckled.

Yunho couldn't really digest what the head scientist of the program was trying to explain about what they were doing with the spiders. He heard something about DNA and human compatibility, but he wasn't really paying attention.

Your focus was purely on the information, though. You didn't take it too seriously considering that they'd likely be on to other projects by the time you were to come work here, but you were proud of yourself for understanding everything they were saying. You truly felt that you belonged here.

And Yunho could see that. He snapped a photo of you listening to the head scientist the moment you had the realization.

Finally, the group was given time to take a look at the provided exhibits that the lab had prepared just for this trip.

"This grass spider hunts using a set of reflexes with nerve conduction velocity so fast that some researchers believe that it almost borders on pre-cognition. An early awareness of danger. A spider sense," the woman said.

Now that got Yunho's attention.

You saw it on his face and smirked. "Cool, isn't it?" you asked, "That's science."

"Hey, I'm not stupid. I know science is cool," he defended himself, "It just becomes more obvious when it's explained to me like I'm stupid." You had to stifle your laugh. He gestured his camera at you, "Can I take a picture of you? With the spiders?"

"Ugh, this is not what I want my legacy to be in the yearbook, Yunho," you said, going to stand by the spiders anyway.

You looked at them when suddenly the head scientist came over to you and spoke, startling you a little.

"These are the fifteen genetically modified spiders that have resulted from the RNA configuration of at least three different spiders each," she said to you, and you looked at her and then back at the spiders in awe.

"Amazing," you said, "You said you were looking into human genetic compatibility? What's the end goal for that, if I may ask?"

The head scientist looked amused, "Do you work here? You fit in so well."

"Oh, I really hope to one day," You said humbly. "Are you interested in spiders?" she asked, and you shook your head, "No, not particularly in spiders, but I think any progression in science is amazing."

"I can tell. You were the only one engaged in my presentation for the entire duration," she said, "The spiders were bred specifically for further advancement in the medical field, meaning that we've amazingly made it so that which was once deadly is now enhancing for humanity."

You looked at the sparkle in her eye. She seemed to be so passionate about the work she was doing here. She looked back at you, a fond look in her eye, "Here."

She went into her pocket and handed you a card. A business card?

You looked shocked. "We need more people like you on our team," she said, "Please give me a call after graduating. I'd love to have you on for an internship to see if you'll fit in here."

"Oh my goodness, thank you, ma'am," you said, sincerely, "You will definitely hear from me."

"I look forward to it," she said, "Enjoy the rest of the tour."

She turned to walk away and you looked at Yunho, who looked equally as shocked and excited as you did, taking a picture of your bizarre expression.

"Did you just see that?" you asked him, trying not to squeal.

"Congratulations future Head Scientist of Spiders at Oscorp," he chuckled, holding his hand up. You slapped it excitedly, your high-five louder than you expected it to be, gaining the attention of some staff and students that heard it.

You pressed your lips together in embarrassment, avoiding eye contact by looking back at the spiders, taking in each and every one before furrowing your brows. "Huh."

"What?" Yunho asked. "She said there were 15 spiders... there are only 14."

"Maybe they're doing tests on that one," Yunho suggested, and you hummed, thoughtfully.

"Can I get my picture, now?" he asked, and you huffed, "You've taken a hundred pictures, Yunho."

"Come on," He said, "I need at least one posed photo."

"Okay, then how about I take a photo of you?" you said, taking his camera.

He gaped, before chuckling, "Fine. You win."

"Yeah, you have enough pictures of me, buddy. You can't use all of them in the yearbook," You said, switching positions with him and holding up the camera to your eye. You took the opportunity to just look at him in the viewfinder.

He was so beautiful. He was making a silly face at the spiders, pretending to be scared straight by them. You pretended to zoom in and out for the sake of prolonging time, but in reality, you were studying his face.

For an insecure moment, you felt stalkerish. You lowered the camera before even taking a picture. You didn't think you cold capture the way you felt about him in a photo.

You were overthinking. So much that you didn't realize that the crawling feeling on your neck until you felt a sharp and painful pinch.

You yelped, smacking the back of your neck and looking at your hand. There was nothing there.

"Are you okay?" Yunho asked, coming over, concerned.

"Y-yeah," You stuttered, but you didn't think you were fine. You held it in, not wanting to make a scene. Yunho held you steady, taking the camera back and putting it around his neck. You brushed him off, shaking your head, "No, I'm fine. Don't worry."

But Yunho could tell something was off. You were quiet for the rest of the tour. You hid your trembling hands and, for the most part, avoided Yunho for the rest of the trip.

You disassociated even until you got on the bus, sitting on a seat alone as Yunho watched from afar, wondering if you were okay.

He took your arm when you'd gotten off back at the school, "Hey, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," you said, smiling disarmingly, "I'm just in awe. Today was incredible."

"Yeah, it was," he said with a smile, "I have a lot of proof of that in my camera."

"I look forward to seeing the photos in the yearbook," you said, "I'll see you, Yunho."

Yunho could tell your vibe was off, and he wanted to ask about it. The two of you had an innate chemistry that he'd come to really like over such a short period of time, but that didn't mean you were close. It didn't mean that he had the right to ask.

He was sort of regretting not knowing you better sooner as he watched you walk away.

Your Aunt May ran to the front room of your house when she heard the door. "Babe! How was your trip?" she asked, "You're gonna tell me and Ben all about it over dinner, right?"

"Uh, maybe not today, Aunty," You said with a sigh, "I'm not feeling too well. I think I have a fever."

"Oh, no," she said sadly, "I'll tell your uncle to bring some medication on your way home."

"Thank you," you said, going into your room and locking the door.

You didn't expect this, really. Honestly, you thought you were going to die when you first got bit by whatever it was in the lab. You figured it was a spider that had escaped, but you also figured that they'd have a more competent hold on their spiders. Plus, you'd been paying attention. All of the deadly spiders were in their places, and the only one that was missing had been the genetically modified one: one that the head scientist had assured you was for medical benefit.

So why did it hurt so bad?

You spent the night tossing and turning, your eyes filled to the brim with tears as you bit your pillow to stop yourself from screaming.

Something was happening inside of your body. It felt like you'd just gotten an extremely experimental vaccine and was now feeling the side effects. You felt like your muscles were contorting, your skin was shifting, and even your organs were getting mutilated.

You thought you were going to die.

And if only you'd been more proactive earlier; you thought you were just freaked out from the spider bite, and then you thought it was just a fever that would pass. There was no way a highly acclaimed lab was going to allow a deadly spider to escape while high school students were touring its campus. But there was also no way any normal ailment felt like this.

You don't know when you fell asleep, but you were still sweating the next morning. You couldn't get out of bed, trembling when you attempted to even raise your arm, but at least the pain had subsided into an uncomfortable tingle. Your aunt had come in multiple times, but you pretended to sleep. She left painkillers for you that often did nothing when you did have the strength to get up and take them.

And you definitely couldn't go to school. Friday rolled around and Yunho was seriously worried about you. "What is up with you?" Mingi had asked him when he'd kept looking around the lunch room.

"Nothing," Yunho murmured, "I made a friend earlier this week, but I think they're out sick. I didn't get their number."

"They're? So it's a girl," Mingi said with a smirk, and Yunho rolled his eyes, "Yeah, a girl, but just a friend. She's really cool. I think you'd like her."

I think anyone would like her, Yuno thought.

Finally, on the following Monday, a full week had passed, and you could finally get out of bed without an ounce of pain.

Your aunt had insisted for the whole week that you should go to the hospital, but you refused. You hated hospitals, and some part of your intuition told you that you'd be fine.

And you were right.

You got out of bed and felt a tightness in your core that hadn't been there before. Your body, once a bit softer, had suddenly become dense as you felt yourself up and down through your thin shirt.

You looked into the full body mirror in your room and saw your arms. They'd grown. It wasn't an absurd about, but you tested your movement, and found that it was fluid.

It wasn't that you were entirely unfit, but the ease with which your arm did a large circle was as if you'd been a gymnast for years.

"Huh?" you vocalized out loud. There was no tightness in your joints even though you'd been in bed for seven days straight. Even your neck did a clean roll as you stretched it.

You took off your shirt and looked at yourself.

You were never one to think about your sexuality, so there was never a moment where you had ever looked at yourself naked in a mirror and thought about your body. It was just never your focus. You'd been thinking about school and nothing else for the better part of ten years.

But now, as you stared at your newly formed abs, you didn't know what to say. You couldn't stop staring.

Your body looked insane. Like you were a fully grown adult athlete when you'd just been a soft-bodied teenage girl a week ago. There was no way this could be healthy. A muscular body that came from a week of suffering and no food?

You went to touch the mirror but the moment you lifted your palm, suddenly a substance was released from your wrist, hitting the mirror with a force so great that it shattered on impact.

It was loud, and you could hear your aunt running towards your room from across the house louder than you'd ever had before.

"Don't come in!" you yelled preemptively, covering your chest with your arms in case she barged in anyway.

"Are you okay?" when she yelled out, you realized that she wasn't even close to your door, but you'd heard her get up as if she was right outside.

What the hell is going on?

"Yeah, my mirror just fell!" you yelled, "You can go back to bed!"

"Okay, baby. Let me know if what you want for breakfast! Are you going to school today?"

"Uh... no!" you replied, "Is it okay if I stay home for one more day?"

"Fine by me!"

You stared at yourself in the shattered pieces in the mirror, looking like you had eight eyes and eight legs when you realized.

Did I turn into a spider?

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