mickey

“You know, staring at him any harder won’t get him to fuck you.”

Your gaze hesitates to pull from Jiung, who stands across the club at the bar looking unbelievable in all black under strobing lights. 

You turn to glare at Keeho across the booth. Your glare sharpens even more when you realize just how insufferably good he looks in that black tank and bomber jacket slipped low on his shoulders. 

“You sure?” You raise a brow. “It worked with you.”

Keeho snorts, pointing the lip of his beer bottle accusingly at you. “Hey. We were both desperate and lonely that night.”

Well, he’s not wrong there. Jiung had introduced his new girlfriend to your group that night at the pub, the very girl that Keeho had been crushing on for months. 

One look at him, at that dejected looking in his eye mirroring yours had led to a wordless, frantic night where you’d poured your frustrations out into each other. 

And multiple nights after that… to this day. 

To your defense, Jiung still hasn’t reflected any interest back at you even though he’s single again. How else are you supposed to spend your lonely nights?

You look back to where Jiung waits for drinks, thrumming his hands awkwardly on the counter as he glances around. 

You’ve been working up the courage to go up to him for a few minutes now. You don’t understand why it’s so difficult for you—if you weren’t such a coward, maybe something would have happened by now. 

“Fuck it,” you huff before tossing back the last of your martini, slamming the glass back down with vigour. “I’m going in.”

Keeho beams at you, raising his bottle. “That’s my girl!” He yells a little too loudly, voice a tad too liquor loose. “Go get him.”

You roll your eyes despite your smile, his cheer infectious as you rise to your feet. But then you see the situation unfolding at hand and sit your ass right back down. 

There’s a girl sidled up in Jiung’s space. Short, dainty, cute.

“What is it?” You can hear Keeho asking but you can’t bring yourself to answer him. 

Jealousy burns hot and ugly in your gut when Jiung points his awkwardly charming grin down at her, answering whatever flirty question she was surely throwing at him with those batting eyelashes. 

You quickly turn back to stare at your empty glass, trying to keep your fraying heart together. It doesn’t matter how many times this happens, it never gets any easier. 

And Keeho can’t stand it, that defeated look on your face. 

He stands abruptly, bumping the table on the way and you jump at the sudden sound, eyes snapping up to him. 

“What are you doing?”

“You a favour,” Keeho says with a grin, leaning down on his palms to hover over your face. “Gotta wipe that pout off your face somehow.”

You blink, forcing your expression to smooth. “What? You don’t have to—“

“I’ll do it for a price,” he interrupts, his grin growing wider. “Meet me in the bathroom in ten?”

You can’t help your grin. Of course he wouldn’t willingly have a conversation with Jiung without a price. Not a charge for helping you, but more so because he can’t really stand the guy. 

Which speaks to how far Keeho is willing to go just for you.

Your smile sobers into something more grateful. “Just don’t scare him away.”

He flicks the tip of your nose affectionately and straightens. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Keeho takes a breath, rolls his shoulders back and marches in. He hones in on Jiung’s shy, giggly expression as he closes in from across the bar, his own expression souring. 

It makes him sick to his stomach, to watch Jiung put on his nice guy facade and make all the girls fall for it. It sometimes feels to Keeho like he’s the only one who sees past the smoke and mirrors for what Jiung really is—an emotionally detached control freak. 

What the hell do you see in this guy anyway?

Whatever it is, it’s not his business. He has one job—to sabotage, and he does it well. And if it gets you to stop feeling shitty about yourself, he will gladly butt in there and make a situation wildly uncomfortable. 

You watch from your shrouded seat as Keeho intercepts the conversation smoothly, throwing his arm around a miffed Jiung who stares at him befuddled and a little angry. 

You can’t tell what Keeho’s saying, gesturing animatedly and jostling around a helpless Jiung, but the girl’s smile slowly fades away as she subtly steps back. 

You have to bite down on your lip to smother your smile. It’s horrible, you know it, but you’re not above being selfish. 

The girl leaves shortly after, and only when she’s gone do you see Jiung’s expression drop to something cold and angry as he pushes Keeho off of him. 

It takes you aback—to see his pretty face twisted up so unfamiliarly. 

But you don’t get the chance to mull over it or see what happens next because Taeyang and Intak crowd your vision and butt into your space. 

“You’re still sitting here?!” Cries Intak, his hands clamping down on your shoulders as he shakes you. “Come dance!”

“Intak,” Taeyang warns, elbowing him. “Don’t subject these poor people to that.”

You glare up at Taeyang’s snickering grin, shoving Intak’s sweaty hands off of you. “Fuck you,” you snap, leaning back to look past his tall frame to continue watching the scene you’d unwittingly incited—only to see that Keeho and Jiung are no longer there. 

“Where’s ever’one else?” Intak asks as he slips down onto the seat beside you, his body swaying under his alcoholic spell. 

You shove him off when his body slumps against you. “I don’t know,” you grumble, glancing down at your phone when it lights up with a Pokémon GO notification to see if there were any messages from Keeho. 

There’s none, but the clock tells you it’s time to meet your end of the deal with Keeho. 

“Bathroom,” you announce as you grab your phone and slip out of the booth, Intak’s body thumping down onto the seats without your body to hold him up. 

“Don’t drown!” Taeyang calls noncommittal after you as you swerve through the swarming bodies. 

Your mind reels with what might have gone down with Jiung, but you suppose you should save your questions for after you blow Keeho. 

But you get stopped short at the door of the bathroom when you hear low, familiar grunts through the barrier. 

You blink. Did Keeho find another girl? That might be record time. 

You’re about to step away and leave him in peace when you hear another voice, higher and whinier and… masculine?

You blink again. Oh, you think to yourself, good for him. 

You turn to leave again, but then you’re stopped again at the words you hear. 

“…you knew she’s been into you this whole time,” you hear Keeho say, his voice rough and breathy. “And you didn’t do a damn thing. It’s fucking pathetic.”

Your heart pounds. Is he talking about…

“Well maybe if you were fucking her I would have.”

Your heart stops, the words not even processing in your head. That’s Jiung.

“Ow, fuck!” You hear him hiss, and you’re hit with the sudden realization that the noises you heard were them fighting.

And you couldn’t have been more wrong. 

Because there they are, Jiung and Keeho, the two people in your friend group always at each other's throats, trying to shove their tongues down each other’s throats.

Your brain has stopped working. The image doesn’t quite process in your mind, of Keeho pushing Jiung harder into the grimy wall, of him pulling Jiung’s head back by the hair to dig his teeth into his lips, of Jiung’s eyes rolling back as he lets out a guttural moan, his hips rocking up to the thigh Keeho has shoved between his legs. 

Of pushing hands and biting kisses and choking fists. 

You consider shutting the door and turning around and throwing yourself into a vat of acid. 

Instead,

“What the fuck?”

Jiung bristles immediately at your voice, ripping away from the kiss with a startled noise as he tries to push Keeho away without success. When he sees it’s you though, he freezes completely, his fists tightening at Keeho’s shoulders, watery eyes going wide. 

You stare at him. That’s all you can do with the storm of confusion, betrayal, and a hint of unprecedented arousal swarming messily in your head. 

Keeho is the last to react, lifting slowly from where he’d started mouth at Jiung’s jaw. He looks at you with a lazy grin, if a little sheepish. 

“Surprise?” He says, scrunching his nose. “Turns out Jiung’s not only into you but he’s—“

Jiung slaps his palm over Keeho’s mouth, glaring at him. “Can you not?!”

Keeho stares back. “It’s a little late, don’t you think?” He muffles against his hand. 

Jiung’s gapes, mouth opening and closing as he tries to put together something to say, anything really, but he comes up short. 

So he opts instead to look at you again, at your indifferent expression, and prays that you don’t completely despise him now. 

“So let me get this straight,” you start slowly, putting the staggered pieces together because you need to make some sense of… of whatever this is. “Jiung… you like me?”

Jiung can’t do anything but give a meek nod, unable to look you in the eye. 

“…and you like Keeho?”

Keeho winks at Jiung when he looks up, to which Jiung squeezes his hand tightly around Keeho’s face getting a pained grunt in return. 

He nods again, keeping his gaze averted. “Yes,” he finally says, his voice thinning out. “But—but I figured you guys were together and I just thought…” He trails off when Keeho slips away from Jiung’s hand and leans back in, pressing a low, warm kiss to his neck. His train of thought gets completely derailed as the presence lingering in his gut reminds him again of what almost was. “I-I didn’t…”

He trails off with a soft moan as Keeho takes his hips again and rocks his aching cock down on his muscled thigh, his brain completely rewiring to focus on the pleasure instead. 

You watch, almost entranced as Jiung shudders and wraps his arms around Keeho’s broad shoulders, taking over and starting to grind himself down at a more eager pace. 

You lose your train of thought too, quickly forgetting whatever it was you were so wound up about. Does it even matter now when you get to see him all blissed out like this, cheeks flushed and hair messy and making out with your fuck buddy?

Keeho’s voice snaps you out of it. 

“C’mere,” he beckons you with a hand stretched out for you, that sly smile on his just a little warmer as he points it to you. 

You step forward and take his hand, letting him pull you into their tangled bodies. 

You can’t really focus when Keeho pulls you into a slow, indulgent kiss. You try for his sake, pressing back half heartedly, but your eyes are open and stuck on Jiung as he mouths at the hinge of Keeho’s jaw, panting into him as he keeps rutting needily against Keeho’s leg. 

Your attention gets pulled when Keeho nips at your lip, making a dissatisfied grunt that finally gets your attention on him. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you give into his pull; you came here to pay him back in the first place. Though you're not sure if it even counts anymore, you’re not one to go back on your word since he did technically succeed. Whatever, you can figure it out later. 

You lose yourself quickly to the kiss as it grows hungrier and more frantic by the second, Keeho’s tongue sliding against yours in a familiar, heady rhythm, his hand sliding down to your ass to hold you firmly into his side. 

You nearly forget the other presence—Keeho has a good way of melting away every other thought but him when he’s with you—until you feel a pair of lips, soft and light, brushing timidly against your cheek. 

You break from the kiss with a soft gasp at the sudden touch, turning to see Jiung startling away and burying his face into Keeho’s other shoulder. 

“S-Sorry,” he says quickly, his body trembling. Though whether it’s from the arousal or nerves, you don’t know. 

Keeho pays you both no mind as he starts trailing his mouth down your neck, like it’s his way of giving you two a little privacy, ridiculously enough. 

Jiung peeks out at you before quickly looking down again, and it fills you with such a sudden force of aggression from how fucking cute he really is like this, that you grab his chin and pull him into you. 

He grunts as his lips crash painfully into yours, mouth parting with a gasp when you immediately bite down on his lip. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, smiling against his lips at the wide eyes he watches you with. “You can make it up to me.”

And make it up he does, on his knees in front of you moments later with his mouth buried into your cunt while Keeho fucks you from behind. 

It was a blur leading up to this predicament, with your hands braced against the dirty walls, bent over Jiung on one leg with a knee propped on his sturdy shoulder while Keeho holds you in place by your hip and pounds his cock into you with no mercy. 

His thrusts are brutal as his hips snap into yours, punching noises out of you each time that go muffled into the tight hand he has over your mouth. 

“You’re so fucking loud,” Keeho hisses into your ear, pushing his cock all the way in and rolling it as deep as it can go with a low grunt. “You want the whole club to know what you’re doing right now?”

You whine into his hand, shaking your head rapidly as you heave at the little reprieve you get. But then he starts up again, even harder this time, pushing your clit right over the tip of Jiung’s nose with each thrust. 

Your eyes roll back and fill with tears at the overwhelming sensation.

Your sobs go unanswered as Jiung wraps his lips around your clit and sucks, his round eyes peering up at you over your short skirt and watching every little twitch in your expression. 

He wants to be the one fucking you right now. But he can settle for this, fisting his aching dick as he lets his tongue unravel you on Keeho’s cock. 

“Pretty,” he muffles without much thought, his brain too filled with pretty moans and the sweet taste of you on his tongue. “Sound pretty,” he says again, before fixing back on rapidly flicking his tongue over your throbbing clit. 

You moan needily, legs trembling as your body struggles to keep upright. 

Keeho laughs over your shoulder, slowing down to deep, grinding thrusts that don’t help you in any way. 

“Doesn’t she?” He coos. “To think you could’ve had this a long time ago if you didn’t have such a dumb little brain.”

Jiung whines at the words, faltering against you, but you hear the slick sounds of his hand fisting his cock start speeding up. 

Keeho chuckles, low and amused as he reaches around to grab Jiung’s hair and push his face further into your heat. He sighs when he feels the wet slide of Jiung’s tongue flick momentarily against his cock as he starts to lap at where he’s connected to you. 

“Don’t cum yet, Jiung,” he warns, giving his head a short pat before he takes your hips with both of his hands, pulling out until the swell of his tip stretches your entrance. 

He preens at your pained whine spilling freely into the air when he starts to just tease his tip in and out of you, just toying with your hole. 

“We’ve got a lot of catching up to do,” he says, then slams in right against that gummy spot in your walls that makes you scream out, see stars, and come all over Keeho’s cock and Jiung’s face. 

Jiung only laps faster at your dripping cunt, drinking up your arousal that seeps out with Keeho’s cum as he spills into you with a choked grunt. 

Keeho fucks into your pulsing cunt a couple more times to ride out his high, letting out a shuddering breath as he slips out of you. 

Through his own haze, he preens when he hears the slick sounds of Jiung’s eager mouth fire up even more, and he takes advantage of your state of pure, mindless euphoria to reach down to your cunt and scissor you open, letting your mixed arousals pour freely onto Jiung’s seeking tongue. 

His head spins at having you both reduced to this; animalistic, filthy, fucked out and brain dead to everything except pleasure. 

If Keeho had known that insulting Jiung to his face and dragging him into a closed corner would get the both of you like that in his bed every other night, he would’ve done it ages ago. 

But then again, he wouldn’t change a damn thing.

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With how often Yunho was around, you got to know the slightly older man as well. You formed a bumpy friendship–jealousy preventing you from getting too close at first. Over time, you got over it and accepted him as a part of your life with Mingi, falling into a routine with the two of them. 

The three of you would often hang out in the apartment you shared with Mingi, whether it was to play video games, watch movies, or just sit around. It started out with small actions that made you feel seen by Yunho. Your favorite snacks brought without you having to ask, explanations of inside jokes when he saw confusion on your face, and small unexpected gifts like he would get Mingi when he had bad days. 

Mingi didn’t think anything of it, knowing Yunho would do the same for him. In fact, he became thrilled at the idea of the two of you getting closer. He even encouraged you to turn to Yunho if he was ever too busy to answer. He didn’t see how he could be upset at the idea of his two favorite people becoming friends. Even when Yunho started to tease you like he would, Mingi didn’t think anything of it. 

As harmless as it was at first, you didn’t miss the small smirks Yunho would send your way. The glances when he believed Mingi wasn’t looking, or even the small brushes when walking past you. A tension growing between the two of you, that you weren’t sure what to do with. 

Coming home from work one day, you couldn't help but tense up hearing both of their voices as you entered your shared apartment. You kicked your shoes off and dropped your bag down on the kitchen table, exhausted after the long day. 

“Hey, baby. How was work?” Mingi called from the living room. He was enthralled in some game you didn’t care to learn about with Yunho, the two clearly battling. 

“Fine, just long.” You answered as you grabbed a drink from the fridge. Entering the living room, you waited beside the arm of the couch, not wanting to interrupt their match. Mingi sat closest to you, Yunho was in the arm chair on the other side of the couch. 

“How’d the project go?” Yunho asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. 

“Good, finally got the one executive to drop his impossible idea.” 

“Told you, he’d come around. My baby’s too pretty to argue with.” Mingi spoke with a proud smirk causing you to chuckle. 

“Yes, I’m sure he changed his mind cause he thought I was pretty.” You couldn't help but roll your eyes at the thought.

“Do we have competition with your coworkers now? We’re-Mingi’s gonna have to show them you’re off limits.” Yunho spoke, trying to correct himself quickly. 

Your eyes widened at his insinuation, the innuendo not lost on you. You felt yourself tense up as you glanced at Mingi, who was now biting his lip–at Yunho’s words or just in concentration you didn’t know. His eyes hadn't left the screen in front of him as far as you had seen.

Yunho glanced at you again, a red tinge to his ears. His eyes strayed from the screen just a second too long, giving Mingi the advantage he needed to end the match. Mingi let out a cheer at finally winning, before placing his control down and extending his hand out to you. You set your drink down, placing your hand in his. 

“Come here, baby.” He spoke softly, eyes meeting yours as you did as he asked. You moved to sit by Mingi, your legs across his lap as he gently massaged your calves. You didn’t glance at the other man as you closed your eyes and relaxed into your boyfriend’s massage.

Yunho cleared his throat before you heard him stand. “She’s clearly had a long day, I’ll leave you two be.” You opened your eyes to see him gathering his stuff, avoiding eye contact with either of you. 

“You don’t have to, we can play another round, right, baby?” Mingi asked, looking at you for a moment before turning back to Yunho. 

“I’m sure, take care of your girl.” He answered before you could even open your mouth, eyes drifting to you at the end. There was something in his look, it was familiar to you, but not from him. 

Desire. A muted fire as he clearly fought to push it down.

You stayed still until he finally made his way to the door and made a swift exit. 

Mingi glanced between the two of you, biting his lip. He couldn’t deny the attraction building between the all three of you, but just like you, he didn’t know how to act on it. He didn’t know what to say or how to address what was happening. He wasn’t sure it was something you wanted, let alone Yunho. 

You entered a standstill where Yunho continued to push further and further. Tension building with each visit he had to your apartment. You weren’t sure how to approach the subject, not wanting to upset Mingi with the interest you now held for his best friend, or vice versa. 

Enter Wooyoung. 

Wooyoung wasn’t around as often as Yunho, but had become a more frequent guest recently. Often joining the two in the gaming sessions, or some other random hang out. However, the few encounters that the three of you had with him were enough for him to grasp an understanding of your dilemma. 

He had a perceptiveness as he watched the three of you interact. Something akin to a hawk watching his prey. He caught on to your attraction to both men. 

The adorable embarrassment that broke out as Yunho mercilessly enjoyed teasing you. The seemingly lack of care that Yunho had for Mingi or anyone else being in the room when he did it. He also caught on to Mingi’s excitement at watching the two people closest to him not only get along but thrive in each other's presence.

Wooyoung could tell you wanted to say something, to quit walking the tightrope between the two. However, what he didn’t know is where the line was drawn only having an outside perspective of the situation. 

“So, have you three fucked or something?” Wooyoung asked one evening after following you into the kitchen. 

You almost choked on your drink at the blatant question. “What?! No!” 

“Oh, don’t be like that. You three are thirsting after each other like a fucking camel in the desert.”

“I don’t–”

“Spare me the denials. Everytime Yunho flirts with you, I swear Mingi gets a fucking hard on and you make heart eyes at both of them more than San does to Yeosang.” He spoke with his arms crossed, leaning on the counter next to you. A knowing smirk was on his face as a heat rose to your cheeks. 

You felt pinned to the spot, the hair on the back of your neck standing on edge. Your eyes glanced at the exit from the room, wondering if he would block you from taking it. 

“Woo, just drop it please.” You pleaded after a moment dropping your head so as to not see his face. 

“Oh, I can see why they tease you…” He spoke and you snapped your head back up to meet his eyes. “You’re so pretty when you beg.” 

“Not you too.” Your head fell, avoiding eye contact once again. 

“Not sorry, you’re just too cute.” 

Rolling your eyes, you attempted to head back to the living room. As you passed Wooyoung, his hand caught your wrist. 

“I can help, you know? I see what you want, I can be that final push.” He told you, smirk on his face as he glanced between your eyes and lips. 

“Why would you do that? What's in it for you?”

“A night of fun if I play my cards right, and the bonus of getting rid of the weird tension between you three.” He answered honestly, dropping your wrist with a shrug. 

The gears in your head started to turn at his idea. Your boyfriend wasn't the easily jealous type, not with his friends anyway. Yunho though? Different story. Could Wooyoung really be the catalyst to get one of them to act–to admit to what they truly want?

“How do you want to do this?” You finally asked after a moment.

“You're down?” 

When you nodded he couldn't stop the laugh that spilled from his lips. 

“Orai! We'll do it naturally. Just storm out of here like you were going to after I teased you. Trust me to take care of the rest.” 

Giving him a nod and taking a deep breath, you moved to leave the kitchen with a huff.

You planted down on the couch next to Mingi, burying your head in his chest with a groan. Your cheeks red, with embarrassment, and you held a disbelief in your actions. Were you really trusting the younger man to push you all together, just like that? 

You felt Mingi chuckle before you heard it. “Everything okay, baby?” He asked as his hand dragged through your hair. You moved to glance up at his face. 

“Yeah, just Youngie being a menace.”

“Ah so nothing new.” Yunho joked as he continued the video game he was playing from the armchair next to you. 

“It’s not my fault she looks hot when she blushes. I mean look at ‘er” Wooyoung spoke, now leaning on the wall separating the kitchen and living room. His arms were crossed as he bit his lip, eyes not leaving your form. You felt Mingi tense under you as Yunho let out a chuckle of disbelief, pausing his game and placing the controller down. Wooyoung’s eyes flitted between the three of you, watching the reactions with a playful smirk. 

No one spoke for a moment, an awkward silence filling the void.

“Well, that’s interesting. So Yunho can flirt all he wants but the minute I do, you get all tense?” Wooyoung asks with a scoff, a hand coming to rest on his hip. 

“I don’t–”

“He doesn’t–”

“Bullshit.” Wooyoung stopped the older men’s arguments before they could even start. You sat up to give Mingi space as he started to fidget under you. 

“Don’t try to deny it when I could cut the tension in here with one of your shitty knives.” 

Mingi scoffed and readjusted himself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“So you’re not hard right now?” 

Wooyoung had him, caught red handed. Mingi stayed silent, ears turning red as everyone turned to face him. 

“Wait, you’re really–”

“Shut up!” Mingi barked before Yunho could finish his question. 

“Dude, it’s okay. Had you– I would've– We could’ve–” Yunho struggled with his words until Mingi cut him off.

“Could’ve what?” He gave a slight chuckle in disbelief. 

“Could’ve fucked.” Yunho answered bluntly, eyes locking with Mingi's.

“Dude, I don’t just want a one night stand.” 

“Then what do you want?”

“I– Fuck I don’t know, which is why I never said anything. How can I explain what I want when I don’t know? Let alone what you two want.” 

“We can work that out, man. Just let me–” 

“Just fuck already.” You had almost forgotten Wooyoung was there until he approached. However, you remember his words–his reason for still being here.

“Why so you can watch?” Yunho fired back with a smirk. 

“You gonna let me?”

“That's not for–” Yunho trailed off as he glanced at Mingi. Mingi who was back to biting his lip. A desire burning in his chocolate orbs as he met Yunho's gaze once more. 

“Well, that just leaves you, baby girl. What do you think?” Yunho asked, eyes not leaving Mingi's, as if locked in a silent conversation only those two understood. 

“I'm open to it, so long as both of you are.” You answered, glancing between the two.

“Yeah? You want all of us? Want us to share you?” Mingi asked softly, eyes searching your face. 

Biting your lip, you nodded, eyes not leaving his. 

“Words baby girl, or this goes no further.” Yunho spoke up, causing your eyes to snap to his. 

“I want this. All of it, whatever it is.” 

Mingi darted forward lips capturing yours in a searing kiss. Closing your eyes, you leaned into him. His hand coming up to cup the side of your head as his tongue teased your lips. You let him in, tongue barely fighting back as Mingi dominated the kiss. Desire burned through your veins and you moaned into his mouth.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Wooyoung spoke and Mingi pulled back with a chuckle. 

“Just wait, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” His eyes glanced between the other two men in the room. 

“Should we take this somewhere more comfortable?” Yunho asked and earned nods from across the room. 

“Bedroom, baby. Be ready for us. We’ll be there shortly.” 

You stood and felt Mingi tap your ass on the way past as he watched you make your way to the hallway. Entering your shared bedroom, you quickly stripped down to just your underwear before sitting in the middle of the bed. 

Your thoughts drifted as you fiddled with the bed sheets beneath you. It only took a moment for doubt to claw its way into your thoughts. Doubt that maybe they didn’t want this, didn’t want you, that maybe they figured out Wooyoung's plan and found it off putting. 

However, those thoughts were quickly pushed back as the doorway filled with the familiar bodies. 

“Look at that, she listens so well.” Yunho commented as he brushed past Mingi to enter the room. He went to the far side of the bed while Mingi moved to kneel on the edge closest to him. 

“Told you she’ll be good for us.” Mingi spoke, eyes meeting yours as his hand came to rest on your ankle. “Want a run down for what’s about to happen?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Thought you would,” He chuckled as he rubbed soothing circles into your ankle. “Yunho’s gonna lead tonight, what he says goes, he knows your safe word but may also use the stop light system. You remember both?” 

“Yes, twilight or red for stop, yellow for slow down, and green for keep going.” You answered, earning a hum of delight from Yunho who was working his way behind you on the bed. Wooyoung made his way into your line of sight at the end of the bed. 

“Good girl.” Mingi praised with a smile. “Ready?” 

“Yes.” You answered softly. A hand came up from behind to softly cup your jaw. Yunho's chest pressed into your back as his legs came to rest on the outside of your own.

“Yes, who?” Yunho asked, causing you to tear your eyes from Mingi’s. 

“Yes, sir.” You quickly corrected seeing the dart glint in the older man’s eyes. He chuckled with a nod as he let go of your jaw. 

His hands trailed down your sides, moving to your thighs to pull them over his legs and expose you to the two in front of you. The dark spot already spreading on your thin panties doing little to hide the desire filling you. Mingi’s hand started to drift up, but didn’t get anywhere near where you wanted him, causing a whine to fall from your lips. 

“Don’t whine, baby.”

“Fuck, she’s soaked.” Wooyoung spoke as he moved lower to get a better view. 

“Oh, yeah? Dirty girl, we haven’t even touched you yet.” Yunho spoke as his hand drifted to the top of your panties. 

Hooking his fingers into the thin material, he carefully pulled them off your legs, groans leaving the men in front of you as they stuck to your core for a moment. Leaning into Yunho, you felt how affected he was, his hard cock pressing into your back.

“Look so pretty, I wanna taste.” Wooyoung spoke up, moving on to the bed. His hand rested on your other ankle. 

“Yeah, wanna prep our girl for us?” Mingi asked with a smirk. 

“Get your little slut ready?” Yunho added, as his hands slid up and down your sides. His eyes locking with Mingi’s for a second. 

Wooyoung glanced between the two taller men, eyes holding a silent plea for permission from either one. Yunho's legs stretched yours open just a little more, giving him a slight nod. 

Wooyoung moved quickly, as if afraid Yunho would steal you away. He crawled up to lay himself between your legs. His eyes met yours, a smirk on his face as he dove in. Flattening his tongue he lapped at your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. He then slowed down, his tongue exploring more, as he tried to find the spots that would make you a mess. His tongue moves down, pushing its way in, lapping up your essence as his nose bumps your clit.

A moan tumbled from your mouth, head falling back on Yunho's shoulder. 

“Oh, she liked that… Hmm, imagine riding his face, bet you she'd look hot.” Yunho spoke with a smirk, glancing at Mingi.

“Maybe some other time.” He answered and you turned your head toward him. 

Some other time? 

With all three of them?

Wooyoung's words rang around your mind, just a night of fun. This wasn't the same for him as the other two in the room. Either they didn’t know that, or didn’t care. 

Before you could think too much about the implication of his words, Wooyoung used his hands to spread your lips and teased a finger at your entrance. Slowly pushing his finger in, you moaned as he curled it a few times. Pulling it out, a second finger joined shortly, beginning to thrust, creating a pace to push you closer to the edge.

“God, she's so tight.” Wooyoung mumbled, glancing at Mingi. His thumb replacing his mouth for a moment. 

“Yeah? Just wait till she’s wrapped around you.” 

Wooyoung bit his lip, a deep groan muffled by it as he began a scissoring motion. 

Yunho's lips found your neck, sucking the sensitive skin as his hands moved to unclasp your bra. He then slowly dragged the straps down your arm, hands brushing down your arms. Throwing the material on the floor, his hands dragged themselves back up, leaving goosebumps in their way. His hands soon found your breasts, kneading the sensitive mounds. 

Moans continued to pour from your mouth as Wooyoung’s fingers brushed the spot he had been searching for.

“There it is.”

“‘Bout time.” Mingi chided, rolling his eyes as he moved closer to your head. His lips meet yours in a sloppy kiss. His tongue enters your mouth and easily takes control of the kiss. He soon pulled away, moving to your sensitive neck opposite of Yunho, before kissing down to your chest. Your hand moved to his belt, attempted to free the bulge growing as he sucked a nipple into his mouth.

Wooyoung hummed into your pussy, winding the coil in your core tighter as your other hand found his hair. Tugging him closer, he groaned again as he felt you clench. Your other hand grips around the outline of Mingi's cock, sending his groan through your chest.

Your eyes clenched shut as you crashed over the edge. Wooyoung's fingers gave a couple more thrusts before slipping out of your slowly. His mouth not leaving you as he slurps up the rest of your cum. 

You lost track of whose hands were where as they moved you to straddle Yunho. Legs on either side of his, you couldn't stop yourself from grinding into his growing desire. Your eyes crack open to watch his reaction.

Yunho’s eyes slip shut as he groans. His hands hold your hips still as the other two move behind you. You could hear clothes being removed, but kept your eyes on the man under you. 

“So greedy, you just came and you already want more?” He teased, slowly opening his eyes once more. His pupils wide as they stare into you. “Give me a color, baby girl.”

“Green, so fucking green, sir.” You spoke, desperation clear in your voice.

Your hands moved to his shirt, pulling at the obstructing material. He chuckled and moved to pull it off, throwing it to the floor. His lips then captured yours in a fierce kiss. He moved to lay on his back, pulling you with him. Your hands found his belt and began to unbuckle it. Making quick work of it and the button of his pants.

Yunho pulls away from the kiss to help you remove the obstructing materials. His erection curvses toward his abs, precum already leaking from the tip. You couldn’t stop the gasp that left your mouth. Wrapping your hand around his length, your finger tips didn’t quite touch. While his length was right there with Mingi’s you were definitely concerned about him fitting. 

“Is it bigger than you expected?” Yunho asked softly, wrapping his large hand around your own. He guided your hand to lightly pump him a few times as his other hand moving to your waist. You found yourself nodding as you moved closer to him. 

“It’s okay, he’ll go slow.” Mingi spoke now behind you. “He’ll fit, you can handle it, baby.” Mingi’s lips found your shoulder as he urged you closer to his best friend. 

“I’ll be slow, sweet girl. Still green?” Yunho asks as Mingi raises you up. You give him a nod as you untangle your hand from his letting him guide himself to your entrance. You leaned into Mingi, letting him hold you up as you slowly sunk onto Yunho’s length. The stretch causes your eyes to shut in pain, your hands finding Mingi’s and grasping tightly.

“Almost there, doll. Just a little more.” Wooyoung spoke from beside you, his hand moving to touch your clit. His lips kiss your cheek, pulling your attention away from the stretch for a moment. 

You moaned softly as your hips finally became flush with Yunho’s. You gave yourself a moment before moving your hands to his chest to lean forward. 

“Ready, baby girl?” Yunho asked and you nodded. “Use your words for me.”

“Yes, sir, please fuck me.” You begged, eyes meeting his dark orbs. He smirks as his hands replace Mingi’s on your hips. 

Raising yourself up, you moan as you sink back down. Yunho helps you create a rhythm as you move your hands beside his head. Your breasts bouncing with each rough thrust.

Mingi's hands move to your neck and slowly trail their way down your back. Upon reaching your ass, he gave it a light smack, jolting you forward and dragging a loud yelp from your throat. 

“Woo, hand me the lube. Top drawer.” Mingi spoke softly, and Wooyoung pulls away from you to open the nightstand and give Mingi what he requested. 

Hearing the lid pop open, you glanced over your shoulder to see your boyfriend smirking. 

“Gonna try something new, baby.” He tells you, gently pushing you forward. Your chest presses into Yunho’s. Yunho’s hands move to grip your ass, using it as leverage to move you, but also spread you open. You felt Mingi drip a good amount of lube down your back and to your other hole. The cool feeling causes you to clench down.  

“Oh fuck, so tight… I think you're forgetting someone though, baby girl.” Yunho spoke, bringing your attention back to him. His head tilted to bring your attention to Wooyoung.

He sat next to Yunho, biting his lip while slowly rubbing his hard on. His eyes followed your movements, hand moving in tandem with every lift of your hips. 

“Why don't you help him out while Mingi gets you ready?” Yunho suggested with a smirk. You nodded, your hand moving to replace Wooyoung's. 

You feel Mingi's middle finger start to make its way to your other hole, gently entering and earning a groan from Yunho as you tense once more. Your eyes meet Wooyoung's as you move your mouth to the head of his erection. 

Your tongue swirls around the tip before you lower your head to take him in your mouth. Hollowing your cheeks, Wooyoung groans as your nose brushes the hair around his base, his cock hitting your throat. His hand tangles in your hair creating a makeshift ponytail, as one of yours grips his tense thigh. You let him guide your head as you lose yourself in the sensations. 

“Look at her, already cock drunk.” Wooyoung spoke with a groan. 

“Mmm, so perfect like this, taking me so well. Such a perfect little slut.” Yunho whispered in your ear, dragging a moan from your throat. 

“Oh, fuck.” Wooyoung groans, throwing his head back once more.

A second finger thrusts into your ass causing you to pull back and suck in a deep breath. The pain of the stretch mixed with the pleasure of Yunho hitting the spot that had you seeing stars. Your eyes roll back for a moment, as Yunho's thrusts become harder. 

“I'm close, baby girl. Where do you want me?”

“Inside, please, inside.” You beg as Wooyoung's hand tightens around your hair. He taps your lips with his tip, prompting you to open your mouth again. 

“Yeah, dirty girl? Want me to fill you up? Have you stuffed full by the end of the night? Give it to me then, cum for me.” Yunho growls into your ear. You moan around Wooyoung's length as his pace increases. Yunho then began thrusting up harder into you. With Mingi still working you open, your eyes slide shut, thighs shaking as you crash over the edge.

Yunho wasn’t far behind. After a couple of thrusts, you felt him pulse as his release coated your walls. Wooyoung’s moans grew louder as he tumbles over as well, his cum pouring down your throat. He then slowly pulls out, telling you to swallow what was in your mouth. You do so, sticking your tongue out as proof. 

You then collapse onto Yunho’s chest. Mingi sucks in a breath as he pulls his fingers out and Yunho spreads you open for him. Glancing back at your boyfriend once more, you see a smirk spread across his face. A whine leaves your lips as Yunho gently pulls out with a light pop. You feel his cum start to pour out until Mingi quickly scoops it up with a finger and pushes it back in. 

“Is she good and prepped?” Yunho asked after a moment, looking over at his best friend. 

“Yeah, she’s ready.” Mingi spoke. His hands move to wrap around you, pulling you up and into his chest. He angles your head to capture your lips, noisily kissing you. You smile into the kiss, letting him take control and enjoying the feel of his plush lips against yours. There was a dopey feel to your movements, as though you were up on cloud nine.

“Wooyoung, you want next?” 

“Do you really need to ask?” Wooyoung scoffed as Yunho slipped out from under you, allowing the younger man to take his place. His cock was already hard again, hitting his abs as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Calm yourself or you won't be cumming again.” Yunho ordered. A dark glint now in his eyes as he stared Wooyoung down. Wooyoung's pupils dilated as he left out an involuntary whimper. He bit his lip as he stared up at Yunho. The noise causes you and Mingi to break apart. 

“Oh, you like that? Like when I put you in your place, you little brat?” Yunho taunted, hand moving to grip Wooyoung’s chin. A smirk spread across his face as Wooyoung could only nod. 

“Fuck.” Mingi cursed as he gripped himself. 

“You like that, too?” Yunho asks as he glances at his best friend. He let out a small laugh almost in disbelief. “All three of you are gonna be my subs? I'm spoiled.” Biting his lips he moved away from Wooyoung and closer to Mingi. 

The two shared an intense moment as Yunho tilted Mingi’s face toward his. Your boyfriend’s hands loosen around your body, carefully letting you lower yourself into Wooyoung’s embrace. You turned around in Woo’s arms to watch the two taller men. 

Mingi’s hand came up to grip the back of Yunho’s neck, their foreheads meeting. Their lips then crashed together like a tidal wave, a groan leaving Mingi as Yunho bit his lip. You couldn’t stop the whimper that left your own mouth at the sight of the two. 

“How hot is that? And you get to have both of them to yourself. How lucky are you, doll?” Wooyoung whispers in your ear, as his hands begin to trail down your body. His hand soon comes into contact with your clit causing you to moan and throw your head back against his shoulder.

“Did I say you could touch?” 

Wooyoung moved his hand away instantly as if burned, placing them just above your hips. Snapping your head up, your eyes met Yunho’s. His eyes then dragged down your body leaving a burning desire in its wake. Mingi’s eyes stayed locked on Yunho, all three ears waiting on his commands. The three of you were like puppets, Yunho your puppeteer, controlling the show. His attention turned back to Mingi. 

“Since you’ve been so good for me, I’ll let you choose. How do you want your girl?” 

“Let me have that tight pussy, please Yunho.” Mingi begged, causing your eyes to widen. 

You had never heard him beg before, at least not in the bedroom. He was always your dominant, making you beg and follow his instructions. You found yourself clenching around nothing and biting your lip in anticipation. 

“Take it. Take our dirty girl.” Yunho ordered, releasing Mingi. Despite everything around you, you noted that this was the first time Yunho had called you theirs and not just Mingi's. An omission that you would’ve thought about longer if not for Mingi moving in between your legs. 

Mingi’s left hand went to your hip while his right fisted his cock. He rubbed his tip through your folds a couple of times, coating himself in your juices before pushing in with a groan. You moaned, eyes meeting his as your hands moved to his arms at the overwhelming sensation. 

You became lost in the sensation—in him. There was no care in you as to whose hands were where, or that more than one person was touching you. Hands began massaging your chest, while someone else rubbed at your clit. Your thoughts only on the man in front of you as he set a fast tempo pace. Mingi bit his lip, focusing on the spot he knew would have you coming undone quickly. Only to be stopped by a hand on his chest. 

“Gonna finish her so soon? You didn’t forget about Woo again did you?” Yunho asks as he wraps himself around Mingi, eyes finding yours over his shoulder. 

Unable to find your words, you shake your head.

“Didn’t think so, our good girl. Woo, you gonna take her ass?” Yunho spoke, tone slightly condescending as his thumb continued to circle your clit slowly.

“Fuck yeah I will.” The youngest man answered, thrusting his hips to rub his erection against your back, where it was still pressed. 

“Then do it already, she’s close.” As Mingi ordered the younger around, you found yourself clenching down once more. “Shit, baby girl. You’re choking my dick, not gonna last if you keep that up.” 

Wooyoung grabbed the lube from where Mingi left it on the bed. You heard him pop open the lid, moving you forward to coat his member in a decent amount. He then aligned himself with your puckered hole. His hands guiding and helping you sink down on his member. 

“Fuck! So tight, gotta relax for me, doll.” 

“Breathe, baby. Let him in. Fuck can feel him filling you.” 

“Gonna take them so well, our good girl.” 

They whispered sweet words in an attempt to distract you from the burning stretch. Mingi had never taken your ass before, preferring the feel of your pussy’s tight velvety walls. He only now second guessed that decision, seeing the bliss on Wooyoung’s face before he was even fully flush with your body. Upon finishing sliding in, the two gave you a moment to adjust as you lean yourself fully into Wooyoung.

“Shit, can’t hold back anymore.” Wooyoung spoke after a moment, beginning to thrust up into you, his nails carving mini crescents into your hips. His thrust pushed Mingi in deeper, causing him to groan as he leaned over you a little more. 

“Look at her taking both of you. Sucking you both in, like she doesn't want to let you go.” Yunho teased. 

The two soon found a rhythm, moving so one was always filling you. Moans continued to tumble from your mouth as your eyes shut in pure bliss. You felt yourself sink into the feeling coursing through you, becoming somewhat unaware of what was happening around you. Body tingling from the pleasure coursing through it. 

“Wanna try something.” Yunho mumbled and Mingi suddenly stilled inside of you letting out a loud groan. 

Your eyes snapped open to see what was happening, noticing Yunho still behind Mingi. 

“Oh, fuck.” Mingi groaned as you heard the snap of Yunho’s hips. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Relax, Mingi.” It wasn’t hard to figure out what was happening, your eyes rolling back at the thought. The image of Yunho fucking your boyfriend being enough to push you over the edge, body spasming as you come undone.

“Shit, baby. Gonna… cum.” Mingi groaned into your shoulder as Yunho continued to thrust into him, jolting him into you more. Your sensitive walls clamping down around him. 

“Yeah, gonna cum for us, Min? Fill our girl up?” Yunho spoke into his ear, causing Mingi to groan more. 

“Holy shit, she's so tight. Fuck.” Wooyoung cursed as he tried to force himself to slow down, not wanting to come undone too early.

Curses tumbled out of Mingi's mouth as he all but collapsed on top of you. Your hypersensitive walls feel him pulse with each rough thrust from Yunho. It didn't take long till he was spilling inside you with a loud groan. Wooyoung's curses joined his as he tumbled over the edge as well. Their ropes of cum, covering your walls in white once more. 

Yunho stopped his thrusts, groaning as he slowly pulled out of Mingi to savor the feeling. Taking a moment to breathe, Mingi stayed where he was. His hands rubbing your sides, to soothe you or himself you couldn't tell. 

After a moment, Mingi pulled himself up and out. He helped to pull you off Wooyoung and you could feel the mess between your legs spilling onto the sheets. You couldn't find it in you to care though as you spotted Yunho sitting on the edge of the bed. A burning desire still in his eyes and he fisted his cock to the sight of you. 

“Color?” He questioned, noticing your eyes on him. 

“Still green, sir. Just sensitive.”

“Still want more? Even after all that?” He asked and you nodded, biting your lip. Your eyes dart between his clearly still hard cock and his eyes. You would do anything to help him with his problem once more. 

“Damn, insatiable.” Wooyoung spoke with a smirk as he laid to the side, seemingly spent. 

Mingi's eyes trailed your body, biting his lips as he looked at your swollen pussy. His cock twitched at the thought of going again, knowing your walls would wrap around him so well as sensitive as you were.

His eyes then moved to Yunho, taking in his form. His best friend had never looked more attractive. Pupils blown wide, biting his lips, with a hand wrapped around himself. Mingi was tempted to get a taste, but had a better idea as he looked at you once more. 

“Wanna take her pussy together?” He asked, voice rough. He wanted to feel both of you as he came undone. To have you wrapped around both of them like they were around your fingers.

Yunho's eyes reluctantly pulled away from yours to meet Mingi's. A smirk pulled at his lips as he released his lower lip from his teeth. A brow raised at the idea, seeing the hopeful desire on Mingi's face.

“Think she can handle it?”

“Know she can. Right, baby?” Mingi asked, looking at you once more. 

“Yes, please. I can take it.” The plea leaving your mouth without much thought. The two shared a look before moving. 

Mingi was now behind you, maneuvering you to your knees. Yunho moved in front of you, taking your arms and wrapping them around his neck. You clung to him as Mingi aligned himself with your entrance once more. 

Your eyes slid shut as you felt him push in. A moan fell from your lips as your nails dug into Yunho’s back. An overwhelming pleasure consuming you as he rubbed against your sensitive walls once more. Once his hips met yours, Yunho’s hand cupped your jaw. Your eyes blinked open, meeting his dark chocolate orbs. 

“Color?”

“Green.” You answered without hesitation. 

“You sure baby, you’re gripping me pretty tight.” Mingi questioned, almost teasing as he rested his head on your shoulder. His arms wrap around you completely, holding you to him. 

“Yes, please. Ruin me.” You begged. 

Yunho hesitated for a second before placing his tip at your entrance. His eyes glanced between yours and Mingi’s, as if trying to drag out this moment. 

“Give her what she wants, Yuyu.” Wooyoung spoke, resting on his elbows, eyes just taking in everything in front of him. 

Yunho cursed and began to push inside. You couldn’t help but tense up at the new intrusion, your breath hitching. The stretch feeling almost too much, like they were going to tear you in half. Mingi cursed and groaned, the feeling of you clenching around him with Yunho rubbing up against him, having him closer to the edge than he expected. Yunho’s head fell forward, resting on your shoulder. 

“Relax, baby girl or I won’t get a chance to ruin you.” Yunho growls, holding on to what little control he still has.

“I’m trying.” You whined, feeling overwhelmed. The color yellow at the tip of your tongue. Discomfort and sensitivity almost too much for you to handle. Mingi’s arms being the steady anchor, grounding you.

“Don’t whine, baby. You wanted this.” Mingi growled into your ear. “You know what to say to make us stop.”

You stayed silent, not wanting to say it—wanting to see how this would go.

“Just take me,” Yunho muttered, not hearing anything from you. He continued to shove his way in. “Take us.” 

His hips snapped flush with yours. Your eyes rolled as you collapsed back into Mingi, hands still gripping Yunho’s shoulders. If you weren’t in a daze, you would be sure that you broke his skin. An overwhelming feeling of fullness washed over you. Your sensitive walls pulsing around them. 

Yunho and Mingi’s eyes met over your shoulder, the two giving you and themselves a moment to adjust to the feeling. Mingi’s arms loosen around you as his hand grabs the back of Yunho’s head, crashing their lips together again. 

Their kiss seemed to break you from the daze you fell into. You met Wooyoung's eyes, a lazy smirk on his face as he watched the three of you together. He moves to kneel next to you, fisting himself as his lips find yours. Your eyes widen, not expecting this from him. He pulls back and turns your attention back to pillars holding you up.

Watching as Yunho bit Mingi's plush lip, forcing them open so he could get a taste. Their lips dancing together in a beautiful mess. Wooyoung’s lips find your tender neck, abusing the skin there for a moment. 

Breaking apart, Yunho turned his attention to you. His lips crashed into yours and you felt more than heard the moan Mingi released. Wooyoung’s lips leave your neck as he moves closer to Mingi, giving his neck similar attention to yours. Mingi then gave an experimental thrust. Your moan spilling into Yunho's mouth, granting him access to your mouth. His tongue explored freely, his level of control to be admired as he soon joined Mingi. The two soon creating a rhythm that had you seeing stars.

You felt the daze return, the pleasure making you numb to everything else. Yunho pulled away from your mouth, allowing your whines and moans to spill freely into the air. 

“Gripping us so tight, fuck. What a perfect pussy. Not gonna last.” 

“Gonna ruin you for anyone else, just like you wanted. You're ours. Only ours.” Mingi growled into your ear. 

“Say it, say that you're ours.”

“I'm…your's!” You managed to gasp out, causing them to groan.

Your orgasm came crashing into you like a wave, quicker than any you'd ever experienced before. It felt like a dam had broken open as you squirted around their cocks, drenching the sheets below you. 

“Oh shit, she's gone.” Wooyoung spoke from over Mingi’s shoulder. 

“Oh fuck, gonna cum.” Mingi groaned. 

“Do it, cum with me.” Yunho commanded, their thrusts growing in intensity as he neared his peak. 

The two came crashing seconds apart, spilling into you, coating your walls in white once more. Your mind went blank as your body shook from the intensity. 

You weren't sure when they pulled out or who left to grab a towel, conscious only returning as Mingi carefully cleaned your legs from your mixed orgasms. A wince leaving your lips at the feeling. 

“There you are, had us a little worried for a moment.” He spoke when he noticed your eyes registering him. 

“Yunho? Wooyoung?” You questioned, not having the energy to look around. 

“Right here, baby girl, already miss me?” Yunho teased as he leaned over Mingi’s shoulder. He planted a kiss on his shoulder before resting his chin in the same spot.  

“Still here, doll.” Wooyoung spoke, head popping into your field of view. However, he was in the process of getting dressed, attempting to find his shirt in the different piles on the floor. His sweatpants hung low on his hips, v-line still on display for your viewing pleasure. 

“Leaving already?” You croaked out, voice rough.

Wooyoung hummed, pausing his search for a moment as he thought on what to say. “You three have some things to discuss, I’m just gonna give you the space to do so.” He spoke softly, finally finding his top and putting it on. 

A frown formed on your face as he then walked over to the bed and leaned over. “This won’t be the last you see of me, don’t worry.” He gave you a wink and then placed a kiss on your forehead, nodding to the other two as he left the room. 

After the door shut, the three of you sat in silence for a moment. Your eyes glanced between the two men as Mingi finished with the towel, throwing it toward your laundry bin. 

“Do you want a bath? We can start one for you.” Mingi offered, but you shook your head. 

“We should probably talk about this.” Yunho spoke softly, eyes glancing between the two of you. 

You hum in acknowledgement, moving to sit up slightly so as to be at the same level. 

“I think… I know what I want now.” Mingi spoke hesitantly, eyes down, looking at the bed. 

“And what’s that?” 

“I want both of you... I want you both to be mine, whatever that looks like.” He spoke, eyes glancing tentatively at Yunho. 

“And you baby girl? You want the same?” Yunho asked, eyes moving to you. 

You nodded, “Yeah, it sometimes already felt like I was with both of you. I just want the confusion and tension gone.” You admitted with a small smile. Mingi’s hand moved to yours, thumb rubbing over your knuckles as if apologizing for putting you through that. His eyes met yours and held a loving softness to them that had your heart melting all over again.

“I want you both too.” Yunho spoke, bringing your attention to him. “I used to think I was jealous of Mingi, thinking I just wanted you, but then there were times where I wanted to be in your place as well. I had thoughts of both of you, but after what Wooyoung did tonight, I realized I wasn’t necessarily jealous of either of you, I just wanted in. I just wanted both of you.” Yunho confessed.

“Fuck, we coud’ve done this so much sooner.” Mingi cursed, causing you to laugh. 

“Let’s not think about that too much. Now come cuddle.” You spoke, opening your arms to both of them. 

“You heard her.” Yunho joked as he moved. They wrapped themselves on either side of you, Yunho being a big spoon around you as you curled into Mingi’s chest. You knew by the end of the night he would end up the little spoon though, unable to resist having your arms around him.

Closing your eyes, you felt yourself start to drift to sleep. 

“I think we’ll need to properly thank Wooyoung, you know?” Yunho mumbled into your hair. 

The lamp on your nightstand cast a warm, half-orange glow across the room, the kind of light that made everything feel softer and sleepier than it actually was.

You were sprawled on your stomach, knees bent, feet kicking lazily in the air while your highlighter scratched across the pages of your notebook.

Music played low through your earbuds, another practice test. another set of formulas you kept rereading because your brain refused to focus.

It was 9:57 p.m.

You hadn't heard from Jungwon since he texted at eight saying he'd just clocked out.

No "on my way", no meme, no nothing.

Not that it surprised you. he did this sometimes—disappeared into his own world after work, especially on nights when the shift ran long.

A sharp buzz cut through the music.

You paused, pulling one earbud out. the doorbell rang again, impatient.

You sighed, rolling off the bed and tugging down the hem of your oversized sleep shirt.

The pajama shorts rode up your thighs as you slid your feet into fuzzy slippers. "coming" you muttered to yourself, already knowing who it was.

When you opened the door, Jungwon was leaning against the frame like he belonged there.

Gray sweatpants hung low on his hips, black t-shirt slightly damp at the collar from his possible shower. his cheeks were flushed, the tips of his ears redder than usual.

That familiar sweet-sharp scent of alcohol hit you before he even moved.

He smiled—slow, a little crooked, the one that always made your stomach flip even when you were pissed.

"Hi, baby" he said, voice low and warm, already stepping inside without waiting for an invitation.

His hand came up gently, palms cupping your cheeks like you were something delicate.

Before you could say anything, he tilted your face up and kissed you. not soft. not careful. the kind of kiss that tasted like decisions he'd made without you.

His body pressed forward, guiding you back until your shoulders met the wall with a quiet thud. one of his hands slid down to your waist, fingers slipping under the hem of your shirt just enough to brush warm skin.

You turned your head, breaking the kiss with a small push against his chest.

"Jungwon… you reek of alcohol" you complained, wrinkling your nose. the sharp, fruity alcohol clung to him even after the shower. "how much did you drink?"

He let out a soft laugh, forehead resting against yours. he didn't pull back. his breath fanned across your lips, warm and sweet.

"Not that much" he murmured. "just enough."

You slipped out from between him and the wall, closing the front door behind him with a click.

The apartment felt smaller with him in it—his presence always did that. you crossed your arms, leaning against the back of your couch.

"I thought you said you were tired after work. that you were just gonna go home and crash."

"I was." he shrugged, kicking off his shoes by the door. his eyes never left you. "then i started thinking about you. and once i start, i can't really stop."

He moved closer again, no concept of personal space tonight.

His fingers found the edge of your shorts, tracing the fabric like it was distracting him. you could see the glaze in his eyes, that hazy focus he got whenever the drinks hit just right.

He always got like this—needy, single-minded, like the entire world narrowed down to whatever part of you he could touch.

"Won, we talked about this" you said, voice quieter now. there was frustration there, but it was already mixing with something warmer, something that made you hate yourself a little. "i told you it bothers me when you show up like this. you said you'd slow down."

He hummed, not really agreeing or disagreeing.

Instead he wrapped his arms around your waist from behind when you tried to step away, chin hooking over your shoulder. his chest pressed against your back, solid and still radiating shower heat.

"I know" he whispered against your neck. "and i'm sorry. my phone died on the way here anyway. couldn't even text you i was coming."

His lips brushed your skin—light, almost innocent, except for the way his hand slowly slid up your stomach under your shirt. "missed you too much tonight. work was fucking long. all i kept thinking about was coming here… seeing you like this."

You exhaled sharply, trying to ignore how good his voice sounded when it dropped like that. "that's not fair. you can't just ignore what i say because you're drunk and horny."

"I'm not drunk" he protested softly, but the way he nuzzled into your neck said otherwise. "just… had a couple. enough to know i needed to see my girl."

His fingers traced lazy circles on your skin, suggestive but not demanding. not yet. "you're studying late again?"

You nodded, glancing toward your bedroom door. the orange lamp was still glowing in there like a beacon. "yeah. practice tests. i've got that big entrance exam coming up."

He made a sympathetic noise, but you could tell half his brain wasn't really listening.

The other half was busy pressing closer, hips shifting against you in a way that felt too intentional. his grip tightened just a fraction.

"You work so hard" he murmured. "proud of you. come here."

He turned you in his arms again, backing you gently toward the couch.

You let him—because saying no to Jungwon when he was like this was harder than it should've been.

He dropped down first, pulling you into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. his hands settled on your thighs, thumbs stroking the bare skin just under the hem of your shorts.

"Jungwon" you started, trying to keep your tone steady. "i'm serious. this thing with you drinking after work… it's getting old. i worry about you. and then you show up like this and it feels like you don't even hear me.”

He looked up at you, dark eyes softer now, almost pleading in that cat-like way he had. one hand came up to tuck your hair behind your ear.

"I do hear you" he said quietly. "i'm trying, baby. today was just… rough. needed something to take the edge off. but i'm here now. with you. that's what matters, right?"

You wanted to argue. you wanted to push him off and tell him that no, that wasn't what mattered—that his habit was starting to scare you a little, that the smell of beer on his breath made your chest tight.

But he was looking at you like you were the only thing that existed tonight. his fingers kept moving, slow and soothing on your thighs, and his other hand rested possessively at the small of your back.

"You're annoying" you muttered, but there was no real heat left in it.

He grinned, that playful, slightly tipsy smile breaking through. "yeah? still letting me stay though."

You rolled your eyes, but your hands had already found his shoulders, fingers curling into the soft fabric of his shirt.

He smelled like beer and his usual clean soap, a stupidly intoxicating mix. when he leaned in again, slower this time, you didn't stop him.

The kiss was deeper, lazier. his tongue brushed yours and you tasted the faint sweetness of the alcohol he'd had. it should've turned you off.

It didn't.

When he pulled back, his lips were shiny, breathing a little heavier.

"Missed this" he whispered. "missed you all fucking day."

You sat there in his lap, heart beating too fast, part of you was still annoyed—really annoyed—that he'd done it again.

That he'd brushed off your concerns with that soft voice and those gentle hands like he always did. but another, louder part was already melting into him, letting his warmth chase away the lonely quiet of your apartment.

"Stay the night?" he asked, voice low against your ear. his fingers slipped just a little higher on your thighs, teasing the line where skin met fabric.

Not pushing, just… reminding you he was here. solid. needy. yours.

You sighed, pressing your forehead to his.

"Yeah" you said finally. "but we're talking about this tomorrow. for real."

"Mhm" he hummed, already kissing the corner of your mouth. "tomorrow."

You knew he probably wouldn't bring it up first.

He never did.

But right now, with his hands on you and his attention wrapped completely around you like this, it was hard to care as much as you should.

You stayed in his lap for a long minute, the weight of his hands on your thighs keeping you anchored.

The beer on his breath mixed with the scent of his skin, was annoyingly comforting.

Eventually you shifted, pressing your palms to his chest to create a little space.

"You want something to eat?" you asked, voice still soft. "i have ramyeon or i can make you toast or something. you probably haven't eaten since work."

Jungwon shook his head slowly, eyes half-lidded as his fingers traced lazy lines up and down the sides of your thighs. his touch stayed light, but it was constant, like he couldn't help himself.

"Not hungry"he murmured. "no appetite right now." his hands slid higher, slipping under the hem of your sleep shorts to squeeze the soft skin there. "just want you."

You let out a quiet breath, trying not to react too obviously. he leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"I want to do it" he whispered, low and rough, the words warm against your skin.

Your stomach tightened. you sighed, half-frustrated, half-something else entirely.

"Jungwon… the last time we did it here, Mrs. Park from next door literally banged on the wall. she complained about the 'noise' for like three days after."

He let out a soft, amused chuckle against your neck, the sound vibrating through you. his fingers kept stroking your thighs, thumbs pressing in slow circles.

"Mrs. Park?" he smirked, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes. "she's probably pissed because she hasn't had dick in decades."

You smacked his chest lightly, trying not to laugh. "you're awful."

"What? it's true." his grin was playful, a little mean in that tipsy way. "but fine. if you're worried, you can bury your face in the pillows this time. or i can cover your mouth for you." his voice dropped lower. "i don't mind. i like when you're loud, but i can be good."

You exhaled sharply, shifting in his lap. the way he said it so casually, so confident, made heat crawl up your neck.

"Stop..." you said, trying to hold onto the frustration that was quickly slipping away. "showing up drunk and looking for sex every time you miss me. it's not fair, Won. i told you it bothers me."

His expression softened immediately.

The playful smirk faded into something gentler, almost vulnerable. he wrapped both arms around your waist and pulled you closer until your chest pressed against his.

One hand rubbed slow circles on your back under your shirt, the other resting high on your thigh again, fingers brushing dangerously close to the edge of your shorts.

"Baby" he murmured right against your ear, voice low and soothing. "that's not what this is. i would never come here just for that. you know me better than that."

He kissed the spot just below your ear, soft and lingering. "i haven't seen you since yesterday. all day at work i kept thinking about you. how quiet it gets when you're not around. i just… i need you. need your attention. need you to look at me like this."

His hand on your back slipped higher, tracing your spine with gentle fingertips.

The touch was intimate, almost tender. you felt yourself leaning into him without meaning to.

"I miss my girl" he continued, murmuring softly, lips brushing your skin with every word. "not just your body. i miss your voice, the way you laugh at my stupid jokes, the way you get all focused when you're studying. i just want to be close to you tonight. is that so bad?"

You swallowed hard. the guilt crept in even though you knew you weren't the one who'd been drinking. his voice was so convincing, so sweet and a little sad, that the anger you'd felt earlier started dissolving.

"I know you’re trying to study" he added, still stroking your back in that slow, hypnotic rhythm. "i can help you. i'll be your tutor for the night. we can go over your notes together." he smiled against your neck.

"And in return… you just have to kiss me. a lot. non-stop, actually."

You let out a breathy laugh despite yourself. "that's not really a fair trade."

"It is" he insisted, pulling back to look at you with those dark, slightly glassy eyes. his hand squeezed your thigh gently. "because i'm a really good tutor. and i'm very motivated tonight."

You could feel the tension humming between you—the way his body stayed warm and solid under yours, the way he kept touching you like he needed the contact to breathe.

Part of you still knew this was the same pattern: he drank, he got needy, he showed up, he smoothed over your worries with that soft voice and those careful hands.

But right now, with him looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered in his entire day, it was hard to push him away.

"Jungwon…" you started, but it came out weaker than you wanted.

He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your jaw, then back to your ear.

"Just let me stay close to you" he whispered. "please, baby. i'll behave..."

His fingers traced higher on your thigh again, teasing but not crossing any lines yet.

You knew you'd probably regret not pushing harder on the drinking thing tomorrow. but tonight? tonight it was getting harder and harder to remember why you were supposed to be mad.

You finally gave in with a small nod. "fine. but we're actually studying for a bit first"

Jungwon's eyes lit up like you'd just promised him the world.

He followed you down the short hallway to your bedroom, his hand resting low on your back the entire way, fingers occasionally slipping under the hem of your sleep shirt to brush bare skin.

You moved quickly, pulling the curtains shut tight, then pushed some notebooks aside to make room on the bed.

You climbed onto the mattress first, settling with your back against the headboard and pulling your laptop onto your thighs.

Jungwon dropped down right beside you, close enough that his thigh pressed against yours and his arm draped behind your shoulders.

"So" he said, voice low and interested, tilting his head toward the screen. "what's this for?"

"It's for my extracurricular p.e academy" you explained, opening the slideshow. "we have to do a very basic presentation on bones and muscles. how they work together, common injuries, basic anatomy stuff."

Jungwon nodded, genuinely attentive even with the alcohol haze in his eyes. "that's actually cool. i admire the hell out of you for still grinding like this when vacation's basically here. most people would've checked out already."

You shrugged, a little embarrassed by the praise. "the presentation itself is pretty much done. i just need to memorize the flow and not sound like a robot when i'm up there."

"Easy" he said confidently, scooting even closer until his chin almost rested on your shoulder. "i got you. let's go through it."

For the next twenty minutes or so, he actually helped. he listened while you ran through the main sections, then started quizzing you gently on the bone groups—nothing too intense, just the basics. "carpals… tarsals… what about the femur again?"

His voice was calm and patient, the same tone he used when he was completely focused on something he cared about. every time you got one right, his hand would reward you with a slow stroke down your arm or a gentle squeeze on your thigh.

But after a while the boredom crept in. you leaned your head back against the headboard and let out an exaggerated groan.

"Ughhh, it's so easy on paper but it feels boring as fuck when i have to say it out loud" you complained sarcastically, rubbing your temples. "i think i'm getting a stress headache just looking at these slides."

Jungwon watched you for a second, then reached over and gently closed the laptop.

He set it on the nightstand without a word, his movements smooth and deliberate. the sudden lack of the screen's blue light made the orange lamp feel even more intimate, softer.

"You look stressed" he murmured, turning toward you fully. one hand came up to cup the side of your neck, thumb brushing your jaw. "way too tense for this late at night."

You sighed, the sound heavier than you meant it to be. "maybe because someone showed up tipsy and keeps distracting me…"

He laughed quietly, the sound warm and a little raspy. without warning, he dipped his head and buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His lips brushed the sensitive skin there once, teasing, before he opened his mouth and started sucking—slow, deliberate pulls that sent little sparks down your spine.

You could feel the faint scrape of his teeth, the wet heat of his tongue as he worked on a spot that would definitely leave a mark tomorrow.

Your hand flew to his hair, fingers threading through the soft dark strands. you didn't pull, just held on, gripping lightly as your breathing changed.

"Jungwon…" you breathed.

He hummed against your neck, sucking a little harder before switching to a new spot just below the first. his free hand slid up your thigh again, higher this time, fingertips slipping under the edge of your pajama shorts but stopping just short of anything more.

"When Mrs. Park starts banging on the wall" you managed, voice shaky with a mix of amusement and heat, "you're the one explaining the noise. not me."

Jungwon pulled back just enough to look at you, lips shiny and curved into a lazy smirk.

His eyes were darker now, pupils blown wide. "don't worry about her" he whispered, voice low and rough. "i'll keep you quiet."

The way he said it hit you right in the gut. you literally felt your stomach flip, a deep warmth pooling low in your belly as your thighs pressed together on instinct.

The casual promise in his tone made your whole body react, a sharp throb of anticipation that made you shift on the sheets.

He noticed, of course. he always noticed.

"Yeah?" he asked softly, reading your face like a book. his hand on your thigh squeezed, thumb stroking dangerously close to where you were starting to ache. "you like that idea?"

You didn't answer right away, just tightened your grip in his hair. he took it as encouragement and leaned back in, kissing and sucking down the side of your neck while his other hand slipped under your sleep shirt.

His palm was warm against your stomach, sliding up slowly until his fingers brushed the underside of your bra. he didn't go further, just traced the edge, teasing.

The room felt smaller.

His damp hair, the flush still visible on his ears and cheeks, the way his gray sweatpants were starting to look tighter. you could feel how hard he was against your leg, but he wasn't rushing. he was savoring this, drawing it out on purpose.

"You're so pretty when you're trying to focus" he murmured against your collarbone, pressing a wet kiss there. "but i like you better like this… all soft and needy for me."

"I'm not needy" you protested weakly, even as your back arched a little into his touch.

Jungwon chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. "sure you're not."

His fingers kept exploring—light, feather-soft touches that promised more but never quite delivered. he nipped at your neck again, then soothed the spot with his tongue. "but you're letting me mark you up anyway. and you're not stopping me."

You tugged his hair gently, pulling him up so you could look at him.

His lips were red, eyes glassy with want and alcohol, but the way he stared at you felt heavier than just the beer. like he really had been thinking about you all day.

Like being here, touching you, was the only thing that mattered.

Still, that small knot of frustration lingered in your chest.

"You always do this" you said quietly, the words slipping out before you could hold them back. "drink, then show up, then make me forget why i was annoyed."

Jungwon's expression softened again. he leaned in and kissed you properly this time—slow, deep. when he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours.

"I know" he whispered. "i'm sorry, baby. i just… needed you tonight. all of you." his hand stroked your side soothingly. "let me make you feel good. we can go slow. i'll keep you quiet." he smiled against your lips.

"Whatever you need."

Your heart hammered.

His fingers kept moving—tracing your ribs, your hip, the waistband of your shorts—building that slow, aching tension without ever crossing the line you hadn't given him permission for yet.

The apartment was quiet except for your shared breathing and the faint city noise outside the closed curtains. Mrs. Park was probably already in bed.

Your notes were forgotten. the only thing that existed right now was Jungwon's warm body pressed against yours, his mouth on your neck, and the heavy promise of what he wanted to do to you.

He kissed you again, slower this time, like he had all night.

And you let him.

You pulled away from his mouth just long enough to stand up, legs a little unsteady. his eyes on you.

Jungwon seated on the edge of the bed, watching you with that heavy, half-lidded gaze as you crossed the room and clicked the bedroom door shut.

The soft snick of the lock felt louder than it should have.

You turned around and walked straight to him and swung a leg over his lap, straddling him properly.

The second your bodies aligned, his hands found your waist, pulling you down against him as your mouths crashed together again.

This kiss was different—deeper, messier, hungry.

His lips were soft but insistent, parting yours instantly so his tongue could slide in, hot and tasting faintly of alcohol. he kissed like he'd been thinking about it for hours: slow, filthy strokes of tongue, gentle sucks on your bottom lip, then deeper again, tilting his head to get a better angle.

Wet sounds filled the quiet room—soft clicks and low hums as saliva slicked between your mouths.

You could feel him breathing harder through his nose, his chest rising against yours while his hands roamed your waist, hips, and up your back under your shirt, fingertips pressing into bare skin like he needed to memorize every inch.

You gripped his hair tighter, almost desperately now, tugging the soft strands as you rolled your hips once against the hardness growing beneath you.

Jungwon let out a quiet, needy sound into your mouth, something between a whine and a groan, his fingers digging harder into your hips.

After what felt like forever—tongues tangled, lips swollen, breaths shared—you finally broke the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting you for a second before it broke.

Without asking, your hands dropped to the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down impatiently along with his boxers just enough to free him.

Jungwon let out a breathy laugh, forehead resting against yours. "thought you didn't want to do this while i'm tipsy."

"Shut up before i change my mind" you muttered, voice already hoarse.

He didn't argue. in one smooth motion he reached back and yanked his black t-shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor.

You pushed his pants and boxers lower, eyes dropping shamelessly to drink him in—his toned chest and abs, the sharp V-lines disappearing downward, and his cock, hard and flushed, resting heavy against his lower stomach.

You leaned in and bit down on his collarbone, not too hard but enough to make him hiss and whine softly under you, hips twitching up.

"Fuck—baby…"

Jungwon's hands moved with surprising gentleness despite the hunger in his eyes. he helped you out of your sleep shirt, then unhooked your bra with practiced fingers, sliding the straps down your arms.

His gaze softened with that familiar warmth as he looked at you—real affection mixed with raw want. he hooked his thumbs into your pajama shorts, pulling it down your legs.

When the fabric caught at your knees, he helped ease them the rest of the way off.

His eyes caught on your panties. a small, genuine smile broke through the lust.

"Are those new?" he asked, voice low and amused. "never seen you wear ones with little pinky bows before. if this was my early christmas present, i'm fucking lucky."

You huffed a laugh and turned around in his lap instead of answering, settling back against his chest.

You braced your feet on the cool floor, your ass nestled directly over his cock, grinding slowly back against him in a slow, teasing roll.

The position let you feel every inch of him—hot, hard, and throbbing—pressed between your cheeks while you moved.

Jungwon groaned quietly, the sound turning into a soft whine as his hands returned to your waist. his long, pretty fingers stroked up and down your sides and back, caressing your skin with reverence.

He didn't grab or rush. he just touched—tracing your spine, squeezing your hips, running his palms over the curve of your ass while you kept that lazy, sensual grind going.

Every roll of your hips made his cock slide against your wetness, coating him.

"You're so beautiful..." he whispered against your shoulder, pressing open-mouthed kisses there. "look at you…"

The grinding stretched on, slow and torturous.

Your breathing grew heavier, the slick sounds of skin against skin filling the room.

Jungwon's hands never stopped moving—gentle on your waist, occasionally brushing higher to cup your breasts lightly, thumbs grazing your nipples without fully focusing there yet. he was letting you set the pace, even as his cock twitched and leaked against you.

After several long minutes, his voice came out rough near your ear.

"You ready, baby?"

You turned your head just enough to look back at him, flashing a playful, wicked little smile. Jungwon let out a soft laugh, the sound melting into another needy whine as you shifted.

He reached between you, fingers carefully sliding your panties to the side without taking them off. the head of his cock nudged against your entrance, slipping easily through your folds. he groaned low.

"Baby… you're so creamy already" he murmured, voice thick with want. "all this for me?"

His hands settled firmly on your waist. you took a slow breath and began sinking down onto him, inch by inch, the stretch burning so good.

Both of you moaned quietly—his a soft, broken whine, yours more breathy—as you took him all the way until your ass was flush against his lap.

He filled you completely, pressing right against that spot that made your toes curl against the cold floor.

"Easy"Jungwon whispered, kissing your shoulder. "don't hurt yourself, okay? go slow."

You started moving—lifting up and sinking back down in steady, deep strokes, still facing away from him.

The angle was perfect; every downward motion dragged him against every sensitive part inside you. Jungwon wrapped his arms around your body, pulling your back flush against his chest.

One arm banded across your stomach, the other hand moving up to knead and tease your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers exactly how you liked.

"Touch me more" you breathed, voice shaky. "i want your hands all over me."

He obeyed instantly, like he'd been waiting for permission. one hand stayed on your chest, pinching and soothing, while the other slid down between your legs, fingers finding your clit with practiced ease.

His hips rocked up to meet yours, not thrusting hard but matching your rhythm so every movement hit deeper.

"That's it" he murmured, lips against your neck. "just like that, baby. you feel so good… so fucking tight and warm around me."

He kept talking in that low, quiet way—mostly soft instructions, mixed with those pretty little whines every time you clenched around him.

"You're doing so well… look at you taking all of me." his fingers circled your clit faster, the other hand squeezing your breast as he sucked another mark into your shoulder.

The position kept you completely full, every roll and bounce stimulating you from the inside while his hands worked your body from the outside.

Sweat was already starting to slick your skin where you pressed together. Jungwon's breathing was ragged against your ear, but he never rushed.

He just held you close, fucking you deep and steady, giving you everything you asked for while finally getting what he'd been craving since he showed up at your door.

The bedroom felt alive with sound.

Wet, filthy noises filled the air every time you sank down onto him — the slick, creamy sounds of your pussy taking every inch of Jungwon's cock.

You were soaked, embarrassingly so, and the way he stretched you left no room for anything else.

Each roll of your hips made an obscene squelch as he rubbed against your walls, the head of his dick kissing deep, right up against your cervix.

You leaned forward slowly, hands bracing on his thighs, chasing a deeper angle. the change made him slide against a new spot that had your toes curling against the cold floor.

Jungwon groaned, low and needy. his hands slid up your arms, fingers wrapping around your wrists for a moment before he tugged you back hard against him.

The sudden pull forced you down fully onto his cock, burying him to the hilt in one smooth motion.

"Ah—fuck" you moaned, biting your lip hard to try and stay quiet. it didn't work. the sound slipped out anyway, needy and broken.

"Shhh, baby… i know" Jungwon whispered right against your ear, voice sweet and raspy, laced with a whine. "you're taking me so deep like this. feel so fucking good squeezing around me."

He rocked up into you, grinding rather than thrusting, letting you feel every thick inch.

Your head falling back against his shoulder. "right there—… don't stop."

Jungwon let out a soft, pretty whine, the sound vibrating against your back. "yeah? you like it when i'm this deep?"

He kissed the side of your neck, sucking lightly while his hips kept that steady, filthy rhythm. "you're doing so well for me... but we're just getting started, okay? hold on for me."

The slap of skin on skin grew louder, wetter.

Every time your ass met his lap it made a messy sound, your arousal coating his cock and dripping down onto his balls. you tried to keep riding him properly, but your legs started burning, movements turning sloppy and desperate.

Jungwon noticed immediately.

Without warning, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you off him carefully but quickly.

You whimpered at the emptiness, but he was already guiding you down onto the bed on your back.

He settled between your spread legs, hovering over you. his larger frame covered yours as he caught both your wrists in one of his big hands and pinned them above your head against the mattress.

He looked down at you, eyes dark and glassy from the lust, but still so full of that soft affection that was so distinctly him.

"Gonna take care of you like this now" he murmured.

He reached down with his free hand, rubbing the swollen head of his cock against your clit in slow circles, teasing until you squirmed.

Then he lined himself up and pushed back inside in one smooth thrust, burying himself completely. the new angle made you arch off the bed with a choked moan.

Jungwon started fucking you again — fast and deep, hips snapping forward with precision. each thrust punched the air out of your lungs and made the wet sounds even louder in the quiet room.

He watched your face the entire time, eyes drinking in the way your brows furrowed and your lips parted with every stroke.

"… Look at you" he breathed, voice breaking into another whine as he drove deeper. "so pretty when you're getting fucked like this."

You moaned louder than you meant to. he quickly slipped two fingers from his free hand into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue gently.

"Suck." he whispered, voice sweet even as he kept pounding into you. "stay quiet for me, baby. just for a little longer.",

You obeyed, sucking on his fingers while he fucked you harder, the bed starting to creak softly beneath you. his whines grew a little louder, more frequent — those needy, breathy sounds that always slipped out when he felt really good.

He was trying to be quiet too, but the way your pussy clenched around him made it impossible.

After a few minutes he released your wrists, leaning down until his chest pressed flush against yours.

He buried his face in your neck, still thrusting deep and steady, now with more force. the new closeness let him grind against your clit with every stroke.

"Feels too good" he whined softly into your skin, voice yearning and desperate. "you're so warm… so tight. i can't get enough of you."

His hands roamed your body lovingly — stroking your sides, cupping your breasts, thumbs brushing over your nipples. never rough, always affectionate even while he fucked you senseless.

You couldn't help it. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as pleasure shot through you. your nails dragged down his back without meaning to, leaving red lines across his skin.

Jungwon moaned loudly into your neck — a broken, needy sound that made your stomach flip.

"Shit—baby" he gasped, hips stuttering for a second before he recovered, fucking you even deeper. "scratch me more if you need to… i like it. want to feel you."

You moaned directly into his ear, lips brushing the shell as your nails dug in again.

He whined again, louder this time, hips snapping harder. "yeah? right here?" he angled his hips and thrust up sharply, making sure the head of his cock dragged against that spot inside you.

"Love hearing you like this. love being inside you… like this is exactly where i belong."

The room was filled with everything — the wet slap of his hips meeting yours, the creak of the bed, your muffled moans and his pretty whines, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of your creamy pussy.

Sweat slicked between your bodies. his hair stuck to his forehead, ears still red from the alcohol and exertion.

He kept talking between gasps and soft moans, voice low and intimate.

You dragged your nails down his back again, moaning his name against his ear. Jungwon shuddered, letting out another long, whiny groan as he buried himself to the hilt and stayed there for a moment, grinding slow and deep.

"Don't stop" you begged breathlessly. "please, Won…"

"I won't" he promised, kissing your neck, your jaw, anywhere he could reach while still moving inside you. "not until you're shaking. not until you can't think about anything but me."

His hands never stopped caressing you— gentle strokes over your ribs, your waist, your breasts, like he was worshipping you even while he fucked you raw.

The contrast between his sweet touches and the way his cock kept stretching you open made your head spin.

Jungwon's whines mixed with your moans as he kept that steady, deep rhythm.

Jungwon's moans were getting prettier, more unguarded. those soft, breathy whines that slipped out every time he bottomed out inside you — cute little sounds that made your stomach tighten even more.

He readjusted carefully, pushing your thighs up until your knees were pressed to your chest, folding you neatly beneath him.

The new angle made everything feel impossibly tighter. your pussy clenched hard around his cock, squeezing him like it never wanted to let go.

"Fuck… baby" he whined low, the sound almost like a sweet complaint, filthy and needy at the same time. "you're gripping me so fucking tight."

He kept his voice hushed but raw, hips rolling steadily as he fucked you in this folded position. every thrust dragged against that perfect spot, the wet squelching sounds even louder now because of how soaked you were.

His cock bullied its way in and out, creamy arousal coating him completely and dripping down your ass onto the sheets.

You held your own legs against your chest, arms wrapped around your thighs to keep them open for him. the position left you completely exposed, helpless to do anything but take every deep stroke.

"Ah—Won… it's too much" you gasped, voice breaking. "feels so deep… i can't—"

"You can" he murmured, voice soft and raspy, that signature Jungwon tone — gentle even while he was buried balls-deep inside you. "you're doing so good for me." he groaned again, a pretty, whiny sound that vibrated against your skin as he leaned closer.

He was driving you right to the edge. yhat familiar pressure built low in your belly — the tight, heavy ache that made your toes curl and your thighs tremble.

It felt like you needed to go to the bathroom and like the pleasure was about to explode at the same time. your whole lower body tightened, clit throbbing, walls fluttering wildly around his cock.

Jungwon noticed immediately. his dark eyes flicked up to your face, reading every twitch and moan.

"Yeah? you're close, aren't you?" he whispered, picking up the pace.

His hips snapped faster, still deep but more insistent now, chasing your orgasm. "come on, baby. let go for me."

"I'm— fuck, Won, i'm gonna—" your voice cracked into a sharp, needy cry as the orgasm crashed over you. you couldn't hold it back.

A broken moan tore from your throat as you squirted hard, soaking his cock, his pelvis, and the sheets beneath you.

Your body shook, pussy clenching rhythmically around him while waves of intense pleasure rolled through you.

Jungwon pulled out quickly but gently, replacing his cock with two fingers that kept rubbing your clit in fast, tight circles. "that's it… good girl. keep going, let it all out" he cooed softly, voice full of sweet encouragement while prolonging your orgasm.

You kept gushing, thighs trembling violently as another smaller spurt left you.

He stroked himself between your spread legs, hand flying over his slick cock. his breathing grew ragged, pretty whines turning into desperate little sounds.

"Baby— i'm close too" he gasped.

When he came, it was with a gorgeous, broken moan — that signature soft, slightly husky voice cracking into a high, needy whine that melted into a deep, satisfied groan. "ahh—shit… mmh—"

The sound was divine, the kind of moan that made your core clench even after your orgasm.

Thick, warm ropes of cum landed across your stomach and lower chest, some even reaching the underside of your breasts.

He kept stroking himself through it, milking every drop while watching the mess he made on your skin.

For a moment the room was just heavy breathing and the faint wet sounds of his hand slowing on his cock.

But Jungwon didn't collapse on top of you. he stayed present, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, then your lips.

"You did so well" he whispered, voice soft and full of affection. "so fucking beautiful when you cum like that. i love watching you lose it for me."

He brushed damp strands of hair away from your face, eyes warm despite the alcohol still lingering in his system. "you okay, baby? that was a lot."

You nodded weakly, still catching your breath. "yeah… really good."

He smiled that cat-like smile and carefully climbed off the bed. "stay right there. don't move."

Jungwon walked over to your dresser, completely comfortable being with his dick out, and grabbed a couple of clean cloths from the drawer.

He came back and sat on the edge of the bed, gently wiping his cum off your stomach and chest with slow, tender strokes.

"Does that feel okay?" he asked quietly.

"It's fine" you murmured, watching him through half-lidded eyes.

When you were mostly clean, he leaned down and kissed your stomach softly. "want me to carry you to the bathroom?"

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. Jungwon pulled his boxers and gray sweatpants back on but left his shirt off, the faint red lines from your nails visible across his back and shoulders.

He slid his arms under you effortlessly —one under your knees, the other behind your back— and lifted you princess-style like you weighed nothing.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom. the cool air of the hallway made you shiver slightly against his warm chest.

He set you down gently on the toilet, making sure you were stable before stepping back a little.

"i'll go change the sheets while you're in here" he said, voice low and intimate, like he was sharing a secret. "where are the extra ones again?"

"Bottom drawer of the big dresser" you answered, sighing as you finally relaxed enough to pee. the relief was immediate after how intense everything had been.

"Got it." he leaned down and kissed the top of your head. "take your time, baby. i'll have everything ready when you come out."

While he was gone, you finished up and stood on slightly shaky legs. you turned to the mirror and froze, eyes widening.

Your neck and shoulders were covered in marks.

Dark hickeys bloomed across your skin — some light pink, others deep red and purplish. there were clear bite marks mixed in, especially near your collarbones.

It looked like you'd been attacked by a very affectionate vampire.

You didn't scream or panic, but your mouth fell open in genuine surprise. "holy shit…" you whispered to your reflection, turning your head to see the damage from different angles. there was no way you'd be able to hide all of these tomorrow.

Jungwon's voice floated from the bedroom. "everything okay in there?"

"Yeah" you called back, still staring at the constellation of love bites. "just… realizing how fucked my neck looks right now."

He laughed softly, the sound warm.

You could hear him shaking out fresh sheets. "sorry, baby. i got a little carried away. but you looked so pretty with my mouth on you… couldn't help it."

You shook your head, a reluctant smile forming as you washed your hands. when you walked back into the bedroom, the bed was already made with clean sheets, the old ones stuffed in your laundry hamper.

Jungwon stood there shirtless, sweatpants hanging low on his hips, looking ridiculously soft after everything you'd just done.

He opened his arms for you. "come here."

You walked straight into them. he hugged you close, one hand rubbing slow circles on your bare back while the other stroked your hair.

"You were amazing tonight" he murmured against your temple.

"I needed you so bad… thank you for letting me come over even though i showed up tipsy again." his voice dropped a little, almost shy. "i know you don't like it. i'll try to be better tomorrow, okay? but right now i just wanna hold you.”

You pressed your cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat slowing down.

The faint smell of beer was still there, mixed with sweat and his usual scent. the mix of annoyance and affection you always felt toward him swirled in your chest, but the gentle way he touched you, the sweet words, the way he took care of everything without being asked —made it hard to stay mad.

"You're lucky you're cute when you whine" you muttered.

Jungwon chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. he tilted your chin up and kissed you softly, no hunger this time, just warmth.

"Stay with me tonight?" he asked, even though you were already in your own apartment. "i'll make sure you're okay in the morning. we can even go over your presentation again if you want… after i make you breakfast or something."

You rolled your eyes but nodded, letting him pull you back toward the freshly made bed.

The city outside was quiet. and despite the marks on your neck and the lingering frustration about his drinking, you let him wrap himself around you under the clean sheets — because no matter how many times this pattern repeated, Jungwon's version of "i missed you" always hit different.

Soft, pale morning light slipped through the gaps in your curtains, painting the room in gentle hues of cream and gold.

It was still early — the kind of quiet morning where the city outside hadn't fully woken up yet. you had been lost in a hazy, warm dream, something fuzzy and pleasant that involved sunlight and laughter, when a persistent pressure low in your belly started pulling you back to consciousness.

At first, you thought it was just the need to pee. your eyes fluttered open slowly, lashes heavy with sleep, a small tired groan escaping your lips as you shifted under the sheets.

You had fallen asleep completely naked last night, too exhausted and satisfied to bother with clothes after Jungwon changed the sheets.

The fabric felt cool against your bare skin, and for a second you just lay there, blinking at the ceiling.

The pressure didn't fade. if anything, it grew warmer, wetter, more focused.

Then you felt it — the slow, deliberate drag of a hot tongue between your folds.

Your breath hitched sharply.

"Jungwon…?—" The name came out breathy, half-moan, half-question.

He was settled comfortably between your spread thighs like he'd been there for a while, your legs draped lazily over his shoulders.

His hands gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, holding you open while his face was buried in your pussy. his tongue moved in slow, filthy strokes— licking from your entrance all the way up to your clit before swirling around it with obscene patience.

The wet, slick sounds of his mouth filled the quiet bedroom immediately.

He hummed against you, the vibration shooting straight through your core.

"Morning, baby" he murmured, voice still raspy from sleep and last night's drinking, that signature soft, slightly husky tone that always hit you right in the chest.

He gave your clit a slow, wet suck before pulling back just enough to speak, lips glistening. "couldn't help it. you looked so peaceful… but your pussy was already a little wet. had to taste you."

"Fuck— what are you doing?" you moaned, hips twitching involuntarily as his tongue dove back in, licking deeper, more messily. "Won… it's too early for this—"

He chuckled softly against your folds, the sound turning into a needy little whine as he buried his tongue inside you, fucking it in and out slowly.

"Waking you up the right way" he answered, words muffled and dirty. "you're my favorite breakfast. so sweet and warm right after sleeping… fuck, you're getting creamy again already."

Your hand flew down instinctively, fingers threading through his soft dark hair. the sensitivity from last night's marathon made every single touch feel electric.

Your clit was swollen and tender, and every flick of his tongue sent sharp sparks of overwhelming pleasure shooting up your spine.

"Jungwon—shit, i feel like i'm gonna soak everything" you gasped, back arching slightly off the mattress. "we just changed the sheets last night… i don't have more backups right now—"

"Don't worry about it" he whispered, sucking gently on your clit before lapping at it faster. his tongue was relentless, sloppy and eager, coating his chin and lips in your arousal. "i'll take care of the mess. i always do. just let me eat you, baby. please?"

The plea in his voice — soft, almost whiny — made your stomach flutter. he was being so filthy with his mouth but still so sweet, eyes closed in bliss as he devoured you like he'd been starving for it.

The room quickly filled with wet, pornographic sounds: the constant slick slide of his tongue, the soft suction of his lips around your clit, your own shaky moans growing louder despite your best efforts to stay quiet.

Your back curved sharply off the bed as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. "ah—Jungwon!" your grip in his hair tightened, not pulling him away but holding on for dear life.

"It's too much… my clit's so sensitive from last night—fuck, slow down—"

But he didn't slow down. if anything, he pressed his face deeper, nose brushing against your mound as he licked and sucked with renewed hunger.

Long, lewd strokes of his tongue mixed with quick flicks that made your thighs tremble around his head. you could feel yourself getting wetter, that creamy arousal leaking out of you and onto his tongue.

"You're so fucking pretty when you're like this" he groaned against you, voice vibrating deliciously.

He pulled back for a breath, eyes looking up at you with that hazy, adoring gaze — pupils blown wide, ears still slightly pink. "all sleepy and red… moaning my name like that. makes me so hard, baby."

You whimpered, legs shaking as he dove back in. the overstimulation was intense. every single touch felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

Your free hand moved to your chest, squeezing one of your breasts, pinching your nipple as another broken moan left you.

"Won… please, i can't— it's too intense' you begged, voice cracking.

Your hips rolled against his mouth despite your words, chasing the pleasure even as it bordered on overwhelming. "i'm gonna cum too fast if you keep doing that—"

"Good" he whined softly, the sound so pretty and desperate. "want you to cum on my tongue. want to feel you gush for me again." he slid two long fingers into your soaked entrance without warning, curling them instantly against your g-spot while his tongue attacked your clit in tight, fast circles.

The wet squelching sounds grew louder, filthier.

His fingers pumped steadily, perfectly in sync with his mouth. you were dripping down his hand, creamy arousal coating his fingers.

"Jungwon—oh my god" you moaned loudly, head falling back against the pillow. your back arched completely off the bed, thighs clamping around his head as the pressure built impossibly fast. "like that—fuck, don't stop—"

He moaned into your pussy, the vibrations pushing you closer. "that's it, baby. let go. you're squeezing my fingers so tight… so perfect. cum for me. please, i need it."

Your hand tightened in his hair, the other still groping your breast, rolling your nipple between your fingers.

The combination of his tongue on your oversensitive clit and his fingers hitting that perfect spot inside you was devastating. you felt that familiar overwhelming rush — the tight, heavy pressure that made you feel like you were about to burst.

"I'm— fuck, Won, i'm gonna—"

He sucked harder on your clit, fingers curling faster, and that was all it took.

Your orgasm hit you like a wave, violent and all-consuming.

A sharp, pornographic moan tore from your throat as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his fingers, gushing wetly against his tongue.

Your entire body shook, back lifted high off the mattress, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head. he didn't stop — he kept licking and sucking gently, prolonging every aftershock while moaning sweetly against your folds, drinking down everything you gave him.

"Fuck… so good" he whispered, voice hoarse and satisfied. "taste so fucking good when you cum."

You were still panting, body twitching with sensitivity, when he finally slowed down. but he didn't pull away completely.

He kept his fingers buried inside you, giving lazy thrusts while his tongue gave soft, soothing licks around your clit, careful not to overwhelm you too much now.

"Look at you" he murmured lovingly, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh. "all flushed and pretty in the morning light. my beautiful girl."

You let out a breathless laugh mixed with a whimper, eyes half-closed as you tried to catch your breath.

The sensitivity made every small movement of his fingers feel electric.

"Jungwon… you're insane" you managed, voice shaky. "waking me up like this…"

He smiled against your skin, that playful, cat-like grin you loved and hated at the same time.

"Couldn’t resist. you were right there, naked and warm… smelled like sex and me. had to have a taste." he curled his fingers again gently, watching your face.

Jungwon was completely lost in you — whining softly, hips subtly grinding against the mattress for his own relief while he focused entirely on making you fall apart again.

And you let him.

Jungwon didn't hesitate for even a second. he moaned sweetly, loud and pretty, as he pressed his mouth closer and licked every drop left you gave him.

You were left panting hard, chest rising and falling rapidly, legs trembling as they slipped off his shoulders. your body felt boneless, warm and buzzing with leftover pleasure.

For a long moment you just lay there with your eyes half-closed, trying to catch your breath.

"Jungwon…" you breathed out shakily. "get up here… please."

He pressed one final, soft kiss to your clit before crawling up your body, leaving a trail of gentle kisses along your stomach and between your breasts.

When his face hovered above yours, his lips were shiny and swollen, chin glistening with your release. that familiar cat-like smile spread across his face — satisfied, a little proud, and ridiculously soft all at once.

"You okay, baby?" he asked quietly, voice still raspy and sweet. he brushed damp strands of hair away from your forehead with gentle fingers.

You nodded, still breathing unevenly. "yeah… just… intense. good intense."

Jungwon leaned down and kissed you slowly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

The kiss was lazy and deep, full of morning tenderness. when he pulled back, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the clean cloth he'd left there from last night.

He sat back on his heels between your legs and began wiping you carefully, his touch feather-light and loving.

"You're so fucking pretty right now" he murmured, eyes tracing your flushed cheeks, your messy hair, the way your chest still heaved.

His free hand stroked your waist in slow, soothing circles, thumb brushing the curve of your hip. "all glowing and soft… i could eat you out every morning like this."

You let out a breathless laugh, covering your face with one arm. "you're shameless."

"Only for you." he smiled wider, cleaning your folds "look at that — the sheets are completely dry this time. i swallowed every drop, see? no mess for you to worry about.”

You peeked out from under your arm and glanced down. he was right. thanks to how eagerly he'd devoured your orgasm, the fresh sheets he'd changed last night were still spotless.

The realization made you shake your head with a tired but fond smile.

Jungwon tossed the cloth aside and leaned down again, pressing a kiss to your stomach before sitting up fully. he looked genuinely energized, eyes bright despite the faint hangover haze he probably had. that was typical Jungwon— once he got his fix of you, he could run on pure affection for hours.

"I'm gonna make breakfast" he announced happily, already climbing off the bed. "you rest a little more. i'll call you when it's ready."

He walked over to your closet like he owned the place, pulling out one of the oversized white t-shirts he'd left at your apartment weeks ago.

He slipped it on, the fabric stretching nicely across his shoulders and chest, but kept the same gray sweatpants from yesterday hanging low on his hips. Barefoot, hair still messy from your fingers pulling on it, he looked stupidly domestic and hot at the same time.

You watched him with a small smile as he padded out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. the faint sound of him moving around your kitchen soon followed — cabinets opening, the fridge humming.

It took you a couple of minutes to gather the strength to move.

Your legs still felt a little shaky when you finally sat up. you swung them over the edge of the bed and stood up slowly, stretching your arms above your head with a quiet groan.

The marks on your body pulled slightly as you moved, reminding you of everything from last night.

You made your way to the bathroom, still completely naked. the moment you stepped in front of the mirror, you paused.

"Jesus Christ…" you whispered.

The hickeys and bite marks looked even more obvious in the daylight.

Your neck was a canvas of pink, red, and purplish spots. several dark ones sat right under your jaw and along your collarbones, joined by clear teeth marks on your shoulders. you turned slightly, eyes widening at the full extent.

There was no way you could hide all of them with just a hoodie.

You sighed deeply, running your fingers over one particularly dark mark. part of you wanted to be annoyed — he always got carried away when he drank — but another part felt a stupid flutter at the possessiveness behind them.

Still, the frustration lingered. this was becoming a pattern.

Shaking your head, you turned on the shower and stepped under the warm spray. the water felt amazing against your sore muscles.

You took your time, washing your body carefully, letting the steam fill the small bathroom while your mind wandered. Jungwon's laughter floated faintly from the kitchen, along with the smell of something cooking — probably eggs and toast, knowing him.

By the time you stepped out and wrapped a towel around yourself, you felt a little more awake.

You wiped the condensation off the mirror again and stared at the marks one last time, tracing one with your fingertip.

"You're lucky i like you" you muttered to yourself with a small, reluctant smile.

You dried off and threw on comfortable clothes — loose shorts and a thin long-sleeved shirt that at least covered most of your neck and shoulders.

When you finally walked into the kitchen, Jungwon was plating food at the small counter. he looked up immediately, that bright, boyish smile spreading across his face the second he saw you.

"There she is" he said warmly, voice full of affection. "how do you feel? come eat while it's hot."

He'd made simple breakfast — scrambled eggs with cheese, toast with butter, and some fruit he'd cut up. two glasses of orange juice sat ready.

He pulled you into a gentle back hug before you could sit down, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

"You smell nice" he murmured. "did you shower? sorry about all the marks by the way… i got a bit excited."

You leaned back against his chest for a moment, letting yourself enjoy the warmth before the usual mid-morning reality settled in.

"Yeah… i saw them" you replied quietly. "there's a lot this time, Won."

He hummed softly, squeezing your waist. "i know. i'll be more careful next time." but the way he said it sounded more like a hopeful promise than a guarantee.

You sat down together at the small table in your kitchen. Jungwon watched you take the first bite with that attentive, cat-like focus he always had when it came to you. the food was good — simple but comforting.

The quiet morning felt peaceful, but that familiar knot of worry about his drinking habits was already starting to creep back in.

For now, though, you let yourself enjoy the domestic moment: Jungwon in your apartment, barefoot in your kitchen, looking at you like you hung the moon.

Even if you knew this perfect morning came right after another night of him showing up drunk probably.

You were sitting at the small kitchen table, still a little sleepy but genuinely hungry after the morning activities.

The scrambled eggs were fluffy and cheesy, the toast perfectly buttered, and the cut fruit was sweet and cold. you ate like a little kid — cheeks slightly puffed, taking big bites and humming happily with each one, one foot swinging lightly under the table.

It was one of those unconscious habits you had when you felt comfortable.

Jungwon stood by the counter for a second, arms crossed over his chest, watching you with the softest, most fond smile on his face. his eyes curved into those pretty crescents, the same ones that made your stomach flip every single time.

"Look at you" he murmured, voice warm and amused. "eating like that makes me want to cook for you every day."

He was about to pull out the chair and sit across from you when the sharp sound of the doorbell cut through the peaceful morning.

Ding-dong.

Your fork paused halfway to your mouth. you already knew.

The sigh that left you was heavy and knowing. Jungwon's expression shifted too — he glanced at you, reading the look on your face instantly.

He knew exactly what was coming.

"I got it" he said quietly, before you could even speak.

He ran a quick hand through his hair, somehow making it look even better despite the messy night and morning you'd both had.

The white t-shirt hugged his shoulders nicely, and those gray sweatpants still hung low on his hips. he looked annoyingly put-together for someone who had been nose-deep inside you less than an hour ago.

Jungwon walked to the door and opened it with a light, polite smile.

Mrs. Park was standing there in all her glory.

She clearly hadn't bothered getting ready. her bleached blonde hair was frizzy and unkempt, dark roots showing at the scalp.

She wore an old robe over pajamas, arms crossed tightly under her chest. at 47, the years showed in the deep lines around her mouth and the permanent scowl etched into her face. she looked exactly like the type of neighbor who lived for this kind of confrontation.

"Good morning" Jungwon said calmly, keeping that polite smile. "is there a problem, ma'am?"

Mrs. Park didn't even bother with pleasantries. her eyes narrowed immediately.

"Your bed is literally pushed against my wall" she started, voice sharp and accusatory.

"I heard everything. every single sound. the moaning, the bed creaking, the filthy talking… all of it. at eight in the morning! have some respect, for God's sake. this is not a love hotel."

Jungwon's ears turned a light shade of red, but he kept his composure. he rubbed the back of his neck, looking appropriately sheepish.

"I'm really sorry" he said sincerely. "we didn't mean to disturb you. it won't happen again."

Mrs. Park scoffed. "sorry? i've had to listen to this nonsense multiple times now. last night too! the walls are thin, you know. i could hear her moaning your name like some cheap porn actress. disgusting."

Jungwon apologized again, softer this time. "i understand. we'll be more careful. really. sorry for the inconvenience."

The woman's face twisted "if this keeps happening, i'm actually going to file a formal complaint with the building management. i'm not joking. find somewhere else to do your little activities."

Jungwon nodded quickly, not giving her any more fuel. "understood. thank you for letting us know."

Before Mrs. Park could keep ranting, he gently closed the door, cutting her off mid-sentence.

The second the door clicked shut, he let out a long breath and turned around.

You were still at the table, mouth full of eggs and toast, staring at him with raised eyebrows. you swallowed quickly and pointed your fork at him.

"Told you." you said, voice muffled but smug.

Jungwon leaned against the door for a second, then walked back to the table with a playful smirk. he dropped into the chair across from you, stealing a piece of toast from your plate.

"If you say that one more time" he warned teasingly, eyes sparkling with mischief, "i'm gonna make Mrs. Park have a real reason to complain. right here. right now."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn't stop the small laugh that escaped. "you're actually insane. she literally just threatened to file a complaint and you're already joking about it."

He shrugged, biting into the stolen toast. "what do you want me to do? cry about it?" his foot nudged yours under the table. "besides… you weren't exactly quiet either, baby."

You kicked his leg lightly. "because you're way too needy. you woke me up with your face between my legs when i was still sensitive from last night. and then you kept going even when i said it was too much."

Jungwon leaned forward on his elbows, chin resting on his hand, watching you with that intense, cat-like focus. his voice dropped a little, low and teasing.

"Yeah… and i could do it again right now" he said smoothly. "even if you tell me you're sore. even if you say you don't want it. i know exactly how to touch you until you're begging for more. until you're dripping again and forgetting all about Mrs. Park."

You felt heat crawl up your neck — the same neck currently covered in his marks. you pointed your fork at him again.

"See? needy. you literally cannot go more than a few hours without touching me."

He grinned, unashamed. "guilty. but can you blame me?" his hand reached across the table, fingers brushing over your knuckles. "you're my girlfriend. my pretty, smart, hard-working girl who lives alone and lets me come over even when i show up tipsy. of course i'm obsessed with you."

There it was again — that soft manipulation wrapped in genuine-sounding affection.

It always made the frustration in your chest twist uncomfortably. You looked down at your plate, pushing the eggs around with your fork.

"You know it bothers me when you drink and then come looking for sex" you said quietly, the theme creeping back in. "and now the neighbor is threatening to complain because you can't keep it down when you're horny."

Jungwon's expression softened. he stood up and walked around the table, crouching beside your chair so he could look up at you properly.

His hands rested on your thighs, thumbs stroking gently.

"I know" he murmured. "i'm sorry. i really am. last night i just… missed you too much. work was long, my head was killing me, and the only thing that makes sense when i drink is wanting to be with you." he pressed a kiss to your knee. "i'll try to be quieter next time. and… i'll try to drink less. okay?"

You stared at him. he looked sincere — those big dark eyes, the slight pout, the way his hands kept caressing your legs like he needed the contact.

It was hard to stay mad when he got like this.

"You always say that" you whispered.

"I mean it this time." he stood up and leaned down to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. "eat your breakfast, baby. it's getting cold."

You sighed but went back to eating. Jungwon sat beside you now instead of across, one arm draped over the back of your chair, fingers playing with the ends of your hair while he ate with his other hand.

The domesticity of it was almost too much. he looked so comfortable in your apartment, like he belonged here.

After a few minutes of quiet eating, he spoke again, voice lighter.

"Mrs. Park really needs to get laid, huh? she sounded jealous as hell."

You almost choked on your orange juice. "Jungwon!"

"What? it's true" he laughed, that pretty, bright laugh that always made you weak. "she was mad she could hear us having good sex and she's probably getting none."

You smacked his arm, but you were smiling despite yourself. "you're going to get us evicted."

"Nah. i'll charm the building manager if it comes to that." he leaned in and kissed your neck — right on one of the darker hickeys — making you shiver. "or i can just fuck you against the wall that's not connected to her apartment next time."

"Needy and horny again already" you muttered, rolling your eyes.

Jungwon hummed, nuzzling closer. "always. especially when you're wearing my shirt and have my marks all over you." his hand slid higher on your thigh, teasing the hem of your shorts. "still sensitive?"

"Yes" you warned, but your voice wasn't very convincing.

He smiled against your skin. "i could make it feel good anyway… slow and careful. until you're the one making noise again."

You pushed his face away gently, laughing. "finish your breakfast, you animal."

He grinned victoriously and went back to eating, but his hand stayed possessively on your thigh the entire time, thumb drawing lazy circles.

The morning light kept pouring in, warm and soft, while Mrs. Park's threats lingered somewhere in the back of your mind.

Jungwon was still here — affectionate, playful, a little manipulative, and completely wrapped up in you. And even though the frustration about his drinking was still simmering underneath, you let yourself enjoy this version of him for a little longer.

The needy, sweet, impossible boy who made mornings feel this good.

The plates were nearly empty now, just a few crumbs and a smear of egg left behind.

You leaned back in your chair, letting out a satisfied little sigh as you wiped your mouth with a napkin. the food had actually been really good — simple but warm, exactly what you needed after the intense start to the day.

"That was actually delicious" you said softly, smiling at him. "thank you for making breakfast. you didn't have to."

Jungwon's face lit up with that bright, boyish grin that made his eyes curve into pretty crescents. he cracked his knuckles once, stretching his fingers, then pushed his chair back.

"Glad you liked it" he replied, voice warm. "i'll go shower real quick. i still smell like last night… and this morning." he winked at you playfully as he stood up.

You got up too, stretching your arms high above your head with a soft groan. your muscles were still a little sore in the best way.

Instead of heading back to the bedroom, you wandered over to the living room and perched yourself on the wide armrest of the sofa, one leg dangling while the other stayed planted on the cushion.

You watched him move around, enjoying the casual domesticity of it all.

Jungwon was halfway to the bathroom when he paused.

He turned around and walked straight toward you instead, that familiar glint in his eyes. he stopped right in front of you, stepping between your spread legs like it was the most natural thing in the world.

One of his hands came up to cup your cheek gently, thumb brushing across your skin with surprising tenderness.

His other hand settled high on your thigh, fingers stroking slow, lazy circles on the bare skin just under the hem of your shorts.

"I love you" he said quietly, voice low and sincere. his dark eyes locked onto yours, intense and soft all at once. "so fucking much. you know that, right?"

You let out a small huff, half-amused, half-exasperated, but your cheeks warmed anyway. your hand came up to rest on his wrist, not pulling him away, just holding him there.

"I love you too, Won" you murmured. "but calm down a little… we just ate."

Jungwon let out one short, bright laugh — that pretty sound that always made your chest feel lighter.

He leaned in closer, forehead almost touching yours, his breath warm against your skin. the hand on your cheek slid back slightly, fingers threading into your hair while the one on your thigh squeezed gently, possessively.

"Say it again" he whispered, lips brushing your cheek in a soft kiss. "tell me how much you love me."

You squirmed a little on the armrest, complaining under your breath even as you tilted your head to give him better access. "Jungwon… you're so annoying sometimes."

But your voice came out quieter, softer, almost breathy. your fingers tightened around his wrist as you looked up at him through your lashes, eyes a little wider, shoulders relaxing under his touch.

"I love you… a lot. more than i probably should, considering how much trouble you give me."

The words came out gentle and yielding, almost like you were giving him exactly what he wanted without being able to stop yourself.

Your free hand rested on his chest, not pushing him away but tracing small patterns over the white t-shirt.

Jungwon's reaction was immediate.

His breath hitched. that needy glint in his eyes sharpened as he pressed closer, hips shifting forward until he was flush between your legs.

A soft, pretty whine escaped his throat — low and desperate.

"Baby… you can't say it like that" he murmured, voice already rougher. he kissed your cheek again, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw.

"So sweet and soft for me… makes me want to keep you here all day."

His hand on your thigh slid higher, fingertips slipping under the edge of your shorts, stroking the warm skin there. not demanding yet, but clearly hungry.

You could already feel him starting to get hard against your inner thigh through the gray sweatpants.

"Won…" you complained weakly, but you didn’t move away. your fingers curled into his shirt instead, holding onto him. "you literally just said you were going to shower."

"I will" he promised, but he made no move to leave.

Instead, he nuzzled into your neck, lips brushing over one of the many marks he'd left the night before. "just… five more minutes. let me hold you like this."

He sounded so needy already — that slight whine in his voice, the way his hands kept moving on you like he couldn't stop touching.

One moment he was caressing your cheek lovingly, the next his fingers were squeezing your thigh like he wanted to pull you even closer.

You sighed, tilting your head to the side as he kissed along your marked neck. "you're impossible. Mrs. Park just threatened us and you're already trying to start something again."

Jungwon chuckled against your skin, the sound vibrating pleasantly. "she can threaten whatever she wants. right now i just want my girlfriend to keep telling me she loves me while i touch her."

He pulled back just enough to look at you again, eyes half-lidded. "c'mon, baby. one more time. tell me."

You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile threatening to break through. your voice came out even softer this time, almost shy, eyes dropping to his lips before flicking back up to his.

"I love you, Jungwon" you whispered, sounding small and sweet and completely wrapped around his finger. "i love you even when you drive me crazy… even when you show up drunk and needy… even when you leave marks all over me."

A full-body shiver ran through him.

He let out a low, needy groan and pressed his forehead to yours, hips rolling forward once, slowly, grinding against you just enough for you to feel how hard he was getting.

"Shit… you're gonna kill me saying it like that" he whined, voice cracking slightly in that pretty way it always did when he got desperate.

"I love you too. so much it's stupid. i can't even think straight when i'm around you."

His hand left your cheek to slide down your side, gripping your waist as he kissed you properly — deep, slow, and hungry.

His tongue brushed yours, tasting like orange juice. when he pulled back, his breathing was already heavier.

"You're still sensitive, right?" he asked, almost hopeful, fingers tracing the edge of your shorts again. "i could be really gentle… just use my mouth again or my fingers. i just want to make you feel good."

You laughed breathlessly, pushing lightly at his chest even as your legs parted a little more around him.

"Go shower. i'm still recovering from this morning."

Jungwon pouted — actually pouted — but there was a playful spark in his eyes.

He stole one last kiss, then another, before finally stepping back with visible reluctance. His sweatpants did nothing to hide how affected he was.

"Fine" he sighed dramatically, but he was smiling. "but when i get out… you're sitting on my lap while we watch something. deal?"

You rolled your eyes fondly. "deal. now go before i change my mind and make you wash the dishes too."

He laughed and finally headed toward the bathroom, glancing back at you one last time with that needy look that always made your heart do stupid things.

The warmth in your chest battled with that familiar knot of worry — about his drinking, about how easily he could melt your frustration with sweet words and gentle hands, about how much you let him get away with.

Still… mornings like this with Jungwon were dangerously addictive.

You stayed perched on the armrest of the sofa for a long moment, fingers absently brushing over your lips where he'd kissed you.

They still felt warm, slightly swollen. your skin tingled everywhere he'd touched — your cheek, your thigh, the back of your neck.

You let out a long, heavy sigh and dragged a hand down your face.

God, he's exhausting.

You were still sensitive from this morning.

Your clit felt puffy and tender, your insides a little sore in that deep, used way that made every shift of your thighs noticeable. part of you wanted to just sit here, scroll on your phone, and let your body recover.

But another, louder part — the one that always lost when it came to Jungwon — was already buzzing with leftover heat.

You glanced toward the closed bathroom door. the faint sound of water running reached your ears.

"Fuck it" you muttered under your breath.

You stood up and walked down the short hallway.

The moment you opened the bathroom door, a wave of warm, humid air hit you, thick with steam and the clean scent of your body wash.

Jungwon was behind the shower curtain, the silhouette of his body visible through the semi-transparent fabric.

"You almost done?" you asked, voice casual even though your pulse was already picking up.

The curtain slid open a few inches. Jungwon peeked out, water streaming down his face and dark hair.

It was plastered to his forehead, droplets clinging to his lashes. He smiled — that bright, cat-like smile that made his eyes curve — completely unbothered by the fact that he was naked and half-hard already.

"Not yet" he answered, voice slightly raised over the sound of the water. "why?"

You didn't reply with words.

Instead, you held his gaze and slowly reached for the hem of your shirt.

Jungwon's eyes followed every movement as you pulled it over your head, revealing your bare chest.

You hooked your thumbs into your shorts and panties together, sliding them down your legs at a deliberately slow pace, stepping out of them one foot at a time.

A low, surprised sound escaped his throat — something between a groan and a whine.

"Baby…" His eyes roamed shamelessly over your body, taking in every curve, every mark he'd left on your neck and shoulders last night. the hunger in his gaze was instant.

You stepped into the shower with him, closing the curtain behind you.

Warm water immediately cascaded over your skin, soaking you in seconds. you moved closer until your bodies were almost touching, sliding your hands up his wet chest and over his shoulders.

Your palms explored the smooth planes of his back, tracing the faint red lines your nails had left there earlier. your faces were inches apart, water running down both of you.

Jungwon's cock was fully hard now, pressing hot and heavy against your stomach.

"You told me to calm down" he murmured, voice low and teasing, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "and here you are, stripping for me and getting all needy in the shower."

"I'm not needy" you protested, even as your hands kept roaming his body. "don't bother me."

But even as the words left your mouth, you were already leaning in.

Your lips met his in a slow, deep kiss that quickly turned hungry. the water made everything slick — your tongues sliding together, lips wet and warm.

You could taste the faint trace of breakfast and the clean mint of his toothpaste. Jungwon's arms wrapped around you tightly, pulling you flush against his chest as he kissed you back with obvious want, one hand sliding down to grip your ass.

When you finally broke the kiss, breathing heavier, you looked up at him with dark eyes.

"This time" you said, voice dropping, "i want you to fuck me hard enough that i don't want any more intimacy for the rest of the day."

Jungwon's breath hitched. his pupils blew wide.

You turned around before he could respond, bracing your hands on the shower wall. you bent forward slightly, arching your back and pushing your ass back toward him, water streaming down your spine.

He didn't need to be told twice.

His hands caressed your sides first — slow, appreciative strokes from your waist to your hips. then you felt the blunt head of his cock nudge against your entrance, sliding through your folds once, twice, coating himself in your wetness.

"Fuck, you're already so creamy" he groaned.

He pushed inside in one smooth, firm thrust, burying himself to the hilt.

Your pussy was still sensitive from earlier, so the sudden stretch pulled a broken, high moan out of you. your fingers tightened hard around the shower fixture, knuckles turning white.

"Shit— Jungwon…"

"You okay?" he asked immediately, voice tight with restraint even as his hips pressed flush against your ass. "if you want me to stop, just say it."

"Don't stop" you breathed, pushing back against him. "just… fuck me."

That was all the permission he needed.

Jungwon gripped your hips tighter and started thrusting— deep, hard strokes that made the wet slap of skin against skin echo loudly in the small shower.

The sound was filthy, unmistakable, mixing with the rush of water. he groaned low in his throat, that pretty, needy sound you loved.

"God, baby… you're so fucking wet and tight" he panted, snapping his hips harder. "listen to how wet you are. i can hear it every time i push in."

Each thrust rocked you forward, your breasts swaying with the force.

The water made everything slicker, louder. Jungwon's pace was relentless but controlled — deep enough to hit that perfect spot inside you with every stroke, hard enough that your moans kept spilling out uncontrollably.

Your grip on the fixture tightened as pleasure mixed with the slight ache of overstimulation. it felt overwhelming in the best way — too much and not enough.

"Harder" you gasped, voice shaky. "you said you could make me want it even when i'm sensitive…"

Jungwon let out a soft whine and obeyed, fucking you harder.

The sound of his hips slapping against your ass grew wetter, sharper.

One of his hands slid around to your front, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles while he kept pounding into you from behind.

"Like this?" he asked, voice raspy and sweet even as he railed you. "tell me how it feels, baby. i love hearing you."

"So deep— fuck, Won…" you moaned brokenly, forehead pressing against the cool tile. "you're hitting everything."

He groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back, lips brushing your ear as he kept thrusting.

"You feel so good… so fucking good. i can't get enough of you." his fingers kept working your clit, never faltering. "even when you're sore you're still this wet for me."

The steam, the heat, the constant stream of water, and the way he filled you so completely had your head spinning.

Every hard thrust made your sensitive walls flutter around him, creamy arousal coating his cock and dripping down your thighs, washed away instantly by the shower.

Jungwon's free hand gripped your waist harder, pulling you back onto him with every snap of his hips. his moans were getting prettier — those soft, whiny sounds mixed with low groans every time you clenched around him.

"Tell me again" he panted against your neck, sucking lightly on one of the marks he'd left yesterday. "tell me you love me while i'm fucking you like this."

You could barely form words, but you tried anyway, voice shaky and submissive.

"I love you… fuck— i love you, Jungwon."

He whined loudly, hips stuttering for a second before he recovered and fucked you even deeper.

"Again" he begged, voice cracking beautifully. "please, baby."

The shower continued to rain down on both of you as Jungwon kept that punishing, delicious rhythm — hard, deep, and relentless, just like you'd asked.

Your moans mixed with his pretty sounds, the wet slap of skin, and the constant rush of water. your body trembled under the intensity, still sensitive but chasing more.

And Jungwon gave it to you without hesitation.

Jungwon's hips snapped against your ass with deep, forceful thrusts, the loud wet slap of skin echoing off the tiles with every stroke.

Your creamy arousal made everything obscenely slick — you could literally hear how wet you were every time he buried himself to the hilt.

"Fuck, baby… you're dripping down my cock" he groaned, voice husky and needy.

One hand gripped your hip hard while the other kept rubbing your clit in tight, fast circles. "you're squeezing me so tight."

You moaned brokenly, forehead pressed against the cool tile, fingers white-knuckled around the shower fixture.

Every hard thrust sent sparks shooting through your overstimulated body. it hurt so good — that perfect mix of soreness and pleasure that only Jungwon could pull out of you.

"Won— ahh, shit— right there" you gasped, pushing back to meet his thrusts. "faster… please."

Jungwon whined loudly, the pretty sound vibrating against your back as he leaned over you.

He fucked you deeper, faster, the head of his cock dragging perfectly against that sensitive spot inside you with every stroke. "i love you so much. love being inside you like this. you feel so warm and wet— fuck, i can't get enough."

The steam made everything feel closer, more intense. water streamed down your joined bodies, mixing with sweat. Jungwon's moans were getting louder, less controlled — those sweet, whiny sounds that always drove you crazy.

But you needed more than this position. you needed to see him.

"Wait—" you breathed, voice shaky. "turn me around."

Jungwon slowed instantly, pulling out carefully.

He helped you turn, hands gentle on your waist despite how hard he was breathing. the second you faced him, he cupped your cheeks and kissed you deeply, tongue sliding against yours in a messy, desperate kiss. water cascaded over your faces as you both melted into it.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

Jungwon grabbed the back of your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, pressing your back against the tiled wall. you wrapped your legs around his waist, ankles locking behind his back.

He lined himself up and pushed back inside in one smooth thrust, burying himself completely.

"Oh my god—" you moaned loudly against his mouth, nails digging into his shoulders.

"Fuck, baby… this is better" he panted, forehead pressed to yours.

His dark eyes were half-lidded, glassy with lust and affection. "i want to see your face when you cum."

He started moving again — deep, rolling thrusts that ground his pelvis against your clit with every stroke.

The new angle made him feel even bigger, pressing right against that perfect spot inside you. your bodies were flush together, skin sliding against wet skin, hearts pounding in sync.

Jungwon's moans were right in your ear now, soft and needy.

"I love you" he whispered between thrusts, voice cracking. "love you so much it hurts sometimes. you're everything to me." he kissed you again, slower this time, almost reverent, even as his hips kept that steady, deep rhythm.

"I'm yours—" you gasped, fingers threading through his wet hair. "only yours, Won. i love you… fuck, i love you so much."

He whined loudly, hips stuttering before he recovered and fucked you harder, deeper.

The sound of your bodies meeting was loud and wet, echoing in the shower. your moans mixed with his — raw, unrestrained, needy.

"You're getting tighter" he groaned, burying his face in your neck, sucking on one of the dark marks he'd left yesterday. "gonna cum for me, baby? want you to cum all over my cock while i'm inside you."

You nodded frantically, legs tightening around his waist.

The pressure was building fast again, that overwhelming heat coiling low in your belly.

Every thrust, every grind against your clit, every sweet word in your ear pushed you closer.

"Close— i'm so close, Won" you moaned, voice breaking. your nails dragged down his back, leaving fresh red lines.

"Me too" he panted, voice whiny and desperate. "look at me, baby. please— wanna see you."

You forced your eyes open, meeting his gaze. his hair was soaked, water dripping from his lashes, cheeks flushed.

He looked beautiful — needy, loving, completely lost in you. he kept one arm under your thigh for support while his other hand reached between you, thumb rubbing your clit in perfect circles.

"Cum with me" he begged softly, hips snapping harder. "please, baby. let me feel you. i need it."

The intimacy of it — his eyes locked on yours, bodies pressed so close, water falling around you like a curtain — pushed you over the edge.

"Jungwon—!" your orgasm hit hard, walls clenching rhythmically around his cock as intense pleasure crashed through you. you moaned loudly, shamelessly, thighs shaking around his waist as you came.

The feeling of you pulsing around him sent Jungwon over right after.

His hips stuttered, burying himself as deep as possible as he came with a gorgeous, broken moan — that signature soft, husky voice cracking into pretty whines.

"Fuck— baby, i'm cumming— ahh, shit—" he groaned long and deep, hips grinding into you as thick, warm spurts filled you up.

His face buried in your neck, body trembling against yours while he rode out every wave, moaning sweetly the entire time.

For a long moment, the only sounds were the running water and your heavy breathing. Jungwon held you close, still buried inside you, arms wrapped tightly around your body like he never wanted to let go.

He was the first to move, pressing soft, lazy kisses along your neck and jaw until he reached your lips. the kiss was slow and gentle now, full of affection.

"You okay?" he whispered against your mouth, voice hoarse. "wasn't too hard?"

You shook your head, smiling tiredly. "it was perfect… intense, but perfect."

He smiled back — that soft, cat-like smile — and carefully lowered your legs until your feet touched the floor.

He stayed close, holding you steady when your legs wobbled. without a word, he reached for your body wash, squeezing some into his hands.

"Let me take care of you" he murmured.

He lathered the soap between his palms and started washing you with gentle, loving touches.

His hands glided over your shoulders, down your arms, across your chest.

He was extra careful around your breasts and between your legs, cleaning you with soft strokes while pressing occasional kisses to your wet skin.

He tilted your chin up and kissed you again — slow, deep, and full of quiet love. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, water still raining down on both of you.

"I really do love you" he said quietly. "not just when i'm tipsy. all the time. even when you're mad at me for drinking… even when Mrs. Park threatens us." He gave you a small, sheepish smile. "i know i mess up sometimes. but you're the best part of my day."

You swallowed hard, emotions swirling in your chest.

"I love you too" you whispered back, hugging him tighter. "just… try to be careful, okay?"

"I will" he promised, kissing the top of your head. he held you for a long time after that, just hugging you under the spray, hands rubbing slow circles on your back.

Eventually he turned off the water and grabbed your biggest towel, wrapping it around you first before drying himself.

He helped you out of the shower, still supporting you when your legs felt shaky. in the steamy bathroom, he dried your hair gently with another towel, then your body, pressing soft kisses wherever he touched.

The morning had been intense — loud, needy, intimate, and messy in the best way. and even with everything still unsaid about his habits, Jungwon's care made it hard to regret any of it.

At least for now.

You’ve seen him countless times. Same cigarette between his lips, same bump on his nose, same butterfly tattoo, same smudged eyeliner, and that same feeling in your chest every time you locked eyes with him, it made you dizzy—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system talking, you weren’t sure anymore. You frequented these local underground shows; the intensity of the music and simply being surrounded by like-minded people made life exhilarating. You always somehow managed to be in the same bar, same show, and same time as him—maybe it was fate—you thought. He was always at the back, always looking for easy access for a smoke break, while all the other patrons chose to be closer to the artists on stage. He never did anything besides eye-fuck you from across the bar, and you just hoped someday he would maybe take your hand and invite you to make out in the alley or something at least. You even picked out a sexier outfit this time, the shortest skirt you could find–practically the same length as your studded belt—thin ripped tights, and a tiny tank top, no bra.

Yet, you’re just standing near the drinks, nursing your poison of choice, not planning on drinking too much tonight. You tried to spot the mystery man; he’s probably smoking outside—wow, civilized. There are already about six other people smoking inside; no one seems to care anyway. The band on stage queued another song; they’re not too bad, you’ve definitely listened to worse, but they seem to be on the same beat if nothing else.

Something—someone, you realized—tapped your left shoulder.

“Do you have a lighter?”

You breathed out, unsure of why you were so certain of who this voice belonged to.

“Y’know, for someone who smokes, I’m surprised you don’t have a lighter.” You turned around.

“I do, in fact…” He said as he held up his lighter.

“...have a lighter. It just ran out of fluid. Didn’t think I should bring an extra when you can lend me one.”

It’s funny how you talked to him like you both knew each other since way back. Maybe it was a product of the many unsaid thoughts you have already said to one another. Up close, you could see how defined his Adam’s apple was, how soft and pretty his lips looked, how his eyes seduced you without even trying, and–fuck–that fucking nose of his, he could kill you right now and you would say thank you, hopefully he won’t though. You rummaged through your bag in search of your lighter. It would be much easier to find it if it weren’t for the fact that all your things are black, making the inside of your bag virtually a void.

He stepped closer when you handed it to him.

“You wanna smoke with me?”

This may be your chance, so you take it, needing to smoke anyway. Both of you stepped outside, settling somewhere near a street light pole. The music inside the bar was muted now, and all you could hear was the sound of your own heartbeat and the occasional cars driving by. 

“You come here often, huh?” 

He said it more like a statement rather than a question. He handed you one of his cigarettes–generous, the tips of his fingers slid across yours.

“Often enough that I’ve seen you around like a hundred times already.”

He exhaled a laugh, lighting your cigarette while it's between your teeth. He held your chin lightly; you dared not move, yearning and savoring his soft touch, even for just a bit. He looked you up and down, the same kind of eye-fucking he’s been doing since you caught him months ago. He took a long drag till he talked again.

“My name’s Jiung by the way.”

“Nice of you to introduce yourself.” You might have needed him desperately, but you’re not that easy—you think.

“I see how it is.” He smirked, pivoting to face you fully.

“What do I have to do to get your name?” Jiung licked his lips, settling his tongue between his teeth, unashamedly staring at your tits.

You stepped closer, smelling the mix of tobacco and cherry perfume on his skin. You played with the hem of his black top, ghosting your lips right beside his ear, whispering about a bathroom before Jiung interlocked his fingers with yours and ripped through the bar’s crowd. He quickly locked the door, and you pulled him by the neck, smashing your lips against his. The pent-up frustration releases itself into this euphoria. Jiung moved his hands to wrap around your waist, his thumb gliding up and down under your skimpy top. He pushed you against the wall—gently, careful not to hit your head, in contrast to how rough his sex rubbed on yours. 

Fuck, even through the clothes, you could tell how big it is. You previously had some sort of image in your mind about his size—his choice of pants gave him nothing to hide behind—but to be able to feel it was a different story. Jiung pushed your top upwards, just above your belly button.

“Can I?”

Oh, so respectful he is.

“You don’t have to ask, baby.” 

That gave him enough courage to push your top further, his warm tongue lapping at your sensitive nipples. The sounds he made wrecked you, rubbing your cunt against his jeans, propping his knee up to relieve you of the pressure. Jiung made sure both of your nipples were accounted for, squeezing and playing with the other while sucking on one. He gets off on you writhing because of him, smiling to himself before licking and biting the space between your neck and your shoulder.  

He dropped to his knees, unzipping your shorts as he gawked at his view. He ripped your tights, making a hole big enough for all the things he plans to do to you at the end of the night. Jiung pulled your panties to the side, revealing your soaking wet pussy, positioning your left leg on top of his shoulder. He sloppily kissed your thighs, making his way up, inhaling your sweet scent until he latched his mouth on your clit. You buck into him, the sudden heat and his relentless tongue doing wonders for you. You pulled at his hair, rougher than you intended, but his eyes rolled to the back of his head. Jiung dived deeper, he lives for this—you can tell—his pupils are blown out, and he moans against your pussy like you’re the one pleasuring him, he’s right where he belongs. 

“Fuck! Ji…ung…you keep…sucking like that, I’m not gonna last long.”

He hummed in reply. Jiung didn’t stop; he didn’t even lift his head the entire time, and you wonder how he’s able to keep breathing. Your legs began to shake, your orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks. He rides you through that high, his movements softer and slower as he does his best to drink your slick—what a freak. Jiung detaches his mouth from your pussy, finally taking a deep inhale, the lower half of his face glistening from your cum. 

“I need you to cum around my dick like that.”

You’re checked out, and he hasn’t even stripped off a piece of his clothing, but you’re about to change that. You looked down at the tent he had pitched, innocently making eye contact when you jerk him off through his pants. Jiung can’t wait any longer, and he beckons you over to the sink. For a minute, you just stood there, ogling as he took off his shirt, revealing way more tattoos than just the butterflies. You ran your hand around his chest, his waist, tracing his inked skin under your fingertips. It felt…intimate. Like, somehow he’s revealed to you a secret. Jiung kissed your lips tenderly—as if you were the most delicate flower he’s ever laid his hand on. You melted into him, craving the softness—his softness amidst the hard-core locale you both enjoyed. 

Jiung pushed his pants along with his boxers down, the sight he unfolded was mouth-watering. You just knew that you could barely manage to wrap your hand around his dick fully. He spat on it, letting his saliva drip down his length as it twitched, and used his thumb to spread his pre-cum all over his gorgeous red tip. He threw his head back, finally getting some skin-to-skin contact. 

He took out a condom from his pants’ back pocket, as you thought of the most logical position. Bending over the sink, giving him a full view of your sopping pussy while you look at his reflection on the graffiti-covered mirror. It may hurt from the sheer size of him, but with how wet you were, it wouldn’t matter anyway.

“I’ll stretch you out a little more, m’kay?”

He placed his hand on your hip, stabilizing you as he played with your clit, rubbing his fingers around in circles, spreading your juices. He slowly inserted one finger, then two—going in and out at a slow and steady pace—but what you really need is his big, heavy cock to fill every inch inside you. 

You whined. 

“Jiung, please. Put it in. I can take it, I promise.”

“Are you sure, baby? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You rubbed your bareness up and down his shaft. 

“Please…”

He finally lined himself up with your entrance. 

“Tell me if it's too much and I’ll stop.”

Jiung gave you that delicious stretch you’ve been dying for. He waited for you to relax before moving, slow but deep thrusts until he was buried entirely in your warm pussy. You would not have guessed that his moans would be more akin to high-pitched whines from how deep his conversational voice was. The sound of wet skin smacking and heavy breathing filled the air. You had a death grip on the edge of the sink from how deeply he was thrusting into you. 

Jiung grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to look at the lewd scene in the dirty mirror. 

“Look at yourself, beautiful.”

You looked wrecked, your mascara running down your face, your lips swollen and glistening from spit, your mouth open, releasing the most beautiful moans echoing inside the equally filthy bathroom. Jiung pulled your tank top, craving to see your tits spill out and bounce in rhythm with his strokes. He devoured your nape, making sure to leave marks sure to last a week, his tantalizing eyes never leaving yours. You bent over once again, slightly embarrassed and unable to maintain composure when he’s fucking you this good. His balls continuously smacked against your clit, driving you crazy. 

“I’m close. Fuck. I’m gonna fucking cum, Jiung, please.”

“Me too, baby~”

Jiung played with your clit, albeit lazily, as you reached your second orgasm; he followed closely behind, reaching a high of his own. He buried his dick to the hilt, breathing heavily into your neck, and he placed careless kisses down your spine, grazing you with his teeth when he finally came. You tried to catch your breath, the feeling of ecstasy washing over your entire being.

“So… have I earned your name yet?”

chemist!jiung who walks into your lab for the very first time all wide-eyed and enthused for the opportunity to work in a big pharma lab. who you set your eyes on at the first sight of dark, shaggy hair, of big, sparkly brown eyes, of the white lab coat sitting snug over his broad shoulders, nearly glowing against his pale skin. 

He doesn't seem to be taking in anything your supervisor is explaining to him as she walks him around the lab, his wandering eyes flitting between all the complicated looking machines with equal parts nerve and excitement. 

And gods he’s so pretty that you nearly drop your standard solution. 

“Hey,” your benchmate, Jongseob, snaps from across the divider. 

But you ignore him, too busy ogling the new boy’s enticingly lean body. You don’t even know his name. All you know is that you’ll want to scream it at some point. 

A disposable pipette hits you in the face and snaps you out of your reverie. Jongseob is too busy snickering to be phased by your glare. 

“Careful or you’ll catch flies,” he teases. You throw the pipette back at him. 

“Shut up before I catch you by the—“

“And here is our best and brightest!” 

You whip around to see your supervisor sauntering over to your desk with a wide grin, the new boy following behind like a little ducking, all shy with his hands tucked in front of him and a small smile on his lips. 

When his eyes catch yours, your breath hitches. 

“She’s one of our best,” your supervisor starts, but her words fall deaf to you. 

You’re too busy tracing the slope of his perfectly carved nose, where a pair of thin glasses sit in lieu of those stupid chunky safety ones that you despise and rarely wear, never mind being one chemical splash away from becoming blind. You hope he never takes these ones off. 

“…Jiung, if there’s anything you ever need help with, she’s your girl,” your supervisor’s voice pulls you back to the present.

Jiung.

Yeah, you could work with that.

You grin at the shy smile and nod that he gives you and lean over your desk, nearly knocking over your vials with your elbows. 

“Yes, Jiung,” you chime, and you don’t miss the light blush that dusts his cheekbones at your next words. “Anything you need.”

chemist!jiung who starts to stick by your side after you decide to take him on as your protege and let him shadow you on the job, from letting him sit with you at your desk and watch you work, to keeping him company during lunchtime with your group of lab friends, to showing him around the building. 

“And this is our supply cage,” you tell him, stopping at the row of locked cages in a room where the lights are a bit too dim. You unlock the door, bringing him into the overcrowded space. It’s brimming with supplies far too many for the tiny space to hold. “It’s a little spooky but it’s quiet, there’s no cameras, and people rarely come down here.”

His voice rings right behind your head. “It’s pretty small.” 

You turn to find him standing almost body to body with you, which is all the space will allow, as his eyes roam around to take in all the stock. 

“Small, but a nice getaway. Just you and your thoughts,” you smile, not making any effort to put some distance between you. 

He doesn’t either when he looks down at you to mirror your smile. “Good to know,” he hums, his eyes taking their turn to take stock of your face this time. 

There’s a quick moment where you get a glimpse of the man behind that shy, nerdy exterior in the impish slope of his smile. 

But it doesn’t last long, seeming to remember his place as he takes a step back. 

“So can I—“ —just to hit his head against the corner of a protruding box on the shelf behind him. “Ah!”

You break into a laugh at the affronted and embarrassed look on his face as he curls in a little and rubs the back of his head. 

“Careful you dork,” you snicker, taking his arm to pull him back to you. “It’s dangerous in here.”

He scrunches his nose, pouting as he drops his hand to his side. “Could’ve warned me…”

You grin at him, squeezing his elbow once before you let go. “Just don’t come in here alone. You could get mauled by a box of septa caps and no one will find your body.”

He giggles at your dumb joke, shifting his weight on his feet as he meets your eye for only a second before looking away. “Guess I’ll just have to bring you along with me.”

“Mhm.” You step past him for the exit, brushing your shoulder against his. “I’ll protect you, princess.”

chemist!jiung who gets assigned to the empty bench across from you and doesn’t miss any chance he gets with the convenience of it to ask for your help. who you’re delighted to assist with a generous hand and a flirty smile. 

“My retention is failing,” he says, his voice carrying from across the meter gap between your benches. 

You lower the flask in your hand, looking over to see him staring at his computer with a tiny pout on his lips. 

You can’t hold back the giggle that escapes you at the cute sight. Everything he does is cute. “Did you make your mobile phase right?” You ask as you rise to your feet, abandoning your own work, to round over to his bench. 

“I did!” He cries softly, shoulders slumping as he follows you with his eyes. You should feel bad at the sad look in his eye but that strange, primal part of you preens at the sight. 

“Hm…” You stand over his shoulder to watch the peaks on his screen form, chewing on your lip and trying to distract yourself from the helpless gaze that Jiung looks up at you with. “Well it looks like your standard checks passed. Our systems are pretty finicky. Maybe there’s a leak somewhere.”

His pout deepens. “What do I do?” He asks, wringing his hands nervously in his lap. “This is going to be a lab event, isn’t it?”

You bite away the laugh that bubbles in your throat at just how nervous he seems. “Unfortunately,” you answer, and the devastation in his expression actually does make you feel bad this time. “But hey, you held out longer than I did. I only lasted two weeks before I had my first investigation.”

He seems to lighten at that, his brows raising behind his bangs. “Really?” The surprise in his voice takes you a little aback. “But you’re so…” He trails off, struggling to form his thoughts, the blush on his cheeks deepening into a scarlet. 

You grin, bumping your elbow lightly against his shoulder. “Good?”

He lets out a tinkling giggle that wraps snug around your heart. “Well, yeah. You make, like, zero mistakes. You’re perfect,” he rushes out, stumbling over his words, and when he realizes what he’s said, his blush climbs down his neck. “I-I mean, in the sense that—when you work—“

“Relax,” you chuckle, saving him from choking on his own words. He lowers his head to avoid your gaze, no doubt mentally kicking himself. You step just a fraction closer, leaning your hip against his desk and bending down to whisper to him. “But between you and me,” you start, and he looks up at you with those pretty brown eyes, lower lip tugged between his teeth. “I’ve just gotten better at hiding my mistakes.”

You don’t miss the way that his gaze falls to your lips for a split second, the way the corner of his lips twitch up. 

“I guess I still have a lot to learn from you,” he murmurs, unknowingly setting fire to your heart and somewhere… lower.

chemist!jiung who seems to get as struck by you as you are by him, if his wandering eyes and shy smiles and lingering presence at your desk (despite his being only a few feet away) are anything to go by. who doesn’t seem brave enough to make an actual move.

“Some of us are going rock climbing after work this Friday,” you tell him as you hold your cylinder beaker of acetonitrile up to him behind the fume hood glass. “Wanna come with?”

He takes a look at your beaker, gives you a nod, then turns back to marking his own flask. “That sounds fun,” he says after a moment. “Pass me the ACN?”

You lug the heavy bottle over to his side of the fume hood after you finish pouring out your beaker. His hand brushes against yours as he takes it from you—only a minute point of contact that he quickly flits away from like he was burned. The red that climbs up his neck is telling enough.

You bite down on your lip as you go back to finishing up your solution. “I’m thinking about getting some bubble tea after,” you say, hoping he’ll take to the opening. 

As usual, it goes right over his head. “I love bubble tea,” he chimes as he moves to measure out his solvents. 

You let it linger for a moment, hoping he might eventually catch on. 

He doesn’t. 

You sigh internally before you pick up your bottle of standard, turning to face him fully. “Would you like to join me?”

He freezes up, his pipette bulb fumbling out of his hand as he processes your words. You can actually see his brain freeze manifesting into blinking eyes and blushy cheeks and a gaping mouth. 

His head whips around to you. “Huh?”

You’re not sure whether to laugh or be offended. 

You could be straight forward and call it a date, since you know for a fact that he likes you but his brain is too preoccupied with chemical formulas to do something about it, or you could play it safe. 

You play it safe, because you’re not above being a coward. 

“Bubble tea,” you repeat, raising a brow. “Wanna go with me after rock climbing?”

You let the question compute in his mind for a bit, just watching the way his parted lips quiver like he’s about to say something just to come up empty. 

It goes on like that for a handful of seconds before he finally speaks up. 

“Little brother,” he fumbles out, then turns a fire red at your baffled expression. “Uh, my little brother and I are watching a show later that night so… I can’t be out that long.”

You don’t bother to hide your disappointment. But it’s a valid enough excuse. You just hope it’s not a lie. 

“Didn’t know you had a little brother,” you pivot with a smile, giving him a once over. “Suits you though.”

You leave him at the fume hood blinking in confusion as you call over your shoulder for him to,

“Make it up to me some other time then!”

chemist!jiung who doesn’t make it up to you. who instead dodges your attempts to get him alone but does everything to mess with your heart with his gentlemanly and not-so-friendly gestures, like complimenting your new haircut, like offering you a hand to get you down the step ladder, like reaching around your shoulders and caging you in his arms to type something out in your keyboard, like not breaking eye contact for one second as he gives you the space to rant about your shitty coworker. who gives you every reason to believe he wants you but will then reject your advances.  who you get fed up with eventually so you corner him in the supply cage when he asks you to help him bring in new glassware. 

“What’s your deal?”

He whips around to you, clutching a box of new volumetric flasks in his arms as he stares at you with wide eyes. “Huh?”

Normally, you’d find his cluelessness cute. But now you’re just exhausted. 

“Don’t play dumb,” you snap and he bristles, trying to step back but gets interjected by the shelf behind him. There’s no escape from your disapproving look in this tiny space. He must face it head on, five inches away from him. “I’ve been asking you out for like three weeks now. And if you’re going to tell me it’s because you don’t see me that way, then I call bullshit. Your signals say otherwise.”

He goes quiet, and you start to feel like you’ve gone and truly fucked up by misreading everything. 

“…So you really were asking me out,” he mutters, quietly enough that you think you weren’t meant to hear. 

Your brows furrow. “Well no shit. I know you’re a little dense but you’re not that—“

The box in his arm goes crashing to the floor, the very expensive glass inside clanking and probably shattering, but that becomes the least of your worries when his body engulfs you and his lips crash into yours. 

It takes a moment for your soul to make it back into your body—but at the insistent grasp of his hands on your hips, the insistent press of his plush, warm lips against yours, the insistent little noise he makes at the back of his throat when you don’t immediately kiss him back, you melt against him. 

You kiss him back with an aching fervour, one that’s been festering inside you the moment you laid eyes on him. He sighs into the kiss, parting his lips to let you map out his mouth with your tongue as he pushes his body against yours. 

The shelf digs painfully into your back but the pain gets overridden by the overwhelming surge of pure want that rattles through your veins. 

You dig your teeth into his lower lip, drawing a broken moan from him. “Fucker,” you hiss at him, grabbing him by the back of his hair to hold him in place so you can bully your tongue back in his mouth. 

He just takes it, trying to push deeper into your lips but his glasses bump awkwardly against your cheek. 

He pulls away with a curse, pulls his glasses off and tosses them blindly aside, then lets you pull him back in by the collar of his lab coat. 

Those new flasks never make it to the lab. 

chemist!jiung who ignores you almost entirely after that. who is, of course, a professional so he can’t entirely ignore you but keeps his interactions with you strictly business. 

You sit with him at lunch? He’ll divert the conversation you try to start with him to your other coworkers. 

You try to give him a hand with supply cage runs? He says he’ll ask Taeyang for help. 

You try to strike up conversation from your desk when the workload lulls? He’ll give you dry, uninteresting answers. 

So you stop trying entirely, bitter and a little (read: a lot) hurt. You really thought something could have come out of this. But the excitement that came with waking up everyday and having a reason to look forward to going to work has turned into a dread that makes you resent ever meeting him in the first place.

But even then, even with all his evasive behaviour, his eyes still won’t leave you. 

You feel it when you divert your attention to Keeho during lunch, when you opt to talk with Jongseob from your desk, when you’re setting up your system all the way across the lab. 

You know your little game isn’t over just yet. You’re just not sure how to end it. 

chemist!jiung who causes another investigation a few months in, one that your supervisor thinks will need your expert hand to fix, so she assigns you both to come in on a saturday to rerun his project. who is the only other person in the building with you. 

You work in tandem with him, keeping interactions short and your words clipped, just enough to get through the work well enough.

But your attention keeps straying from the tasks at hand—to the furrow between his brows and the pout on his lips as he mixes solvents, to the way his shoulders move under his lab coat as he works, to the way his long fingers move under those nitrile gloves, prominent veins shifting under the thin material. To the glasses that keep slipping down his nose, the safety ones shoved up in his hair and out of the way. 

You let him do the cleaning, leaning against the solvent cabinet as you watch his back while he rinses glassware. 

It’s quiet, just the sound of running water and clinking glass.  

“I can feel you glaring at me,” he says after a while, the deep timbre of his voice a little rasped from the long hours of work.

You let your silence linger for a little longer, before,

“What’s your deal?”

His movements freeze for a moment before they resume as he reaches out to shut off the water. “I feel like I’m getting deja vu.” 

“Right,” you mutter, just a little bitter. “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair that I’m in this position again?”

He places the flasks in the glassware cart before slowly turning to you, gaze lowered as he pulls off his gloves. You hate that your eyes follow the movement, seeking out the sight of his unfairly attractive hands. 

“I’m sorry,” he finally says. 

You straighten on your feet, folding your arms over your chest as you step towards him. “Sorry?” He freezes up as you inch closer, step by slow step. “That’s all I get after you kiss me stupid then leave me hanging?”

You watch as his throat bobs with a nervous swallow, as the familiar red starts to creep over his skin. “I-I didn’t mean for that to happen,” he stammers, wringing the wet gloves in his hands. “I just…”

You stop in front of him, inches away. “Just what?” You snap.

He flinches, glancing up at you for barely a split second before looking down again. “I don’t date coworkers.”

You want to laugh. 

“Yeah?” You tilt your head, waiting for him to look up at you again before continuing. “That doesn’t stop you from eyefucking me in the middle of the lab.”

He makes a soft, panicked noise, his eyes blowing wide open behind his glasses. “I-I don’t—“

“You do,” you cut in, snatching the gloves from him and tossing them in the way of the bin. You’re pretty sure it misses entirely. “So I’m asking you again.” You lean in, close enough that you can almost feel the tip of his nose against yours without actually touching. “What’s your deal?”

His breath hitches, his panicked eyes flitting between yours as he searches for an answer. 

“I shouldn’t…” He whimpers, a weak and weary thing. 

“Shouldn’t? Or don’t want to?”

“I want to!” He bristles, his nose bumping into you. He flinches back at the contact. “I-I want to but… It’s a huge HR violation…”

Again, you want to laugh. And maybe throw up a little bit from the ridiculousness of it. On him, preferably. 

You narrow your eyes at him. “Do you know how many safety hazards I ignore in this lab? You think I give a fuck about HR violations?”

His lips part, jaw going slack as he tries to grapple with the idea of defying code of conduct. 

You take a step back and it seems like it physically blows him. His hand reaches out for you almost on instinct before he forces it back to his side. 

“I’m going to the cage to get some new cylinders,” you say, the invitation loud and clear, before you turn and leave him in his agony. 

chemist!jiung who seems to make up his mind pretty quickly, because you don’t even have to wait five minutes before he’s in the supply cage with you, on his knees with his face buried between your thighs. 

His tongue is eager and relentless and talented as he fucks you with it to what seems like is going to be an overwhelming high. 

“F-fuck, Jiung!” You cry, legs shaking under you, your hand tightening in his hair as your hips rock against his face. 

He pulls off of you, clicking his tongue at the loud whine you let out. “Quiet,” he snaps, his voice deeper than you’d think it could go. It makes your head spin. “There’s still a security guy roaming the halls. You don’t want him to hear, do you?”

You huff, hissing when his fingers dig into the thigh you have swung over his shoulder in retaliation. “Fine, just—“ You tug him back in by the hair and he obliges, latching onto your clit. 

Your back arches off of the shelf when the tip of his tongue starts to rapidly flick over the throbbing bud, your jaw falling open in a silent moan. 

His hand not holding up your leg climbs up your body to pull open your lab coat. Then he starts to hastily unbutton your shirt, latching onto your breast over your bra and kneading the soft flesh in his palm, making you arch further into the touch. 

The heat in your gut coils tighter, threatening to snap when you catch the sight of him, so completely enthralled by the taste of you. His glasses are starting to fog up but you can still see that his eyes are half lidded with a drunken look to them. His cheeks are splattered with the familiar red, and the sight of him like this is so pretty that when his tongue glides down to circle at your hole, the tip of his nose prodding at your clit, you nearly come undone. 

But then he pulls away entirely and you actually sob as the pleasure gets ripped away from you. “Jiung,” you whimper, your vision blurring through the tears. 

“Shh.” He lowers your leg, his hand finding your hip as he starts to climb up your body, leaving kisses over you, over your mussed clothes as he rises to his feet. He trails them up to your exposed chest, tugging down your bra so he can tongue at your nipple. “Want you to come on my cock.”

The words barely register in your hazy brain before he’s turning you around, still gentle as he handles you despite the mind-reeling switch in his demeanour. 

The clinks of his belt and the sound of his zipper makes the realization dawn on you. “J-Ji—“ You break off into a whine when you feel the blunt head of his cock, thick and throbbing, swipe through your soaked folds. 

You both shudder at the feeling, his hand tightening on your hip, his head dropping to your shoulder as he pushes against your entrance. But he doesn’t press in just yet. 

Your hands tighten on the shelf, the cold metal digging into your cheek where you’re pressed against it. 

When he still doesn’t move, you let out a whine, pushing your hips back. His tip catches against your hole and he curses, all restraint flying through the window as he holds down your hips and pushes his cock into you, seating himself deep enough to where you feel him nearly kissing your cervix. 

Your jaw falls open into a loud moan but his hand quickly snaps over your mouth, muffling out the sound before he hisses in your ear. “What did I say?”

But you can’t think about anything past the way he stretches you out and fills you up so nicely, especially not when he starts to fuck into you in a slow, deep pace that makes it feel as though he’s carving out a space inside of you in the shape of him, brushing every inch of himself against your gummy walls, punching into that spot inside of you with each precise thrust. 

It doesn’t take much from him to get you shaking like a leaf and creaming around him. 

“Is this what you wanted?” He gasps into your ear, his arm winding around your shoulders to hold you against him as he snaps his hips quicker into you. 

You whine, the question not registering past your fucked out daze as you grab onto his forearm for stability, your body jerking with each of his harsh thrusts.

“Hm?” He persists, turning to press his lips into your ears. “Is this what you imagined when you brought me in here that first time?”

You let out a weak whine, nothing but an unintelligible babble of his name that makes him chuckle. 

“I imagined it too,” he whispers, slowing down to deep, grinding thrusts that push against your cervix and make your body grow taut with an overwhelming mix of pain and pleasure. “I imagined it so many times.” His breaths are hot and wet against your neck, his tongue flicking out to trace the shell of your ear. “Bending you over my bench when you’d come over to fix my mistakes for me. Eating you out in the PSD room. Fucking you on my fingers in my car right in the parking lot. Fuck—“ He hisses when you clamp down on him as the images of him defiling you in the lab fill your head, his pace stuttering as he lets out a choked laugh. “Yeah? You like that?”

He pulls out until the tip just to slam all the way back in and pick up a rapid pace that has the shelf rattling and your body thrashing. 

“Imagined this too,” he breathes, voice starting to thin out into something airy and needy and whimpery as he nears his edge. “Fuck—imagined it just like this… So many fucking times, fuck, I’m coming—“

He reached around to start drawing quick, tight circles around your clit to barrel you right over to your orgasm, just as he reaches his. 

“Come for me,” he begs, fucking you rapidly into delirium. “Fuck please—please come for me, I’m gonna—“

He thrusts into you once, twice before pushing all the way in and shooting ropes of warm cum into you just as you pulse and thrash around him, sobbing through your orgasm. He lets his bitten out grunts and whimpers drown out into your hair, his attempts to stay quiet not entirely successful. 

But he doesn’t care, not when he gets to stay seated deep in your warm body with his arms around you, head buried in your neck as he breathes himself back into his body. Not when he eventually pulls out and sees you dripping with him, and his head gets filled with ideas of where to fuck you next. 

chemist!jiung who breaks open a new box of kimwipes to clean you up and then puts you back together, kissing your senses back into your trembling body. 

“Come on,” he murmurs, still breathless as he pulls you up on your feet and into his arms. “We gotta see if my standard checks are passing.”

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1 reblog/comment = 1 virtual kiss <3

Riki didn't care much for parties. 

Despite how feral he'd get over tequila in his first years of uni, perhaps his taste had matured with time. Graduated to the expensive whiskey his father got him as a reward for going into his last year of uni, shifted from the daze of break-dancing in someone's living room to sitting out back, on plastic white cars passing a blunt between his fingers. He'd dabbled in mostly everything, seeing uni as the lawless and experimental grounds he often laid witness to, which is why he buys his first g of weed in the abandoned park he loved as a child, in the lowlights of a tunnel he had no business being in this late at night. The dealer - a friend of a friend - a uni dropout despite his clientele being mostly uni students gives him a nod before they exchange weed for cash, so casual in nature despite the thrum in his neck. 

Only when he's scattered away, stuffing the bag so far into his hoodie pocket, it'd bury into the material, can he exhale. Except when he gets to his friend's house, free of rigid parents for the weekend, does he realise he doesn't know the first thing about smoking weed. He assumed it was like smoking a cigarette, which he'd regretfully done at a house party once and threw up strawberry wine on some poor girl's shoes. He didn't inhale right, hacked every time he tried burying the puff of smoke in his lungs and then while his high school friends starfished on the living room carpet, giggling to themselves, Riki sits on the couch, legs folded into himself with his cheek pressed into his knuckles, a bit left out but at least busying himself with the run of Courage the Cowardly Dog on the blaring TV. 

Now at uni with people at bit more knowledgeable and empathetic, he tries this and that. Gets his high in more ways than unexpectedly good grades, surprising himself and when he tells his flatmate, Jake about the coursework, he grins like some proud father, corners of his lips to his ears as he gives him a hug. 

"That's my guy," his palm smacks onto Riki's back, hand braced on his shoulder as Jake pulls away, a knowing grin on his face. "I say we celebrate."

"Over some coursework?" Riki's eyebrow quirks. "That's uhm, sweet but no need broski."

"Bro, I'm making brownies. The good kind," Jake nods over his shoulder, the chocolate aroma hitting Riki again, wafting with the current of something unwinding the tension packed in his shoulders. "Hee's finally submitted that CompSci project that's made him a ghost and Sunghoon's got a game he's gonna win. We're celebrating." 

Riki lets the idea carry his smile, stretching further as he deserts his leather bag on the couch and walks into the kitchen with Jake, timbs echoing against vinyl as they check on the progress of Jake's creation. Riki's fairly acquainted with the various ways of ingesting weed, his Chrome Hearts themed bong bought off Etsy one of his prised possession, but brownies are still his favourite. Quick and easy, his second year dealer an aspiring chef with a knack for desserts, from space cake, lemon pound cake and even tiramisu. The latter his favourite, sweet enough for him to stand and strong enough for him to laugh controllably watching Fantastic Mr. Fox, collapsing over Sunghoon's lap in breathless laughs echoed in the back of his throat. 

Needless to say, "What the cuss?" became a go-to phrase between the two, unavoidable in first two weeks of life, but still forever present.

Shuffling out his bedroom door, the front door adjacent to it flings open, heavy clattering following as Sunghoon's figure ambles through. He topples over the mess of shoes stationed at the door needing a wash, hands splayed against the narrow hallway walls to stead himself. Riki raises an eyebrow.

"You good?" His head lowers, mirroring Sunghoon's ducked one as he struggles tugging off his sneakers, a dramatic sigh emptying him as they fling off, his flushed face in full view. "You drank already?"

"The guys insisted on a pint after we pummelled Yonsei 7-0, an embarrassing shutout," Sunghoon runs his hands through his sweaty hair, face settling into a lax Riki's happy to see. "But you know, it's never just one and now I'm halfway smashed and I still need to fucking shower,"

He starts departing, clapping a hand over Riki's shoulder with a heavy squeeze as he says ascending the stairs. "If you hear me fall over, just ignore it. Later!"

Riki can only smile at the interaction, shaking his head as he styles his caramel blond strands into something more spiky, finally having time to put effort into his appearance after coursework that literally stole the swag from him. In the mirror, he's the painting of a 200s punk love interest doomed to his perpetual existence in the mall food court and Hot Topic, baseball long sleeve olive and silver with saggy jagged jeans to match. And soon enough when the lights dim, living room illuminated by disco LED lights and packed with conversating bodies, Riki's dodging drunken spills, reaching into the back of the fridge for Jake's brownies to bring out back, pebbles rubbing together under his shoes as he plots down in the circle of his housemates and a few other friends, a welcome slow in mellow conversation. 

"I'm pretty sure I'm part whatever they put in Monster because except that and microwave Mac & Cheese, that's all I survived off," smoke blows out Heeseung's lips, some cheap cigarette from the corner shop between his fingers as his body slumps into the plastic chair. His free hand pulls his black beanie downwards, his fringe peeking out still. "You know how down bad I've gone back to being a nitty."

He takes another drag, head tilted up to the sky, moonlight bathing the slopes of his face in shadows and brilliance. Riki watches on quietly. 

"Well, it's done now. So, do yourself the favour and buy better cigs," Jake chuckles, eyes averting opposite him to Riki. "You brought them out?"

"Yeah, I'm not looking to drink twelve pints tonight," he unwraps the cling wrap over the brownies, rings clinking together as he offers the stacked amount around. "Plus, they're fresh. And hopefully better than the last batch."

Beomgyu, one of Heeseung's friends breaks out into a chuckle, laughing along with his friend who says, "Those were an attempt."

"Hey! It's harder than it looks, okay?" Jake insists, biting into his brownie. "The fuck would youse know about using an oven, much less baking."

"Well, if your aim was to give us diabetes, you were almost successful," Riki laughs, gulping before he takes a bite. Dense but still somehow airy, not too sweet - good on Jake. "Good attempt this time round."

"Thanks Riki, because I really only live for your validation," Jake's eyes roll, amusement on his face meaning the jabs mean nothing as he nods to Haechan. "What you think?"

"Like I won't need a glucometer," he giggles, mouth full with crumbs against his tanned skin. "It's really science if you think about it. I'm glad you learned from your ways."

"If you think you're taking some home ─ fat chance," the two stick their tongue out at each other, to the sound of Beomgyu moaning, "Just kiss already, I'm close." Jake's laugh only lasts moments before his phone buzzes in his pocket, screen lighting his face. "Oh shit, she's here."

"Who's here?" Riki asks, another bite into his brownie.

"Wonder if she's run into Sunghoon. Lord knows that man is a mess," Jake supplies, neck straining to peek at the backdoor, fingers running through his midnight hair. 

"Yeah, I haven't seen that man so fucked since St. Pattys - and that was last week," Haechan adds on. "Think he'll make a move?"

"He'll try but she won't have it. He's probably got beer and sick down his shirt anyways," Jake replies, lighting up at the opening back door. He waves his raised hand, more enthused than Haechan's. "Took you fucking ages."

"Sorry, but Sunghoon insisted to talking to me with his sicky breath," a feminine voice echoes from the narrow alley leading to where they're situated, your figure emerging from the shadows. "I had to get him to brush his teeth. He gagged brushing his tongue ─ pussy."

Cheeks full of chocolate brownie, Riki feels all his weight sink to his feet, body running arctic cold then densely warm at the sight of you. You're so pretty it hurts, sweet in the face with a confidence keeping your shoulders back and head high, the smirk across your face alone very much capable of making him pop a boner. In the silent howls of the night, so much air surrounds them yet makes no effort to make a home in his chest, emptied out with a heart beating only for you, attuned to every move you make.

"Oh, is that a brownie? Fuck yeah," you lean down into Jake's hand holding his, teeth sinking into the dessert with a nonchalance so alarming Riki only can blink, swallowing heavy in his throat. "Hm, that is good. That dealer hasn't left for France yet?"

"Nah, it's my own humble creation," Jake's hand splays over his chest, nodding proudly. "Happy you like it. Kiss for my troubles?"

"My God, this whole house is full of horn dogs," you drag the last plastic chair closest to Riki, ripped leather trousers crying against the material as you settle, sipping on your drink. "Don't tell me you're one of them."

The sentence is directed at Riki, who's still baffled how he's gone three and a quarter years not having seen you once. Not at any party, not at any club, not even walking on campus. Perhaps it's for the best because if he knew you existed, his focus would boil to only you as it does now. Trailing the stack of silver hoops and chains stacking your ears, the dermals under your right eye haloed by dark, unworried makeup, he snake bites settled beneath the plump of your lips with sharp nails and leather clothing plucked from his wildest dreams. Slouched back and manspread, he gets full view of the belly piercing beneath your black vest, a skeleton hanging at the bottom.

Riki might explode. 

"Riki, you good?" Heeseung asks, blowing smoke with a knowing smirk. Riki can't hide his groan. "Brownies already hitting?"

"Something like that," he only spares his friend a glance, eyes fighting for more time on you, a polite smile on your lips. He hates how quick he is to imagine your lips elsewhere. "We haven't met before."

"Right, we haven't," you confirm, nodding. "I had the misfortune of being in a group with Jake for some workshop a bit ago. I'm only in it for the baked goods."

"Sounds like something totally unrelated." Beomgyu chimes in.

"He wishes," your nose scrunches, laugh contagious in the coy smiles dispensed around the entire group. "Good to meet you, Riki. Your fits seem to live up to the hype."

Riki points to himself, incapable of social interaction. "My fits?"

"Hair's a bit questionable. Bro looks like he got electrocuted." Heeseung jokes, just to wind him up.

"Coming from a man smoking cheapo cigs, I'd pipe down," you retort, eyebrows jerking upwards in a retort that has the guys howling. "It's cool spiked up. A bit out of place, hang on,"

A small, "Can I?" escapes your lips for only his ears to hear, an immediate nod following before your hand with the lightest touch arranges his hair back into place, satisfaction in your grin. "All better. Don't you look handsome."

His blush floods all the way to his ears, not missed by Heeseung who only shakes his head with a chuckle, sending dancing eyebrows and bitten back smirks his way over the background of thumped music inside the house. It’s so starkly dissimilar to the calmness of the back garden, nothing but conversation and Jake's chill RnB playlist humming out of his phone's speakers. Riki learns all sorts about you that night, lulled by your velvety voice and weed making him float on a cloud. However, what becomes blaring obvious is no matter what anecdotes he learns over the short time you spend outside, something else prevails.

The dire obsession he has over you.

Whatever Riki's dissertation his Sports Science degree is based on takes a backseat in his final year, most of - if not all - his thoughts circling back to you. He experiences the phenomenon of life at university, where you see a person and you either never see them again or see them everywhere. You are the latter. Blooming in places unimportant to him, now significant as he catches glimpses of you. Sees you in the university mail room collecting your guitar pick parcel, sees you on the grassy lawn near the library when the sun's out, cat eye sunglasses perched on your septum-pierced nose, laughing as a kicked football bounces off your sunbathing friend's ass, sees you in said library nodding your head to the Drum & Bass music blasting through your headphones, laser focused on the work you blitz though. He even catches you outside the modern Design school building, giggling as you swap a blunt amongst your friends, not the least bit worried of getting caught. 

Having access to you like this makes his mind wonder, go to places on fuelled by obsession and it hotwires his system to you. In your mystery black but bright smile, the silver of your jewellery but the warmth of your heart. How in all the moments he thinks he's alone in seeing you, your head turns. Most times you motion him over or simply smile, acknowledging him with an acknowledgement he thinks of all day. His brain doesn't let him forget you, finding every excuse to bring you up in conversation, try your favourite foods, listen to your favourite artists (lots of crossover between his) and just…well, simp over you as Heeseung so lovingly puts it. 

Riki can protest all he wants, but he knows it to be true. How much he's fallen for how you move through the world like its yours, carving every bit of yourself in spaces he'll never forget, whispering your name in suppressed whimpers as he doesn't let his thoughts venture too far, just the image of you laughing at some poor joke he made or the compliments you so freely give him. 

And then he's coming. All of his hand, chest and in the swirl of relief and shame, even then his mind cannot banish thoughts of you. You're hard to forget after all. 

"Is she coming?" Riki asks, always referring to you as he follows Jake down the stairs. The older between the two scampering through to the living room where Sunghoon's left some hockey game playing and into Jake's room, lived in-neat with the scent of sea salt blowing through.

"Man, I don't know. It's like you have a crush on her or something," Jake says absently, sifting through his closet for something to wear. Except when he only hears the scrape of his clothes hangers, rather than Riki's immediate denial, he stops. Looks his friend in the eye, chestnut curls encompassing his surprised face. "What the fuck? You're joking."

Riki could deny it. Save himself the additional teasing, but he's always been a shit liar. 

"She's cool." He ends up admitting, looking down at his suede sneakers. They need a clean. 

"Yeah, I bet she is since you beat your meat to her," Jake laughs, pulling out an outfit he's satisfied with - jeans and a brown plaid jacket. "I get it, but you're not the only one. Jay from Psych's acting like she's cast a love spell on him and Sunghoon's all over her like a rash, so…"

Riki groans, fed up. "Come on, he has options." 

"And you don't?"

He considers it. Thinks about that girl in his Advanced Sports Biomechanics lecture he's been pining over since they last kissed first year, but quickly got a boyfriend before he could take her to her favourite restaurant. Thinks about the other girl from the library months ago who he suspects likes girls and somehow, he finds peace in it all. Letting go of a past that no longer serves him, that didn't really to begin with and finds you. Nestled into every crevice of his memory and heart.

He's an absolute goner. 

"She's special," Riki lets it be known, his nape a source of comfort for his scraping nails. "I only want her."

"Aren't you a romantic," Back turned to him, Jake circles back with a baseball cap with a design of unbuttoned jeans. He's stolen that out of Riki's closet, reminding him to lock his door when he leaves for lectures. "Maybe talk to Hoon about it. So we can avoid another shared-girl situation,"

"Unless you're into being a cuck or whatever."

"You signed up for that." Riki states, well aware of that situation.

"Different strokes for different folks, I don't know what you're into," Jake can only shrug, bottom lip jutted out. "Don't think I want to either. Just talk to the guy so there's no drama." 

And because Riki's preferences don't line up with Jake's, he makes the trek up the stairs to the attic room, hearing Heeseung yell from his corner room to his right, probably playing LOL. Riki knocks, Sunghoon yelling for him to come in. 

Up the five stairs, he spirals up into Sunghoon's room, fitting for the so-called 'slut' of their house, the most spacious room out of their four, decently clean with hockey memorabilia scattered all around. He's at his desk to the stairs' right, thick-rimmed glasses on his nose bridge as he actually works on his dissertation, slumping back at Riki's presence.

"Needed something?" 

He avoids his gaze, fingers threading through the hairs down his nape. He'd cut it if it wasn't for you saying how much you wished to see it long. 

That night he'd dream of you pulling on his hair, head between your legs. 

"Yeah, I wanted to run something by you," he sits on the edge of Sunghoon's navy blue bedding, legs not having much strength to stand. He chooses to ignore the mystery white stain centimetres from him. 

"Shoot."

"Well, you know," he then mentions your name, shoving back down the spike in nerves at Sunghoon's small but undeniable grin. "You uhm, like her or something?"

"The fuck's with all the awkwardness?" Sunghoon laughs, nose scrunched up as he folds over. "Yeah, she's cool."

Same words Riki said. He's screwed.

"How much do you really like her?" Riki asks, fingers playing with the frayed fabric of his shorts, head all the way down. "Because I mean, there's no shortage of ladies who want you, I just wanted to know so-"

"So you could get a hall pass?"

His question is accented with a disbelieving eyebrow, something like distaste amongst his moled features. Riki's hand smooths over his neck, not sure why he's so nervous about this. 

"A forever thing - more like," Riki supplies, finding it in himself to start verbalising what he's kept to himself for the past few weeks. "I like her, I'd like to take her out if she'd let me."

There's a silence after his words, nothing the house's usual sounds of Heeseung smashing his keyboard and yelling, along with Jake's playlist thrumming through the living room speakers. It's a confession he's known since that fateful night and yet, when said in front of Sunghoon, he isn't quite sure how the words will land.

"Shit Riki," Sunghoon curses, something akin to amusement in his features. He leans back in his office chair, matching grey hoodie and shorts hanging off his large frame. "Should've just said you were serious about the girl. Would've backed off ages ago." 

"You seemed close," Riki recalls, thinking back to when you physically helped him brush his teeth. The intimacy of the moment lingers in his mind longer than he's liked. 

"Well, yeah. I've been trying since first year," Sunghoon laughs, not a sliver of embarrassed at being rejected for almost four years. "But she's pretty set on being friends. Even more so lately,"

Recollection pinches his features together, hands smoothing over the five o'clock shadow he almost always has. "Lowkey she might be into you. She's weaved you into conversations loads."

Riki can't quite believe his ears. "Sorry?"

"She has this Pinterest board - I even downloaded that for her - for guy fits she likes, but I think it's just what she'd dress her boyfriend in," Sunghoon supplies, shaking his head. "Anyways, it's like, yours to a tea. So, she wouldn't have to convince you. Plus, she said you're cute. She never compliments guys."

Riki frowns. "Surely that's not true."

"Bro, during my bulk, when I was at like, my peak sexiness, she said I looked like I was on roids," Riki swipes a smile off his face, clearing his throat to disguise his smile. "She also says nice things about Jake, but never his appearance."

"Maybe that's not what matters to her."

Sunghoon rolls his eyes, turning back in his chair. "Here you go, Romeo," he shakes his computer mouse, monitors coming to life. "Maybe that's shit she's charmed for, couldn't be me. But yeah, go ahead. She's all yours."

A flutter kickstarts in Riki's chest, lips folding over each other to somehow hide his elation. 

"Only mine?'

"Don't push it," Sunghoon warns with a side eye, no real bite to his words. "Close the door behind you, I'm gonna have a tactical jerk before tonight's party." 

"Right, because you've got chyl─"

"Get out, Riki."

How Riki's found himself in this situation, he'll never know. Nevertheless, if there's a higher being orchestrating this, he'd spend his days praising their existence because there's just no way.

The evening starts off with some nerves, enough for him to desert his dinner cooked by Jake's inability to make one serving. He apologises, saying he had a big lunch but that his leftovers will be tomorrow's lunch, whisking off to their shared downstairs bathroom to start getting ready. While he does put effort into his appearance, this is certainly above the rest, every item of clothing or jewellery picked with precision, hair carefully styled. Heck, he even gives himself a manicure, pushing back his cuticle and making sure his nails are trimmed with no sharp edges. When Heeseung comes into his room to borrow some cologne, they're both startled. Riki sitting on his edge of his bed, in a black bathrobe with green face mask on, nail file putting in work. 

Heeseung damn nearly topples over in laughter when Riki pushes him out, shutting the door to hear Heeseung yell out. "Holy fuck, Riki's whipped." 

Perhaps the comedic break does some good to his nerves, but they are very much well and alive once the house party starts, one last night before the Easter break. So, if Riki wants to spend the next four weeks reliving every interaction you've had because he was too scared to get your number, he'd have to put in work tonight.

Usually he has a low amount of drinks before he moves onto weed, but with shaky pupils scanning the living room, he's yet to see you and since his heart can't differentiate between being shot and looking for you, he yields to Sunghoon's request to play beer pong. Sunghoon hard carries their teams against his two teammates, Jungwon and Taehyun, and because Riki can't think straight, he has almost four drinks before he's trudging outside, needing some air and a joint. 

The usual suspects are outside - Jake, Haechan, Beomgyu, Heeseung and you. He'd missed you, your entrance made in the back alley because Jake said he had hot gossip that couldn't wait. Relief drops him into the chair opposite, a side-eye cast at Heeseung whose purposely positioned himself next to you with Jake on your other side, the dirty look all but gone when you acknowledge him in front of the entire group.

"Was wondering when you'd swing by," something unlabelled lines your lips, pulled in easiness accelerating Riki's heart rate the more he looks at you. The bore of your eyes. "Wanna hit the bong?"

He's too hopeless to speak, settling for a nod and looking back on it, he thinks it's then that seals his fate. How tension unwinds from his rigid shoulders and mellowness makes his lids heavy, makes him so open and funny because despite how comfortable you make others around you, the romantic thought of you makes him hold back. Scared that his attention is all-consuming, a turn-off for a lack of better words. However, his perspective on this situation seems warped at best, a shuffle of seats having you end next to him as their circle go in and out the house. You talk like you're the only ones outside, close and whispered, enough for the hairs on the back of his neck to stand when you lean in further, lips so close to his jugular he's afraid you'll hear the hammer. Know he's into you. 

"You've got a mole here too," you offer up some space before the poor boy's about to combust, your finger instead resting on the mole. Where you can definitely feel how fast his heart's going. "They're so pretty."

"I've got more down my back," he answers, because he's stupid. And down bad. "Seven, I think."

You lean back in your chair, leg swinging over to hike up your impossibly short skirt dangerously high, slyness pulling your features. "Isn't that a treat."

That's the nail in the coffin. One Riki doesn't hear beyond the desperate gasp of air he does after your reply, eyes quickly averted to Heeseung's prying ones, mouthing a shared, "What the fuck?" Somehow you miss it and talk more and when Riki talks of his Chrome Hearts themed bong, your eyes sparkle. Ask to see it and he lets you, a quiet hand offered to you as he navigates through the warm bodies swaying to thumping music and beelines to his bedroom.

He notices you lock the door behind you. A shy smile offered. "Don't tell me you haven't been locking your door during these parties."

"I'm usually good about it," Riki speaks slower, aided by the relaxation coursing through him. 

"Good. Because we've had forks stolen during one of ours," you roll your eyes, shrugging off your faux-fur toasted jacket. Hanging it amongst the rack of Riki's coats, fitting in so nicely with his. "Uni students steal anything."

"Tell me about it." He thinks back to the traffic cone Sunghoon had in his bedroom first year, then promptly forgets all about him. About anyone except you.

He shows you the bong, hoping his mind isn't hallucinating how close you are, pretty much doing a Show n' Tell because he doesn't know how to talk about himself. Something he mistakenly utters. 

"I don't think you realise how personal your room is," you express, perched on the edge of his bed alongside him. Thighs touching, face illuminated by the black candles matching with every colour choice in the room beside deep maroon. "It's got all your memories, everything you've loved. It's…refreshing,"

Your hand falls over his, fingers threading between the gaps of his fingers, squeezing. "Thank you for showing it to me."

"Of course," his answer comes out in a whisper, muffled by the background noise of streamlining students coming in and out the house. "I feel comfortable with you." 

Which is a lot more truth he's banked on admitting tonight, but at the sight of your bright smile, he can't hate himself for being vulnerable. On the laptop right in front of them, where his desk is, he gets his Spotify up, putting on a blend at your suggestion. You don't stop holding hands through the entire interaction, more command in his veins as his thumb grazes over your knuckles. Some more talking happens, but it's almost lost in the grand scheme of things when his heavy lids drop down to your lips, wondering how the cold metal of your snakebites would feel, the noises you'd make when he wouldn't rush kissing you like every loser looking just to get some. Savour you like he's wanted to every since he laid eyes on you. 

The opportunity comes like destiny, over the chorus of Joey Bada$$' 'Y U Don't Love Me?' forever remembered as the moment he kissed you. Colour explodes beyond his closed eyes, a moan releasing at the pillowy press of you, your free hand coming up to cup his face while his other rests around your nape, thumb stroking skin as he loses himself in you. The weed cycling through his system intensifies the moment tenfold, having to hold onto you to assure himself he's tethered to reality, groaning at the cold metal sliding his lips as he captures your bottom lip in a teasing bite. You moan at that, the prettiest sound he's been blessed with hearing and when he's ready to get on his knees to serve you, you beat him to it. 

"I wanted to─" Riki starts.

The unbuckle of his belt is striking loud amidst the house party, ringing in his ears as your tongue swipes your bottom lip, teeth left in its wake as you insist. "Later. I want you in my mouth now." 

And who is he to argue? Especially when every second of this is plucked from the dark corners of his mind, watching with a laboured chest as you button his jeans and from him from his precome-damp boxers, cock springing free. 

Wonder dazzles in your eyes, a satisfied hum resonating through your chest as your tongue immediately lolls out, swirling all around his flushed tip, ending off with licking the pool of precome in his slit, groaning at the taste. "Fuck, you're huge. Taste good too."

Riki's shoulders drop in defeat, hand coming out to cup your face as he looks at you with agony. "You're gonna be the death of me."

"Don't go dying on me, Riki," you smirk, lowering your plump lips to his cock, hand folded over it, thumb grazing its engorged veins. "You haven't fucked me yet."

Between the weed amplifying his sense and the sin that is you, Riki doesn't anticipate himself lasting long. Especially when you're working him like this, unconcerned with being messy as you cover his length in spit, smeared it into your hands to account for what can't fit into your mouth. You start off so sweet, teasing disguised as you cover his length in adoring kisses, from his balls your hands fiddle with, up his shaft to his tip, leaking by the time you get there. The chuckle you do vibrates into his hot skin, earning a hiss from him as you lap it up with unparalleled enthusiasm, taking him in your mouth. 

"Fuckkkk," 

If his other hand wasn't supporting him sit straight, it would've pulled at his bleached strands, thighs quivering the warm sensation of your mouth enveloping him more and more. Your head bobs as everytime you duck down, you feed more of him in your mouth. So sloppy too, the wet suction and drag eating at the music nonexistent in his ears from his laptop or the living room, ears only catching to the sounds of the gag you do on him, overconfident but not yielding, your throat closing around him to make him whimper. 

"God, your throat feels so good, baby," the words come so naturally to him, eyes closed in pleasure. "Taking me so well."

Around his length, you mumble, "I'll take more. I want more." 

He damn near comes right then and there, precome beading down your throat closing around him despite your push to continue. Riki throws his head back, fingers carding through your hair and pulling, not meaning to but spurred on by your moans around him, his cock throbbing in your mouth as you keen, "Harder please," 

So sweet to him, he could never say no to you. As your head bobs, your tongue swirls, a groan unearthed from the deepest of Riki's chest as pleasure swirls in his stomach, breaths coming out hard and fast as he tries holding himself back. But you're so good, moving your hand in tandem with your mouth, sucking him like he's the best thing you've put in your mouth and he undoes. 

"Shit, wait ─ I'm gonna come," he warns, eyebrows pulled together but it appears to be no concern to you. Gaining confidence and momentum, you push yourself to take more of him, close to your nose grazing his pelvis, gagging hard enough to wet your lashes but everything's secondary to you. Getting Riki to come is everything, which comes to you as you whimper around his length, nails scratching at his hip, over the mole you kissed on your way down his torso and he comes. "Gonna fill your─hmph!"

He pulls hard at your hair, only adding his orgasm as you squeal around his length, shaking your ass like you'll push into some pressure and it kills Riki, flooding your mouth and not being in you, body curling into himself as his cock reaches where you can only sit there and gag. Once he's blinked enough times for his sight to return, relieved but wanting more, his cock slips from out your mouth, face coming into view as tears streak down your face, so pretty and perfect for him with come edged in the corner of your lips. 

"Don't swallow."

You're about to wipe the come into your mouth when he says that, curiosity in your expression, morphing into surprise as he pulls you closer into a kiss. The gasp muffles against his plump lips, some of his come already down your throat but enough shared between your mouths as his tongue swipes into your mouth, kissing and tasting every inch of you, you're dizzy. Fawn legged as you collapse back onto the grey carpet, looking up at Riki with saucer eyes as he can do nothing but smirk as his thumb swipes away missed come from the corner of your lips, licked off his thumbpad. 

"We taste so good together, angel," he smirks, darkness flared in his eyes. "Just like I thought."

Riki thinks he's scared you off.

Perhaps the heat of the moment led him astray and he did that, but he'd been so deprived of your lips on him, he took every chance to have you on him. Including when your mouth was full of come.

When Heeseung hears this the next morning, he sits there with his pink cat-ear headphones with a jaw dropped, appalled. "You're a fucking freak, dude. Or a narcissist. I can't tell the difference here." 

His words don't inspire much confidence, especially when Riki recalls how after the kiss your phone buzzed, a frantic call coming from your housemate that ultimately ends up with you disappearing into the moonlight, a thousand apologies falling from your lips as you scurry out the door, shouldering people too. On the kitchen stool, house vacant as the rest of guys headed back home for the holidays, Riki runs his hands through his hair, cursing at himself for scaring you when he had you. Plentiful curse words cross his minds, cut off by the blare of his phone lighting up on the kitchen marble counter.

Unknown number: hey, i got your number for jake. sorry for the unexpected text (╥﹏╥)

Unknown number: my housemate's boyfriend broke up with her and i think we've eaten enough ice cream and egged his house for her to go back home feeling okay. i don't like how i left things, but i at least wanted to explain and apologise before anything. im sorry 

Unknown number: if you're still around, you're welcome to come round mine or i can come yours. i'd just like to talk things out if you're willing to. i'm really sorry once again <3

Being mad at you hadn't even crossed his mind, but it very clearly crossed yours. And when the realisation settles, he grabs the few things he needs and bolts out the door, on his way to you. 

You're waiting outside your doorstep for him when he drifts around the corner, air cycling out his lungs as he runs the rest of the way, watching you blink back surprise, only for it muffle against his lips as he crashes onto them, face screwed in all the worry and longing he has for you. Always had for you, body pressed to yours as you melt into his embrace, hands gripping the collar of his jean jacket for dear life as you lose yourself in all things Riki.

Not much talking is done, just a lot of 'miss you's and 'God, you're it for me,' coming from Riki, wrecked when he can have you like this, splayed across your wine and charcoal of your bedspread, shorts and underwear tossed aside, folds glistening with all the arousal swimming your eyes as you cry, "Riki, please," 

"Let me, princess. Let me," he whispers breathlessly, so close to your cunt, the warmth of his breath making you shudder. "You're so fucking pretty, baby. Been dreaming of this forever." 

Speaking like a man tortured, he gives into his dreams, falling into the inevitable as he presses a kiss to your clit before licking a stripe straight from your entrance back to your clit, swallowing it with swirls of his tongue. You keen high in your throat, hands flying to his hair for stability, nails grazing his scalp as his life's purpose is to eat you out, eyes falling shut as he gets off on the withers of your body, the quivers of your breath, each time you whine his name. He catalogues it all ─ somewhere where his brain isn't present, laser-focused on the slow open mouth kisses he gives your clit, tongue swiping to the chorus of your chorus. 

"Rikiii," you whine, his eyes finding yours squinted as pleasure blooms across your face in an angelic halo. "Your fingers ─ hmph! Need them,"

"Anything you want, pretty thing," he mumbles against you, lips glistening in your slick as a two finger trace your entrance, obsessed with the quivers under his fingertips while he noses along your pelvis bone, swirling his tongue with the right pressure to chase after your incoming orgasm. "Just ask me, I'm all yours."

The impatient whines dye his ears red, eased by helpless whines as his arm extends to your chest, pushing up the flimsy material of your tank top to play with your pebbled nipples, thighs closing around his head. He doesn't care, the close proximity only gets him harder as his fingers push into your crying walls, closing in on him with everything you have. 

Your fingers pull harder on his hair, a groan stifled against your clit as his fingers curls in you, a croak in your throat echoed as the sensation ripples through your sizzling body. 

"You're so pretty when you don't know what to do with yourself," he chuckles, a harder curl of his fingers bringing a stretched groan out your bared teeth. "Feel good, baby?"

"I-I can't think," you admit, cheeks flushed and expression dazed, eyes trying to find his. "Just want you, Riki. Want all of you."

"You'll get me, princess. Let me eat you out first," he speaks with a husk, only aiding the tension-filled coil pulling in your stomach. "You taste so good, baby. I'd spend all day here if I could."

And to an extent, he does. He's so attuned to what you like, how much pressure, how much suction that it's not long before desperate gasps for air swallow the room whole, eating at the wet mess sound Riki makes between your thighs. Again, it's all secondary to the hurtle into space your body does, a cross between cries, begs and screams running out your lips as you chant his name, coming and coming. The burst of ecstasy is unlike anything you've ever felt before, body mirroring the free float you do in between someplace between time and space, body raking through with shakes Riki only feeds off, maintaining the curl of his fingers as they pump into you without restraint, tongue migrating down around his fingers to taste every drop of your come. It's the kind of fixation you couldn't concoct in your wildest dreams, everything a mere mirage as your body just takes whatever Riki gives, sucking your clit and fingering you until you're shivering from overstimulation, bedsheets wet beneath your butt as you struggle for air. 

Riki is nice enough to allow you the time between when he removes his mouth off your cunt to pressing your lips again for you to breathe, whining against your lips as his tongue darts into your mouth, your head tipped back as your syrupy head lives off the taste of you two mixed, getting every bit of obsession of you two together. 

"Don't we taste so good together?" he'd asked and even then, you agreed. More so now that with the bloom of softness and intimacy between you, fingers curled in his strands as he rids himself of his pesky clothes, not having the heart to separate your lips as you help get rid of his trousers and boxers. 

When he does, you do like you did back then in his room, fingers tracing the tattoo on his ribcage with a hungry fever, a kiss pressed into the kiss mark just near his hip before your teeth sink into the mole on the other hip. You're feral, one-track minded as Riki consumes all your thoughts, back pushed back down into the plush of your mattress as your legs spread, head lifted to view him hold his hard cock in his hand, tip weeping as his body folds with desperation, tip smearing your folds with precome. 

"Tell me you want it," Riki gruffs out, eyebrows knitted with parted lips. "Beg me to fuck you."

"Riki, please fuck me," impatience and frustration extend every letter of your plea, similar tears lining your eyes as your hand lowers to spread your folds, enticing him by the bite of his lips. "Your cock would feel so good in me. Am I not yours?"

"Fuck, you are." He says immediately.

"Then make me yours."

It's all he needs to hear, having had enough of his own games before he pushes in, both your mouths falling open at the stretch of him gliding in, your walls gripping him with all the hunger you have for him and more. The molten burn curls your toes and grits your teeth, feeling Riki everywhere accessible to your senses, breath stunted by the fill of him as he feeds himself until he's buried to the hilt, rewriting any concept you know of pleasure to him. 

He stalls in you, chest rising and falling as all his eyes consume is you, your body beneath him, cunt stuffed with his twitching length, cheeks dusted in pink with a body quivering to the size of him, pupils blown to your eye colour serving as a ring around them, so gone for him he doesn't know how he maintains his composure. Just strokes hair out your face with the back of his fingers before he starts thrusting.

He doesn't start off slow, fast-forwarding to the moment he's pondered when alone and everything about this doesn't compare. Not in the slightest, the warmth of your skin, the squeeze of your cunt, the cries you do as your stomach pulls in overload, nails scraping at the duvet cover with forgotten restraint. Everything about this, he will never get over, refuses to and with the look you give him, he thinks you share the sentiment. 

He notches himself harder into you, groaning at the high keen you do as your eyes roll back, blinking tears away as you cry. "Kisses, Riki."

"You're so fucked out, I've barely done anything, princess," he purrs, a carnal feeling conjured in his chest as he lowers himself down to you, safety-pin pendant on his chain feeding into your mouth as you suck on it. "Your mouth's lonely, huh baby? Need to keep it stuffed, don't I?"

You nod around the pendant, all teary and doll eyed at him, gasping for air as you let it go, finger curling around it to pull him closer. "Kiss me." 

"Manners."

"Pleaseeeee!" it comes out so rushed, so pathetic you can't quite believe the voice belongs to you, so high you only seek what you want. And what you want is him. "Pretty please, need you. Need your lips, want it so bad, 'Ki."

"Open your mouth." 

All commands come out with such authority your body always falls into compliance, lips parted as spit lands at the back of your tongue, at the back of your tongue. Your mouth closes to taste him, whimpering at the taste. "Again, again. Please,"

"You're so greedy, baby," he replies, voice frayed by the grip of your cunt, smacking bodies bouncing off your cluttered walls. "It's okay, I want you too. Need you always."

He gives in, jaw unhinged under a dominating hand that keeps your mouth open for his spit, the force of its landing closing your eyes and contracting your body, a squeal muffled to your closed lips before his lips find them, kissing you like a man possessed. Kissing and tasting everywhere, making sure to fuck you through it all, nails scraping down his shoulder blades and back as he hits your sweet spot again and again. 

You could cry. You do, stray tears escaping the squeeze of your eyes, their trail licked by Riki as he separates from you, sharing breaths with his forehead against yours before he leaves altogether, firm hand pressing into the bulge peeking through as he thrusts in, a whimper out your lips. 

"Rikiiii," you moan, so lost. "So good. You fuck me so─ngh, so good."

"I do, don't I, princess?" he muses, composure fraying further as he feels his tip against his palm. "You're close, can feel you clenching for me,"

"You gonna be my good girl and come on my cock?"

The coil in your stomach is so impossibly tight, you don't know much more you can take, frantic breaths choked back sobs as you swipe tears out your eyes, looking at him despite the fact. "Yes. I'll be your good girl, best girl. I'm gonna come."

"Who's making you come, baby?" he asks, his husky voice all around you, your legs pushed to your chest as he leans his bodyweight into you. You cry. "Tell me."

"You, Riki. You!" you sob, stumped by your intercepted breath as he pushes further into you, face so close that your lips brush as you whine. "You're gonna make me come."

The coil snaps, everything coming afterwards. The cry of your lungs, the suspension of your breath and the dismantling of your body, so malleable to Riki's whims you accept him whole, hold his face as he ruts into the last few times, whispering words that make you clench around him. 

"God, you're milking me princess," he whimpers, eyebrows screwed tight. "Gonna keep you nice and stuffed. You want it, don't you?"

You do, a chorus of agreements and kisses peppering his face as he shatters in your hold, burying himself deepest in you as he convulses, swallowing the room in his drawn out moans and curses as he gives a few half-hearted ruts before collapsing onto you, going soft in you as he keeps you plugged. 

"You're everything I want," he confesses, pink in his cheeks and tip of his nose as he caresses hair out your hair, easing off you. "Tell me you're mine, that I can take you out."

Merriment flutters in your chest, producing the giggle you do as you cast hair behind his ear, loving the overgrown look of his bleached hair. "Took you long enough." 

He smiles, the boxy kind that makes your heart soar before he giggles, kissing you with everything between the two of you, together as one. 

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“not really, no,” the lie slips out effortlessly, your voice raspy with sleep. you’re not sure why you even feel like you shouldn’t tell him the truth, but you figure keeho probably had a good reason for that, and you’re not going to question it. “what are you doing?”

planting your feet on the floor, you lean forward to see the map better. you recognise it to be the town right outside the forest – you passed through it before you ended up here, so you still remember the layout quite well. there are a few places encircled, probably some old stores or gas stations they haven’t checked out yet, some other crossed out with little notes like ‘no pass’ or ‘STAY AWAY’ next to them. 

“we’re trying to plan out our route for today,” keeho murmurs, tapping the back of the sharpie on one of the marked spots, “this is the place we were trying to get to yesterday. it used to be a hospital, so we’re hoping to find some medicine and first aid there.” your eyes follow the movements of his hand as he drags the pen along one of the streets, “that's where we stumbled on that other survivor group. we have no way of knowing if they're still anywhere near, so we're gonna have to take the longer path past the church, just in case.”

you purse your lips in thought as you lean closer, eyes scanning the map intently. the walk to get to the town from here is long enough on its own, and if you go through the outskirts it will surely take several days until you even reach the hospital.

“we can go through there,” you point to another road with your finger after a moment – one that’s crossed out on the map.

it’s intak who speaks up this time, shaking his head. “the street is barricaded, there’s no way to go past it.”

your eyebrows pull together in a confused frown as you shake your head. “no, it’s not.”

both of their gazes snap up at that. intak tilts his head, looking almost like a confused puppy, while keeho seems more irritated than anything, “we’ve been there multiple times, there’s a–”

“i passed through there two days ago,” the words come out firmer this time, “maybe they took it down, i don’t know, but it’s definitely passable.”

the younger man squints his eyes at you, as if he’s trying to get a feel of whether you’re telling the truth or not. there’s a moment where the two of you look at each other in silence, before he leans back with a shrug, “well, if she says so–”

“we’re not going there.”

keeho’s voice cuts him off, sharp and final. both of your heads turn towards him at the same time.

a long, frustrated sigh slips past your lips, “i just said it’s–”

“and i just said we’re not going there,” he doesn’t let you finish either. 

“keeho,” intak tries to intervene, placing a hand on his shoulder when he senses the upcoming argument, but keeho brushes him off instantly.

his eyes narrow, hands twitching on top of the table like he’s fighting the urge to clench them, “all we know is that last time we checked that road was blocked, and that we don’t have the time to go all the way there just to turn back around.”

you can feel the anger slowly but surely building up inside you as you roll your eyes, your heart thumping faster in your ribcage. you knew he had some kind of authority over them, but the way he thinks he can order you around makes it clear that he hasn’t had someone stand up to him in way too long.

“good thing we won’t have to then, because it’s not fucking barricaded,” you can’t keep the irritation out of your tone anymore, your sleepiness long forgotten. “i get that you don’t trust me yet, but i’m literally going there as well, i have no reason to try to fuck with you.”

keeho only bristles at that, bracing both hands on the table to lean forward, “and i have no reason to lead my team into a death trap because of something you say.”

you swear your vision turns red for a fraction of a second. the infuriating back-and-forth feels pointless, as if he’s doing it with the sole goal of pissing you off, and he’s been doing a damn good job at it so far. you let out a long, dragged-out exhale, lowering your head to press the balls of your hands into your eye sockets.

there’s no way you’re going to let him win that easily, even if it’s just for the sake of being petty.

“fine, let’s vote then. it’s one vote for yes and one for no,” your hands drop onto the table as you speak with the determination to bring him down a peg, gaze flickering over to intak, who’s only been watching the situation evolve until now. “intak?”

his eyes widen at the sudden mention of his name, shoulders tensing. it feels like he found himself between a rock and a hard place with the way both of you are watching him with an intimidating amount of intensity, as if you’re ready to jump him if he chooses the other one.

intak’s harsh gulp is the only sound in the silence that fills the room. when he finally speaks, his voice is quiet, his body curling inward like he’s bracing for impact.

“...i think we should check out that road again.”

your lips curl into a satisfied smirk as you lean back, arms crossing at your chest. your eyes lock with keeho’s – he’s staring you down with his jaw clenched tightly, huffing air out of his nose as he struggles to keep his temper intact. you hold his gaze undisturbed, full of confidence and pride after managing to press on his buttons once again. for a second, it’s almost as if there’s a tiny, barely there glimmer of that same reluctant interest from earlier in his eyes, when he slams his hands on the table, a bit harder than necessary, and pushes himself to his feet with a curse murmured under his breath.

“you better pray you’re right,” he grumbles, walking past without sparing you another glance. “get ready. we leave in ten.”

#♡

the sound of boots shuffling over dried leaves fills your ears as you move through the forest, with keeho in the front and you covering the rear with intak. 

the sun has barely risen past the horizon, the area bathed in its warm-coloured light and the night breeze still present, blowing under your clothes and seeping into your bones. the woods stretch up ahead, not peaceful – never that – but calm, as you take the same exact path that lead you here a few days ago. you can only hope the biters you heard then have dispersed by now.

keeho keeps the pace steady, eyes constantly scanning the surroundings as he grips the handle of his axe tightly. you noticed him flinching almost invisibly at a rustling noise or an animal running by a few times already, fully focused on staying sharp and vigilant – contrary to intak, who, although also tense, munches on a cereal bar as you walk.

“so, what were you up to before all this?” his words are hushed and slightly muffled by the food in his mouth, his other hand swinging his machete front and backwards with every step.

you reflexively wince at the sound of his voice, eyes roaming over the trees anxiously. you’re not used to anyone talking next to you while you’re out in the open, always focused on staying as quiet as possible to avoid any possible danger, even though you can tell this is just a fraction of how loud he can be when he really wants to. 

“uh… working, i guess,” you answer after a moment of hesitation, keeping your tone close to a whisper. “i was in uni, too.”

intak hums in understanding, fully unaware of, or unbothered by, the crumbs littering his lips. “what was your job?”

a crack coming from somewhere to your side makes you flinch – probably a branch or some old trash laying around, but it still makes you bristle, the grip on your knife tightening.

“um… hospitality,” you hesitate a little before answering, gaze still searching for the source of the noise in the bushes. you don’t need to mention being let go from your job just yet. “it was just part-time.”

“oh, okay! what about–”

keeho suddenly stops dead in his tracks, making you let out a quiet, surprised grunt when you walk face-first into his back.

“can you guys shut up for a second?” he snarls, voice hushed, and holds a hand up as a signal to stay still, eyes frantically scanning the nearest area. intak opens his mouth to either protest or ask about what the hell is going on, but he clamps his hand over his mouth before any sound makes it out.

then you hear it – the same crunching sound as before, this time closer, louder. it’s quickly followed by another one, and then another. no one needs to say it out loud; when your gaze locks with keeho’s, you know.

“hide,” all of you disperse at the command from his mouth, slipping out of the path and between the trees as quietly as possible. 

your heart is thumping in your chest as you press your back against one of the wider trunks, weapon clutched to your chest. when you turn your head you can intak is doing the same on the other side of the road, pushing his half-eaten breakfast into his pocket, and keeho must be somewhere behind you, since you can’t spot him from where you are. 

the snarling and groaning gets louder, accompanied by the shuffling of dirt under shoes as the biters slowly near. the hairs on your nape stand on end, your chest rising slowly with each shallow breath you force short not to make a sound. you’re not sure how long it takes before the monsters enter your line of sight – could be mere seconds as well as a few minutes – and your stomach twists in repugnance, just like it does every time, despite the years of conditioning. three bodies that used to be human once are now wrapped in rotten flesh, limbs either missing or twisted in unnatural angles, jaws hanging open weakly. one of them has its stomach cut open, tangled intestines hanging from the cavity and swinging with every limp step like a grim swing, while another one’s torso is pierced with multiple bullet wounds. you wonder if it was its cause of death or if someone else failed to protect themselves from it.

you only allow yourself a deeper breath once the group has passed by, still within sight but far enough to be safe, your shoulders slumping as the immediate threat is gone. slowly, with your back still glued to the mossy bark, you lean your head out from behind the tree to check if there are any more biters on the way.

another figure peeks from the other side of the trunk at the same time, just slowly enough to go unnoticed at first. but the low, throaty gurgle makes your blood run cold immediately, your head snapping back to be met with the milky, hollow eyes right in front of yours, bloody teeth clacking against each other and reaching toward you while you’re frozen in your spot. 

you don’t think, your instincts kicking in full-force as you adjust your grip on your knife and reach your arm back, about to swing as hard as you can–

before your hand has the chance to come down, the biter’s head slams into the tree, the moans quietening at once as it splits horizontally at the temple, decayed brain matter splashing across the trunk and your face. the stray falls to the ground, the hairy top of its head hanging by a mere thread of skin.

“you alright?” keeho asks, yanking his axe from the wood with a quiet grumble, before turning his gaze to you and taking in the surprise, and gore, on your face.

the corners of his mouth twitch upwards momentarily, but he forces them down when you wipe your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket, expression twisting from startlement to pure disgust.

“uh… yeah,” the murmur leaves your lips roughly, nose scrunching from the nauseating smell as you shake the grime off your hand. “maybe warn me next time, though.”

keeho cocks an eyebrow, as if about to leave a snarky comment, but ultimately decides against it, probably taking pity on you; he crouches over to wipe the blade of his weapon on the grass, before nodding intak over and stepping back on the path, leaving you with no choice but to suck it up and follow as if nothing ever happened.

the biters you encountered must have been the only ones in that part of the forest, because the rest of the walk to the outskirts of the nearby town is rather uneventful. intak finishes his candy bar quietly, guilt hanging over him like an anvil, and even folds the wrapper neatly after instead of crumpling it in his hand. keeho doesn’t say anything either, keeping watch over the road, but you can feel his gaze shifting to you whenever you drag a hand over your face yet another time or make an attempt to pick the gray-pink-ish substance out of your hair, biting back a smirk at your death glares.

your steps slow down after breaching the town’s perimeter, each turn thought through and planned, all of you aware of how much more dangerous the areas that used to be more populated are. not much has changed since the last time you were here a couple of days ago: abandoned cars with no gas and flat tires, the less picky plants already making their home on the metal surfaces, store windows broken, barricaded, and then broken again, building walls covered in graffitis with corny movie quotes from when the teenagers still thought of the apocalypse as something cool and thrilling instead of the end of the world back in the early days. the air is chilly and thick with the sense of impending doom as you navigate through the shadows and side alleys to avoid being out in the open, the constant, far-away groans keeping you alert at all times. 

you walk until your legs ache, your lower back letting out unpleasant noises every time you try to stretch out, the weight of your backpack seemingly getting heavier with every street passed. the sky is cloudy, but the sun peeking through tells you it must be way past noon already by the time keeho stops by an overturned, rusted garbage truck, and raises his hand.

“let’s take a break here.”

both you and intak slump against the side of the vehicle, legs giving out at the first real pause since dawn, gulping down water from the shared canteen he takes out of his bag. keeho crouches down by the brick wall opposite you, the axe resting on his thighs on standby.

“we’re making good time,” the younger one murmurs, leaning his head back and letting his eyes fall closed. “we can stay here for a while. we should be able to get to the hospital before dark anyway.”

“no. we have to keep moving,” keeho counters without missing a beat, his sharp gaze locking with yours. “if that street’s still barricaded, we need to be ready to turn back around and take the other route.”

the urge to roll your eyes is almost overwhelming, but you settle on letting out a long, obnoxiously irritated sigh – one that doesn’t escape his attention, but is not enough of an objection to call you out.

“or–” you chime in, “we could find a place to stay overnight, get to the hospital tomorrow, and not risk ending up on the streets after sundown.”

“staying here for any longer than necessary is already too much of a risk.”

you click your tongue at keeho’s rebuttal. it seems like no matter what you say, it’s always the worst idea in his mind.

the tone of your voice wavers as you try your best not to let it raise from the irritation, “yes, but we don’t know what we’ll find in the hospital. if searching it takes longer than we planned we’ll–”

“then we should make sure it doesn’t, no?” on the contrary, he sounds almost pleased while countering your every thought, his tone dripping in faux-sweetness that makes your stomach turn.

you throw your arms in the air, too exhausted to take the same twisted joy in arguing just for the sake of it. glancing to the side, you turn to intak in hopes for support, again.

the man bristles at the sudden attention, the stupid smirk on his lips from watching the two of you like a soap opera fading.

he clears his throat and scratches the back of his neck, gaze flickering between you and keeho, before answering with the uncertainty of a kid asked to mediate a fight between their parents: “...i don’t really wanna stay here overnight, either.”

you don’t need to look at keeho to feel the pointed look he’s throwing your way, as if silently saying i told you so. your chest inflates with  the urge to stand your ground and make them see reason, but although you’re pretty sure you could win intak over without too much hustle, there’s no way keeho will budge. especially not for your sake.

“sorry, princess,” intak holds his hands up in surrender, not actually apologetic but at least having the decency to act like it, and sends you a half-smile as he pushes himself up with a tired huff.

keeho follows suit, dusting off his pants with that shit-eating smirk on his face that makes your blood boil. when he’s back on his feet, he reaches out a hand towards you, palm open, but right now the gesture feels like he’s rubbing your loss in your face, provoking you to yell or snap or bite his head off, literally or figuratively. and you’ll be damned if you let him have that leverage over you, so you grab the side of the truck and pull yourself up with an annoyed puff of air out of your mouth, swinging your backpack over your shoulder and taking off wordlessly.

keeho only shrugs, hands slipping into his pockets before he’s catching up to you, steps now a tad lighter with the pride of getting under your skin. 

unbeknownst to you, intak lags behind, arms crossed at his chest. his eyebrows crease as he tilts his head to the side, dark irises glued to both of your backs, tongue pushing on the inside of his cheek like he’s trying to solve some sort of a puzzle. but whatever the thought is, he lets it go as quickly as it came, and swings his machete over his shoulder as he jogs to the other side of the street where you are.

#♡

you keep walking for another hour or so – avoiding biters by sticking to narrow streets and walls and talking in hushed voices about anything that comes to mind to pass time. 

well, it’s mostly intak and you who do the talking. you’ve each told stories about what you were doing before the outbreak, discussed about your favorite foods from when everything was easily accessible and now that nothing is, even shared a bit of your plans for what you’re going to do when – if – the world goes back to normal, but the mood plummeted quickly so you eventually gave up on that topic. 

throughout it all, keeho stays quiet. he doesn’t join the conversation, doesn’t answer questions unless he’s asked directly; even then, his replies are vague and dismissive, as if he’s dealing with two overly curious kids instead of a friend and a barely-more-than-a-stranger. 

it pisses you off. you don’t know why, but something about his standoffish attitude rubs you the wrong way, more than any other jerk you’ve encountered along the way. it feels like the version of him from that late night on the porch was just something you imagined, nothing like the prideful and infuriatingly cocky man walking next to you and huffing at your attempts to engage in a small talk. 

“you’re not even gonna tell me what you majored in?” 

the question leaves your lips with a sigh, resigned. talking to a biter would probably be more fruitful at this point.

keeho doesn’t even spare you a glance as he answers, “does it matter?” 

you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a curse threatening to escape, the faint hint of a smirk pulling at the corners of his lips only adding fuel to your fire. he’s enjoying it, that asshole.

“no,” you counter, “but i want to know. is that a crime now?”

this time, your words could as well echo with the silence that follows, keeho giving you no response except an upturn of his mouth. you’re starting to regret your decision to join them on that run.

you’re walking along the wall of an apartment complex, nearing the intersection that they had crossed out on their map where the barricade – or, rather, the lack of thereof – should be. your steps are fast and confident, driven by the man-induced rage and the almost desperate need to get to your destination before your legs give out completely, as you take the turn.

what you see there makes a choked yelp leave your lips, your body tensing and scrambling to get back around the corner and press your back against the cold wall.

you swallow harshly as your wide-eyed gaze locks with keeho’s and intak’s questioning ones. 

“the good news is,” you say after a moment, chest heaving, “i was right about there being no barricade.”

keeho’s jaw tightens at that, his ego cracking slightly under the weight of being wrong, but he bites back a snarky remark, bracing himself for whatever is coming next. “and the bad news?”

you nod your head towards the open street, biting your lip.

“i think i would’ve rather seen a barricade.”

they both freeze at that, shivers running down their spines. they exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them, before keeho makes a move to peek out from behind the building.

you were right – there’s nothing blocking the street except some debris on the ground, probably leftovers left by whoever took the barrier down… and at least two dozen infected roaming around within a half-mile radius.

“son of a bitch,” intak lets out a curse under his breath, sticking his head out from over keeho’s shoulder to take a look himself, “why are there so many of them here?”

“the hell if i know. something must have lured them in,” the crease between keeho’s brows deepens as he takes a step back. “we gotta find a way to get past them.”

you press your lips into a thin line. your heart races as you lean out again, eyes scanning the area for an exit, a shortcut, anything that could save you a trip all the way back.

“there,” the whispered exclamation gains their attention as you point towards a small building not too far away, right next to the horde.

you remember walking past it the last time you were here, too; it used to be a pharmacy, the sign faded and hanging on only one screw, but the doors and windows are almost fully intact. the insides are probably cleaned out by now, but there might still be something left behind on the shelves that you can scavenge in addition to gaining a shelter.

“if we can get there, we can look for another exit in the back or on the rooftop,” you look back, making sure their eyes are following the direction of your finger. “we just need to distract them, somehow.”

all of you start looking around at once, patting your pockets while trying to think of an idea, when your gaze lands on the small pile of bricks from a crumbled wall on the opposite side of the street. they don’t question when you take off to grab two of them, weighing them in your hands before going back with an approving nod to yourself.

“see that car?” this time all three of you stick your heads out from behind the corner as you nod towards the vehicle parked on the sidewalk a little further and across the street from the old pharmacy. “if we can throw these all the way there, it should make enough noise to lure them away from the entrance. maybe the alarm still works, too, if we’re lucky.”

after that, you turn around once again and stretch both of your arms out towards them. “which one of you can throw better?”

keeho barely has the chance to open his mouth before intak’s taking one of the bricks out of your hand, rolling out his shoulders in a way that seems way too eager for the situation. “i can do it.”

you raise your eyebrow, amused, as your gaze locks with keeho’s. he only rolls his eyes, but doesn’t intervene.

both of you watch as he steps out onto the street, preparing yourselves to run while he jumps a few times in place like he’s an athlete about to set his personal best score before hauling his arm back, and throwing the brick over the biters’ heads.

instead of the car, it crashes into a dumpster with a loud bang – far too close to you for your liking. a few of them turn their heads towards the source of the sound, rotten bodies turning around sluggishly one by one and slowly limping your way.

“give me that,” keeho growls out, wasting no more time before snatching the other brick out of your hand and pulling intak away by the back of his clothes, ignoring his surprised gasp.

he takes a swing and launches the block without hesitation, this time landing it right into the windshield. the alarm goes off just before the biters get too near, the blaring beeping successfully catching their attention and steering them away, clearing your path for a short while.

“go, go, go!” 

you take off at keeho’s cue, staying low as you jog towards your destination, steps as quiet as possible. the door of the pharmacy opens without resistance when you push, letting everyone in before closing it and pressing your back against it. 

a long, relieved exhale leaves your lips as you allow your shoulders to slump, knees almost buckling under your weight when the adrenaline starts to wear off. you can hear the frantic thumping of your heart over the muffled sound of sirens coming from the outside when you look out the window to make sure no biters followed you. keeho bends over, resting his hands on his knees as he catches his breath, while intak discards his bag before lowering himself to the floor and leaning back against one of the shelves.

“i’m gonna kill you one of these days,” keeho mutters between pants, sending a glare towards the other man, who curls into himself with a sheepish frown.

turning back around, you let your gaze wander over the interior of the store – it’s small enough that you can see every corner from where you’re standing right now, a few empty racks standing between you and the counter at the far end, a mix of blood, dirt, and spiderwebs covering the walls and floor tiles. a few rays of sunlight come in from the holes in the broken ceiling, metal scaffolding bending under the weight of time and corrosion. it seems like you were correct about there not being much left to take, but it surely won’t hurt to take a look around now that you’re here anyway.

you let yourselves rest until the car alarm turns off, taking it as a sign to hurry up and do what has to be done before you’re spotted. each of you covers a different part of the place, scanning the shelves and digging through trash and empty packages in search of anything remotely useful you could take back to the safehouse.

“i found some batteries,” you hum, already unzipping your backpack. “i think they should work with your flashlights.”

there’s a beat of silence and some rustling before intak’s voice reverberates from somewhere behind you.

“i’ve got, uh… dried apples,” you can hear the contents of the bag rattling as he shakes it. “they’re expired but, i mean… can they even expire?”

you let out an airy chuckle. “i’m… not sure, actually. but you should take them just in case.” the sound of your boots hitting the floor echoes in the room quietly as you move onto checking the next shelf. “keeho? you got anything?”

“found some hydrogen peroxide.”

his answer makes your eyebrows shoot up. “really?”

“yeah. the bottle was under the bottom rack, that’s probably why no one took it yet,” he mutters. “it’s sealed, too.”

it sound almost too good to be true. you weren’t expecting to find anything worthwhile in here, but that’s basically liquid gold in this world. unable to help yourself, you abandon your current task and make your way towards where his voice is coming from, needing to see with your own eyes to believe it. “no way. are you sure it’s not past the date?”

“i can read just fine, you know.”

keeho’s remark reaches your ears and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes when you turn the corner, but the reply dies on your tongue as soon as you step into the aisle he’s in. all colour drains out of your face, eyes widening as they catch the sight of the ceiling hanging dangerously low right behind him, specks of dust flying in the air.

“keeho–”

the man looks up at you, unaware, as he keeps mumbling under his breath. “should’ve found this before i had to pour vodka all over my fucking–”

a small piece of debris that falls next to his feet catches his attention, and he cuts off with a confused frown, head tilting down.

the ceiling creaks.

you lurch forward, grabbing his arm and yanking as hard as you can. a strained gasp comes out of his mouth as his body crashes onto the tiles and pulls you with him, just as the rubble collapses right where he was seconds ago. 

for the next few long moments you can’t hear anything over the ringing in your ears and your frantic coughing as the dust fills your lungs. your eyes are closed, and all you know is that there’s something between you and the floor.

slowly, as the worst of the shock subsides, you lift your head and blink your eyes open. the first thing you see, although a bit blurry, is the gaping hole in the ceiling, the evening sun illuminating the pile of rocks beneath it like a spotlight. the second is keeho’s face, scrunched up in pain or startlement – or both – and barely an inch or two away from yours, his dark eyes already locked on you when you look down. your hands are braced on either side of his head, your chest pressed flush against his, and there’s something in the way he’s staring at you that makes your breath catch in your throat, his own coming in hot pants against your lips.

you’re not sure how much time passes like this, until intak’s voice brakes through the haze in your head and brings you back to reality.

“uh, guys… i hate to break the moment, but i think we should go.”

both your and keeho’s eyes snap back up just in time to see the room darken – the light coming in through the display windows blocked out by the horde from earlier, now banging against the glass and the door. the crash must have lured them in.

“fuck–” you scramble to your feet, disregarding the ache in your wrists and knees from the fall. you offer keeho a hand and pull him up with a single, sharp tug. “we need to find an exit!”

the growling is getting louder, windows rattling in the frames from the force of a few tens of biters trying to force their way inside, as you run around the store in search of a way out of this mess. you check the ceiling, but it’s too high up and probably too unstable to hold under the weight of all three of you with the hole in the center. the front is out of question, and you can’t see any other doors around, so you stumble towards the storage room in the back.

it’s completely dark, no windows in this part of the store, except for the light coming in from behind you and the small stripe near the floor at the far end. a back door.

you run through the inventory, shoulders bumping into empty shelves you barely manage to dodge. every ragged breath feels like sandpaper against your throat, your dust-filled lungs burning in your chest, stomach contracting into a tight ball. 

your body collides into the door with impact so hard it takes your breath away for a second, clammy hands curling around the handle and tugging, but to no avail. it’s locked.

without thinking, you slam your shoulder into the wood once, then twice, ignoring the pain blooming in the joint and the bruise that’s probably already forming beneath your skin.

“it won’t budge!” the words leave your mouth as a pained, almost helpless cry. sweat drips down your forehead as your arm pounds into the exit over and over again, each time gentler than the previous one as the power drains out of you.

a sudden crash coming from the main part of the pharmacy makes you freeze, all of the blood draining from your face. you can hear the sound of glass shattering, right before the moans of the undead rise in volume, and bodies thump against the floor.

keeho runs back to the door and presses his back against it to hold it closed as intak grabs your shoulder and yanks you away from the door, almost sending you right into one of the metal racks. “move!” 

the shelf rattles when you stumble into it, hands flying out to grab at the railing to keep upright. intak slams his shoulder into the door just like you did, but that doesn’t work this time either. with a hissed out curse, he steps back, and slams the sole of his boot against the handle. nothing. keeho groans in effort as the biters start pushing against the entrance.

intak tries again, this time taking a bigger run-up before kicking, and the door finally gives, the lock clattering onto the tiles.

“come on!” he yells, holding the door open while you hurry through, and looks back at his older friend. the man hesitates for a moment longer, digging his heels into the tiled floor as the biters try to force their way through the door he’s holding, but you all know he won’t last much longer like this.

with a deep breath, he pushes off at once and runs straight for the exit. the infected pile in, tripping over each other from the sudden lack of pressure pushing back at them, snarling and stretching their crooked fingers towards where the two men disappear behind a half-closed door.

you watch them rush out of the pharmacy together, onto a side-alley between two larger buildings with a fenced dead-end on one side. there’s a garbage bin in front of it, but more biters are already gathering on the other side and weighing on the wire, so between the two hordes, you’re fucked.

“we gotta run!” you take off forward into the alley –  the only direction safe, for now, only briefly glancing back to check if the guys are following you. this is not one of the places in the town that you’ve been to before, and there’s definitely no time to pull up the map in intak’s bag, so you do what you know how to do best – run as fast as your legs will carry you.

you check every door you pass, every back exit and nook, but it’s like the universe is playing a cruel prank on you with the way all of them are locked shut and barricaded with planks right when you’re in need of an escape more desperately than ever.

“let’s just break it open,” intak growls out, stopping by one of the doors and pulling at the wood while bracing his foot on the brick wall, but the blockade doesn’t budge. 

you whirl around, your steps never slowing. “we don’t have the time, they’re getting closer!” you yell, running backwards towards the open street at the end of the alley, “we need to keep looking–!”

the words cut off with a startled scream when a hand grabs your arm – but both of the men are still in your line of sight, and you can see their eyes widen in fear. a wet, gurgling sound in your ear makes you recoil, head whipping back to see a biter’s face a breath away from yours. its dull irises are staring right into yours, the skin on its face dark and charred, almost melted in places as if it went through a roaring fire.

you send your knife right into its temple, the hand still gripping your shoulder and pulling you forward slightly as the body drops to the ground before it loosens up at last. keeho and intak catch up to you, and although no one says a thing, you know you’re all thinking the same.

the street in front of you is just as swarmed with the infected, the groans and moans coming from both sides of you now, almost deafening in their loudness. there’s way too many of them to push past unnoticed.

“fuck–!” you step back instinctively, turning around to maybe try one of the doors you passed one more time – but the horde following you is nearing, too close to turn back. you’re surrounded.

think, think, think.

the manhole? you won’t open it without a crowbar.

the windows? the biters will come in after you if you break them.

your gaze lifts. 

the balcony?

“the balcony!” you yell out, pointing your finger at the platform. the apartment is on the first floor, so it’s low enough that you’ll be able to reach it if you jump but not so low the biters will. “come on!”

keeho is already there by the time you reach the place, interlacing his fingers to create space for a foot. “you go first, i’ll boost you up!”

his face contorts in pain when he lifts you up, the weight of your body straining on his injured arm, but he doesn’t dare to complain now. his hands give you the additional height you need, your boot digging into his skin as you catch onto the railing to pull yourself up, swinging one leg over and then the other, until you’re standing a few meters above the ground.

you slide your backpack off your shoulders and throw it off to the side before leaning out, stretching your arms down to help intak up. he’s on the balcony even faster than you were with the assist of four hands instead of two, and the only one left on the ground level now is keeho.

the metal balustrade digs into your hip bones when you reach down to grab his hand too, and he has to step onto the edge of an empty flowerbed to catch it. a yawp of effort tears out of your throat as you lift him enough to let him grab the horizontal bar and pull himself up–

his foot slips off the edge when one of the biters snatches his other one, a choked up gasp leaving his mouth when he’s pulled down, palms holding on for dear life.

you jump back to him immediately, gripping onto his arms, his jacket, whatever you can reach, to not let him fall. “intak!” 

the said man charges forward, fueled by pure adrenaline, and slices his machete through the monster’s head. it collapses onto the ground, letting go of keeho’s ankle and allowing you to pull him all the way up, until all three of you are standing above the horde, backs glued to the building’s wall as you catch your breaths.

the sight makes your blood run cold. the group of biters right underneath your feet, stumbling and pushing each other in futile attempts to reach you with their rotten hands, and even more already limping towards you from both sides of the alley, lured in by the sound of the others. the relief you felt initially morphs into something heavier. it doesn’t feel nearly as safe up here as you thought it would.

“come on, guys,” your words are more exhausted than hopeful, your voice carrying a nearly resigned edge. “let’s get inside before every biter in this town hears the news.”

#♡

the apartment is surprisingly well-kept – most of it plundered, yes, but whoever was there must have been nice enough to not leave too much of a mess behind after grabbing their haul. you split up, taking your time to check every room to make sure no one is there besides you, peeking into cabinets and rummaging through drawers in search of anything usable or edible. 

“there are no corpses or walkers anywhere. the owner must’ve left when shit hit the fan,” keeho murmurs, walking back into the living room after inspecting the bathroom, a tube of peppermint toothpaste in his hand. “but it’s getting late and the walkers on the street aren’t leaving any time soon, so me might have to spend the night here.”

you don’t look up from where you’re shuffling through the contents of the utensil drawer in the open kitchen as you muse, “which is exactly what i said we should do a few hours ago.” a sigh. “you guys really should start listening to me sometimes.”

you miss the way keeho rolls his eyes, but you assumed he would, anyway, and the thought alone makes you bite the inside of your cheek to hold back a smirk. “found any food yet?” 

the question is directed more towards intak next to you, who’s diligently opening each and every cabinet in the kitchen. the dimple in his cheek deepens with the frown tugging at his lips when he’s met with only some spiderwebs. “not yet.”

he moves on to open the door to the fridge in the corner, but the sickening stench of rot that puffs from the inside right into his face makes him flinch back and slam it shut. “nope. definitely no food.”

“well, it’s good we took some from the safehouse,” the drawer shuts with a soft click when you nudge it closed with your hip. you’re about to add something more, but you catch a glimpse of keeho raising an eyebrow at the knife you’ve taken out from the corner of your eye, his arms crossed at his chest. “what? it won’t hurt to have another one.”

he watches you for a moment more, shaking his head in a way that makes him look almost like a disapproving parent, but ultimately doesn’t make anymore comments about it. he rummages through the bag intak left on the couch, pulling out two cans of vegetables before making his way towards you and placing them on the kitchen island with a quiet clank.

“alright, let’s eat. we should sleep early tonight.”

the meal goes by in comfortable silence, broken only by the sound of your spoons hitting the bowls and feeble attempts at small talk from intak every once in a while. the sun has gone down, flashlights put inside tall glasses to stay upright on the table bathing the living room in soft light, accentuating the hard lines of your faces and the bruise-like bags under your eyes. 

intak leans back against the backrest of the couch, stretching his arms over his head with an unnecessarily loud yawn.

“that was good,” a lie, but at least it’s an attempt to bring your spirits up. he pushes himself up from the stained pillows, his back cracking loudly from staying in one position too long. “i’m gonna go look around some more. maybe we’ll get lucky.”

he doesn’t wait for approval from either of you before he disappears behind the doors to one of the other rooms, steps unhurried, leaving you and keeho alone in the near darkness. 

there’s a long moment where neither of you speaks, the comfortable silence now shifting into something that makes the hairs on your arms bristle. not tense, no, just… different.

it’s keeho who speaks first. his legs are stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankles, hands behind his head as he stares at the ceiling. his tone is as calm and unbothered as always, making you think you’re the only one feeling the strange chill. “you still have those cigarettes?”

you tilt your head to face him, forehead creasing, “no, i left them in the safehouse.” a short pause. “didn’t wanna carry anything more than what’s necessary.”

he lets out a hum, slightly disappointed, but almost as if he’s trying not to let it show. “you know taeyang’s probably gonna treat himself to those, right?”

that manages to pull a quiet huff of air from your mouth – not quite a laugh, but close. 

“well, you could have told me that before we left,” you purse your lips.

“yeah,” keeho reciprocates the slight, barely there smile, “probably should have.”

his gaze leaves whatever was so interesting on the ceiling and descends to meet yours. maybe it’s the dim lighting – it probably is – but something about it seems almost… gentler than usual. softer, in a way. in fact, his whole face just looks more relaxed, his eyebrows not leaning towards each other, lips not curled downwards for once–

you clear your throat, the sound awfully loud in the quiet room, and force your eyes lower. “how’s your arm?”

you can feel him still drilling holes into your skull a couple of seconds longer before he answers. “it’s, uh…” he gives his shoulder a testing roll, the flicker of pain in his expression not escaping your attention, “...it’s fine.”

“can i see?”

the question leaves your mouth unexpected by either of you. your breath hitches.

“i mean– you took that hydrogen peroxide from the pharmacy, right?” you curse internally at the way your voice wavers, unsure. “you should get it cleaned, see if the stitches are holding…”

the beat of silence feels like it’s stretching into hours instead of seconds, but then–

“yeah. sure.”

your finger picks at a stray thread sticking out of the hem of your pants, eyes watching the changes on his face carefully. “...do you want me to help?”

for a moment, his expression hardens, as if he’s about to refuse, but he holds back. when he finally answers, his voice has an unusual edge in it that you can’t quite put a finger on. “yeah… yeah, you know more about this than i do, so… that would be nice.”

you nod your head quickly – maybe too quickly. “okay.”

neither of you speaks while you get up and turn around to gather the things you need from your bag, at the same time giving keeho a second to get rid of his jacket and prepare mentally for another serving of pain he’s about to take. you can’t help but notice that there’s something odd about the atmosphere in this apartment, but maybe you’re just not used to scavenging with others, or maybe you’re tired and a good night of sleep will shake you out of it.

spinning around on your heel, you start to walk back towards the couch, but your fingers tighten around the cloth and gauze you’re holding in your hands.

why the fuck is he shirtless again?

keeho seems to be having a hard time meeting your gaze this time, head facing forward stubbornly and shoulders slightly slumped – a new look on him, that’s for sure.

“i got the antiseptic,” he murmurs, lifting his arm enough to show the small white bottle in his palm.

you take a deep breath, forcing yourself to square your shoulders before joining him on the couch once again.

maybe you just haven’t gotten laid in way too long.

it’s only when you pick up the flashlight from the table that you notice the colour of the bandage wrapped around his arm, a sense of worry replacing the weird weight in your stomach.

after instructing him to hold the source of light for you, you gently peel the stained gauze off his skin, fingers probing delicately around the wound as you check for swelling or any signs of infection.

“it’s looks pretty good, and it’s not bleeding anymore,” the hum is low in your throat, as you put your best efforts into focusing on the task at hand, and not the warmth of his body that suddenly feels more like a furnace next to you. “you must have ripped one of the stitches when you fell, but the rest of them seem to be holding on fine.”

keeho nods, his jaw twitching when you shift to grab the bottle next.

“you know the drill,” you look up at him, this time allowing him to brace himself before pouring the liquid over the wound, holding the cloth you grabbed earlier underneath it to avoid making a mess.

the hydrogen peroxide starts bubbling right away after being met with the dried up blood and bacteria. keeho’s hands clench into fists, the muscles of his arms and stomach tightening as he bites back a pained sound threatening to spill. 

“does it hurt?” it’s a stupid question, you know that, but you feel the need to say anything as you wipe the residue from the skin around the gash, careful not to touch the dirty rag to the wound.

“not nearly as bad as the first time.”

you’re surprised to hear a normal answer instead of something more dismissive or sarcastic, though you suppose it’s fair. you can’t imagine what pouring vodka over a fresh deep cut feels like.

your hands work quickly and precisely as you wrap a new piece of bandage around his bicep, double-checking to make sure it’s secure but not tight enough to cut off his blood flow during the night.

the whole time, keeho watches you – the way your lashes flutter against your cheeks, how your teeth chew on your lower lip as you focus, how your tongue peeks out every now and then to wet it, how your hands feel against his skin–

“keeho?”

he blinks, realising how deep in his head he’s gotten without meaning to. “yeah?”

“i asked if it wasn’t too tight,” your voice nearly cracks, again, but you can’t bring yourself to be too worried about that when all you can think of is when did you get so close to him all of a sudden?

“oh–” the word is more of an exhale than anything else, “no, no… it’s okay.”

the silence stretches between you after that – chilly, heavy, full of something unspoken. 

every instinct is screaming at you to pull back, to look away; and yet you’re stuck in place, the eye contact holding you like an unbreakable force.

then, after a beat too long to be accidental, keeho leans forward. it’s no more than half an inch, the movement so faint you could have as well imagined it. his gaze flickers over your face as if to gauge your reaction, and catches on your lips just for a fraction of a second, before going back up.

you don’t back away.

next thing you know is that one of you leans all the way in – you’re not sure which one anymore – and your lips meet. the first brush of skin against skin is feather-light, testing, eyes shutting closed.

but what was barely a touch of a butterfly wing turns into pure hunger the moment your hands come up to rest on his shoulders. something snaps between you, the incoherent tension that seemed to be following you around whenever it was just the two of you since that first moment on the porch, or maybe even earlier than that, finally giving way to a deep sheathed need.

a hushed groan leaves keeho’s mouth and resonates into yours when your lips part after the questioning brush of his tongue. his hands find their way onto your waist, flashlight abandoned on the couch pillows, fingers wasting no time before sliding under your shirt to dig into your skin, earning a gasp from you.

he pulls you closer, needing more contact, until you’re settled on his lap, your knees on either side of his hips, thighs pressing tightly against his. you wrap your arms fully around his neck in response, tongue pushing and sliding against his with fervor. one of his hands leaves your skin to tug one sleeve of your jacket off your shoulder blindly, while the other impatiently crawls up higher on your back, fingers slipping underneath the thin material of your bra.

you press closer as an answer, teeth sinking into the plush flesh of his lower lip, making his hips jerk up into yours on reflex and a choked up moan bubble out of his throat.

“hey, guys?”

the moment shatters like glass, reality dawning on you as you flinch back from each other as if you’ve been burned. you fall back on to the couch seat next to keeho, pulling your jacket tighter over yourself and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, cheeks burning as you silently thank whatever deity must be watching over you that the flashlight fell facing the other direction so intak couldn’t see you making out with his friend in the middle of the living room.

stupid.

keeho’s the first one to get his cool back, though his voice is a little strained and rougher than usual as he speaks over his shoulder, “what?”

intak, bless his heart, skips over to the two of you, a bright smile adorning his face when he clicks his own flashlight on to see you better.

“can i take the big bed?”

#♡

tomorrow arrives quickly.

you go to sleep soon after intak’s less than fortunate interruption. it would be a lie to say it’s not the best shut eye you have gotten in a long while – a separate room, a separate bed. a bed, period. one with a bouncy mattress and sheets that don’t reek of blood and death like the ones you’re used to, and the safety of being a whole story above the biters. it’s a deep, dreamless sleep, for once. maybe it’s a good omen.

in the morning, you eat a humble breakfast (whatever was left in the cans you opened yesterday) and gather your things promptly, triple-checking your bags and pockets, before moving out. the street has cleared up a bit overnight, leaving you with only a few strays to take care of as you walk out of the front door this time. 

no one talks about what happened yesterday. intak either doesn’t assume anything or just doesn’t care, while you and keeho try your best to pretend the situation didn’t take place at all. in fact, the two of you don’t talk much at all – even less so than usual, eyes stubbornly glued everywhere but each other as you go through the motions except for an occasional sneaky glance. the damage is done, but there’s nothing to dwell on here. you’re just two people who haven’t had any action for years, and judging by their behaviour, it’s their first time seeing a remotely attractive woman since it all started. of course you’d start feeling horny.

the strategy for this part of the run is the same as yesterday: stick to the shadows and avoid getting in trouble. and just like it worked then, for most part, it does now as well. within an hour or two, you’re standing in front of the large, towering building. its once modern, almost pristine white walls now stained with time and grime, wide windows that used to reflect the whole town now opaque and shattered in places, ivy crawling up the cracked concrete. graffiti marks part of the exterior, just like the rest of the buildings here, and the parking lot is littered with cars abandoned in a hurry years ago, some of them overturned or crashed into each other. the front entrance is bolted shut with some planks, the job clearly hurried and imprecise. it shouldn’t be too hard to get them off.

a gust of wind howls through empty hallways you can’t see yet – the sound so eerie it sends shivers down your spine even standing outside.

“this place is giving me the creeps,” keeho mutters under his breath, gripping his axe tighter. 

intak next to him swallows audibly, his face just a little bit paler than usual. all of a sudden, no one is too thrilled about finally reaching the goal of your run.

“i know,” you rub your arms over the material of your jacket to calm down the goosebumps rising on your skin. “so how do we do this? split up?”

keeho nods, “yeah, we split up. we can cover more ground that way.”

the hums you and intak let out lack any enthusiasm.

you give the planks a testing tug, the rusty doorframe rattling from the force of it. “a little help, big guy?”

keeho’s at your side in seconds. both of you grab onto the wood and pull until your knuckles turn white, and the bolts give even easier than you thought they would. you do the same with the boards, yanking them off one by one and throwing them off to the side until the door is fully revealed.

you dust off your hands, stepping back with a huff of fatigue. “i meant intak, but i guess that worked, too.”

the man ignores your remark, save for the faint twitch of his jaw, staring at the sliding door like he’s bracing himself for whatever is behind them. intak, on the other side, lets out a delighted chuckle, the jab at his friend feeding his ego simultaneously. his shoulder brushes against yours as he walks past the pair of you to breach the entrance first.

the lobby is swallowed in shadows where the sunlight doesn’t reach. the air smells like damp rot and something metallic… blood? medicine? maybe both? the floor is covered in trash and debris, puddles you’re not sure you want to know the contents of filling the breaks in the tiles, paint coming off the walls in flakes to make space for the thriving mold. you can hear the all too familiar growling echoing in the distance – expected, but still making your blood run cold.

keeho steps forward, boots thumping against the floor as he approaches the layout plan near the reception.

“you take the ER,” he glances back at you over his shoulder, finger pointing at the left wing of the building on the map. “intak, you check out the admin offices on the first floor. i’ll take the pharmacy. maybe the luck will be on our side this time.”

both of you nod solemnly, minds already racing to think of possible routes and emergency escapes, as he turns around to face you again.

“we meet back here in thirty minutes, sharp,” his tone is firm and commanding, like the first time you met them a few days ago. “if someone’s late, we’ll go looking for them. don’t get yourself killed.”

you shift your grip on your knife. intak adjusts the straps of his backpack, pulling out his flashlight and flicking it on, revealing more of the dust modes swirling in the air.

with the last, sharp nod from keeho, you leave the lobby.

#♡

intak keeps his posture slouched as he climbs the stairs two at a time, one trembling hand gripping the flashlight to illuminate the dark staircase while the other rests over the handle of his machete hidden in the scabbard on his belt. the sound of droplets of water hitting the floor tiles in even intervals creates an atmosphere so ominous he can almost feel bile come up his throat from how tight his stomach is clenching. the first floor is somehow quieter than the base level – he tells himself it’s a good sign, despite the worried voice in his head screaming otherwise.

he walks through the corridor until he reaches the admin wing – offices with glass partitions that have been mostly smashed in, cabinets with doors hanging on one hinge, overturned desks, and cracked monitors lying dead on their sides. files are scattered around the floor, some of them torn up or burned halfway, as if someone was trying to erase the evidence of something even after the world ended.

he heads straight for the room labeled the director’s office, one of the only ones without the see-through walls. the door is slightly ajar, and the creak it lets out when he pushes it open seems dangerously loud in the stillness. 

inside, it’s the same chaos as in the other ones: dust piled up on broken furniture, trash littered over the space like everywhere else in the world. on the chair behind the desk sits a silhouette – dead, judging by the bullet wound right in the center of its temple – the thick stench of decaying flesh filling intak’s lungs to the brim and making him wince. looking at the state of the body, it’s probably safe to assume the corpse must have been there for a long while, maybe even since the beginning. the director of the hospital couldn’t take the pressure of the dead standing up to him, apparently.

he’s light on his feet as he steps over the mess on the floor to reach the massive desk and starts pulling the drawers open, rummaging through the stacks of papers and pens and staplers in search of more useful things. a pack of gum, unopened, that he slides into his pocket with a shrug, some loose change that doesn’t have any worth now, a stethoscope…

the lowest drawer doesn’t open when he yanks on it – there’s a small keyhole right under the knob. with a frown, intak looks around, scratching his head with his free hand. he’s too intrigued to let it go now.

he searches the top of the desk, the inside of the lamp shade, under the coffee cup filled with fluffy, funny-looking fungi, but to no avail. he turns towards the frail corpse on the chair.

fuck it.

carefully, intak pats the front of the man’s shirt, checking the pockets of his coat and jeans,  but there’s no sight of a key there either. 

defeated, he slides his hand under between the body and the chair seat as the last resort, gaze drifting to the ceiling to at least pretend he’s not doing anything weird by feeling a dead man’s bony ass, and then– there it is. the outline of a tiny metal key in the backpocket.

he grins giddily, almost skipping in place as he pulls it out gently and inserts it into the lock, twisting a few times until the drawer clicks open.

and inside? a single, semi-auto pistol, clean and well-kept, with initials engraved into the handle.

the corners of intak’s lips pull into a sly smirk.

#♡

the ER looks like something straight out of a horror movie as keeho moves past the lined up beds soundlessly. every other cot has a dead body on top of it, each in a different stage of deterioration, pools of blood dried black covering the once sterile white walls and floors, various medical equipment he doesn’t understand shattered on the tiles beyond recognition. one gurney lays overturned in a doorway like something knocked it aside during chaos. the air is stale, reeking of a sickening mix of bodily fluids and rot so bad he has to press the sleeve of his jacket over his mouth and nose to keep going.

keeho always thought he had a strong stomach but, somehow, for the first time in months, he’s suddenly not hungry at all.

he steps over spilled supplies – old syringes crunching under his boots – and pauses by an open cabinet; some paperwork, patient gowns, gloves. nothing worthwhile.

a frustrated huff leaves his nose. he had hoped for something left behind in the ER, at least a single bottle of painkillers, but it’s been looted clean. he checks his watch – fifteen minutes since they split up. there’s still some time to look around.

with a sigh, keeho moves towards the double door at the far end of the room leading towards the examination rooms–

a muffled sound from somewhere behind makes him freeze mid-step. he whips his head towards the sound, one hand gripping his axe tightly, muscles coiled. cold sweat breaks out on his neck when the sound comes again – a soft scuff, like something being dragged across the floor. 

slowly, he places foot after foot as he walks towards one of the thinner doors on the side where the noise is coming from, weapon raised in vigilance. the other arm peels away from his face to gently push the door open, the stream of light from his flashlight brightening up the small storage. 

but before he can take another step inside, a heavy weight pushes him backwards, causing him to stumble. the flashlight falls from his hand and clatters onto the floor as he holds the walker back with his forearm, his back crashing into a nearby wall. it groans loudly, teeth clattering barely a breath away from keeho’s nose, thin, crooked arms reaching towards him with the primal need to feed. 

keeho’s arm shakes from the effort, all of his muscles taut to keep the monster’s jaw away despite the ache spreading towards his elbow from the injured area. with a low, pained grunt, he gathers all of his strength to deal a stronger blow to its neck, gaining a few seconds and enough leverage to swing the blade. 

for the next moment, the only sound in the room is his heavy panting and the heavy thump of a body collapsing onto the ground. dark blood drips on his boots from the axe still raised in the air until he’s calmed down enough to come back to his senses, knees buckling and head spinning from the sudden drop of adrenaline.

he bends over to pick up the flashlight from where it rolled under a knocked over IV stand, and cracks his neck on both sides to get rid of the leftover tension.

there’s still ten minutes left.

#♡

you scan the shelves of the pharmacy with your gaze – most of the prescription bottles are long gone, lids and stray pills scattered over the floor as if mocking you. 

it was to be expected that this would be the place that got ransacked first when shit went down, people grabbing whatever medicine they could get their hands on, no matter if they couldn’t understand half the words on the label. but there was still a tiny spark of hope somewhere deep inside you that after all this hustle to get here, after risking your lives for this one trip, you would find something – though that spark dims with every empty cabinet you open. no medicine, no gauzes, band-aids, even antiseptics you managed to randomly find in that other pharmacy. all you can do is cross your fingers that the others got more luck on their sides.

you kneel to pick up a first-aid box, careful to avoid the pieces of shattered glass on the floor. it’s rusty at the edges, the red cross on the top faded and dirty, and the hinges are barely holding on. it creaks when you open it; inside, there’s a bottle labeled ibuprofen – when you turn it around, disbelieving, you see that it’s expired by over a year. no wonder no one wanted it.

standing up, you nudge the metal box aside with your foot with resignation, and resume your walk through the narrow alleys. your neck is corded with tension, nails digging into your palm where you’re clenching the handle of your knife, skin sweaty despite the chill. 

you pass a cracked mirror still somehow hanging on the wall. you don’t pay it too much mind at first, intending to ignore it, but the glimpse you catch from the corner of your eye makes you do a double-take, steps faltering. 

you’re aware it’s been a while since you last had the chance or the desire to look at your own reflection, but you didn’t realize just how much you have changed since the last time you cared enough to pay attention. your eyes are sunken, dark shadows stretching underneath your lower eyelids, and you remember the colour of your irises to have been more vibrant than this. your skin is matte underneath all the dirt and grime and thinner; the shiny, oily parts of your face you used to be so insecure about now completely gone. the roundness of your cheeks have hollowed out, and your lips look so dry it’s almost more painful to look at them than to feel. it’s hard to believe it’s really you you’re watching.

your hand comes up to press against the sharp arch of your cheekbone, the scar above your eyebrow, then below your lower lip – touching and probing like you’re trying to relearn yourself all over again. the new you. the you who survived.

when you shift to lean closer to the mirror, the broken glass catches a reflection of light from something behind your back. you repeat the motion to see the flash once more – it’s something tucked behind one of the fallen cabinets, shiny in a metallic way. 

intrigued, you turn around to find the source. 

it’s a half-collapsed drawer, tucked awkwardly between two counters in a way that seems to precise to be accidental. that dimmed flicker warms up in your chest again. it’s well-hidden, maybe even covered up on purpose. this might be your chance.

you slide the knife behind your belt to free your hands before giving the drawer a light tug – nothing. it doesn’t budge with a bit of a stronger one, either. you try to move the counter, but it’s bolted to the wall.

“come on,” you mutter, voice low with single-minded focus, “don’t be shy.”

bracing on leg on the cabinet for leverage, you hoist once more, the sound of metal creaking high-pitched and loud in the quiet room, but you’re to stubbornly determined to stop now. after tugging again and again, the drawer finally starts to gradually slide out from its confines, the mysterious contents of it rattling with each sharp movement. 

a sheen layer of sweat covers your forehead, eyebrows furrowing and cheeks filling with air as you pull as hard as you can, muscles straining, until, at last, the drawer is free.

but you can’t stop the heavy piece of metal from flying further through the air, accelerated by the force with which you yanked it out, and the handle slips from your clammy fingers before you can scramble to get a better grip on it.

it crashes onto the tiles with a deafening sound that leaves your ears ringing as you stumble backwards and fall on your ass, your tailbone hitting the floor so hard it punches the air out of your lungs; you can already imagine the bruise it will leave.

a muttered curse escapes from between your lips as you push yourself up, the tiny bits of broken glass on the floor digging into your palm slightly, but not enough to cut skin yet. the ridiculousness of the whole situation hits you after a minute or so while you dust off your pants, the humiliation sinking in so deep you’re glad you decided to split up in the beginning–

a groan.

your eyes snap wide open.

another one. and another.

your head snaps back towards the entrance of the pharmacy, hand instinctively flying to your knife. then the colour drains out of your face.

one, two, three… four, five, six, seven–

eight biters.

“shit–!” you whisper-yell, head whipping around frantically to look for any possible escape routes while you step backwards slowly, but there’s none. the infected are blocking your only way out of here. 

the grip on your knife tightens, and so do the muscles in your jaw. your eyes narrow, hyper-focused in a way that looks almost like anger. you’re alive, they’re not. you’re smart, they’re not. 

what’s eight biters?

without anymore stalling, you leap forward. 

the first one goes down easily, with a single stab to the head, blood dripping onto the trashed tiles. another one tries to grab your arm, bony fingers tugging on the jacket of your sleeve, but you send a kick into its swollen stomach. it crashes into the wall behind it, and you take the moment of advantage to pierce your blade through its skull. another follows from behind, so you grab its head over your shoulder and send it to the ground, kneeling over its open chest as you stab, dark gore splashing across your hands and face. 

you stumble on your way back up, knees buckling and hands flying out to hold onto the shelf next to you, and the next three biters use that moment to surround you. a hand grabs your shoulder as you swing your knife into the first one’s forehead, the sound of fabric ripping loud in your ears while you’re yanked backwards, back hitting something hard behind you. with a startled yelp, you start wriggling and swinging the blade wildly to hit anything that will give you more time, but the throaty gurgle is right in your face now – you snatch the metal first-aid box you left here earlier and slam it into the biter’s head, the moaning ceasing at once as bits of brain matter land on your face. this time, you don’t even flinch. using the same new-found weapon, you take out the next two infected, blood splashing in intricate patterns across the walls. 

panting, you turn around on your heel towards the last one of the bunch, one hand already raised – but you halt mid-swing.

a sickening wave of cold washes over your body, frozen in place in a catatonic stupor.

you know those eyes. the same exact colour as yours, except now milky.

the same face lines, now even more accentuated.

you remember that shirt, too.

slowly, hesitantly – as if you already know, but you’re afraid to make sure it’s true – your wide eyes trail down.

your stomach shrivels, acid coming up to the hard knot in your throat. the bracelet, the same one as on your wrist.

the one you and your brother made for each other when you were little.

it all happens so fast. one moment you’re aiming for its head, his head, but your muscles pull taut, like something’s holding you back from dealing the blow. the next, a sharp wave of pain radiates up your arm when a pair of jaws sinks into your flesh.

the box clatters onto the floor.

#♡

“where the fuck is she?” keeho glances at his watch for the tenth time within a singular minute, arms crossed at his chest.

him and intak have been standing outside for almost a quarter of an hour past the thirty-minute mark, yet there’s no sight of you coming out.

“maybe she found something good and lost track of time?” intak muses, knees drawn up to his chest where he’s crouching, drawing absentminded doodles on the sand with a small branch. 

the older man lets out an annoyed huff, head tilting back to look at the midday sky like he’s praying for either strength or patience. “i knew she’d cause trouble sooner or later.”

a beat, then he continues.

“i’m giving her ten more minutes, then we’re going in. i swear to god, if she’s–”

a loud noise echoes from inside the building, cutting his sentence off. both of the men’s heads snap up, eyes darting towards the front entrance before finding each other’s.

“we’re going in–” before intak can make a move to straighten up, keeho’s already moving towards the door, “now.”

they walk through the halls in a fast pace, but staying vigilant, weapons raised and ready. the sound doesn’t come again – just eerie silence, which they know might not be a good sign after all.

nearing the pharmacy, the first thing they notice is a few dead walkers lying on the ground, blood still pooling on the tiles underneath like the wounds they sustained are fresh. concerned, they share a single look – a silent conversation – before entering the room, eyes scanning the surroundings to find you among the bodies.

and find you they do, but the sight makes them stop in their tracks. 

you’re kneeling on the floor, shoulders slumped forward. your eyes are wide and unblinking, staring holes into the corpse lying in front of you. there are tear streaks on your cheeks, lines of grime washed off where they fell, but you’re not sobbing or breathing heavily. in fact, the movements of your chest are so shallow they can’t really tell if you’re breathing at all. your jacket is off, and wrapped tightly around your forearm, smudges of blood staining the material and your arm above it all the way up to your shoulder.

and your hand… it’s holding the walker’s?

the men share another glance. neither of them is certain what’s going on, but they can tell it’s not anything good.

“hey…” intak is the first one to speak up, voice quieter and softer than ever, “are you okay..?”

the words don’t seem to register at first, your body staying worryingly still. but then it’s like you’ve broken out of a spell, your irises fluttering, a deeper breath – not deep, but noticeable this time – filling your lungs, as if your brain needed a longer moment to process someone talking to you.

“yes–” you clear your throat when your voice cracks, arm rising to wipe the tears you didn’t realise has fallen with the back of your hand. “yeah, i’m– i’m fine. is it past the meeting time?”

“it is. what were you–”

intak’s words trail off, just now realising the amount of blood spilled around. the leftover flesh still between the walker’s teeth. the jacket tied around your arm.

it’s dirty. bloody.

he takes a step back instinctively, his stomach dropping. the tan skin of his face turns ashen.

keeho furrows his eyebrows at his friend’s sudden change in behavior. confused, he follows the line of his gaze, and–

“you’re bitten.”

it’s not until you’ve finished wiping your face that you notice their pointed stares, expressions tinged with something you can’t quite decipher.

“no– no, i cut it off,” the words leave your mouth rushed and breathless, open palms coming up in a calming gesture as a reflex. “i cut the bite off right away, i’m not–”

the sound falters when you raise your gaze towards them again.

they’re both leaning back slightly, as if ready to bolt any second. their eyes bulged out of the sockets, lips parted as if there was a million questions on their tongue, but none of them wanted to come out. they’re looking at you with this mixture of vulnerability, pain, fear, and anger – a look you know all too well by now.

and the worst thing?

their weapons are raised. not to protect you – to protect themselves from you.

keeho’s gripping the handle of his axe so tightly his knuckles are chalk white, holding it at his waist level, as if he’s torn whether he should gear up or not for the first time in his life. intak’s hands are trembling violently around the pistol, rifle pointing straight at you. since when does he have one?

“you’re bitten,” the boy snarls, like the words hurt coming out of his throat. he shifts his weight from one leg to the other. “you’re infected.”

“no– no, i’m not– please, y-you have to believe me–” you plead, tears streaming down your face once again despite just having wiped the previous wave off, but it doesn’t sound too convincing even to yourself. 

because the truth is, you don’t know. you don’t know what will happen, if cutting off a chunk of your own muscle would do anything to save you. the whole period from when you entered the pharmacy is an incoherent blur in your head, images flashing before your eyes like scenes from a movie. 

intak’s grip on the gun falters as his own eyes brim with tears. he huffs, biting back a choked sob, and lowers the weapon in order to slam his fist into the metal shelf next to him.

“fucking hell–” he paces the room, restless, before turning towards keeho, hand fisting in his friends shirt. “she’s infected. we have to kill her before she turns.”

a weak whimper leaves your mouth, body curling inwards. 

keeho doesn’t tear his eyes away from you until intak grabs him, and even then his voice is unnervingly calm, completely out of place for the situation.

“she said she cut it off.”

one sentence. that’s it. he believes you. 

why does he believe you, when you can’t even believe yourself?

“keeho, for fuck’s sake–” intak bristles, waving the gun around as he gestures wildly while speaking. “okay, she cut her own skin off, so what? she’s magically healed? do you want to see her turn?”

he only leans closer at that, seething the words through his teeth – low, firm. “she said. she’s not. going to turn.”

his quiet conviction feels like salt on the wound. you can’t do anything but watch them argue about your life through hazy eyes.

the younger man groans out loud, wiping the tears off his cheeks with the collar of his shirt. “of course she says that, she’s scared!” a beat, then quieter, “so what do you want to do, huh?”

they keep staring each other down for what feels like an eternity, as if above the fight, they’re having another argument inside their heads so you can’t hear it. 

“we take her back home.”

intak throws his hands out in the air, disbelieving. “you can’t be serious,” he counters, but the older man doesn’t yield. “really? you want to bring her back so she can turn into a walker in peace and then infect the rest of us? are you fucking insane?”

keeho’s voice drops an octave, eyes narrowing, “we get her back and lock her up until we know for sure.” it’s not a question – it’s a command. “i’m not letting you put a bullet through her head just because you want to try your new toy out.”

“that’s not–” he tries to argue, but the harsh, unflinching look on keeho’s face makes him pause. his eyes dart between his friend and you, lower lip quivering at the sight of someone as infuriatingly strong and composed as you curled into a ball on the floor, crying helplessly.

his fingers twitch around the handle, diffident, but sighs eventually, holstering the weapon. “okay– fine,” he takes a small step closer. his voice lowers to a whisper, but it’s still not quiet enough to miss your ears. “but if she turns by the morning, you’re gonna be the one to kill her.”

somehow, the words don’t make you feel any better.

#♡

the trip back is gruelling.

you walk fast, fueled by fear from one side and fragile hope from the other, but even then it feels like it’s taking forever. no one speaks a single word the whole time, aware that another argument, and consequently your life, is hanging over you as if just waiting to drop. there’s a gauze wrapped tightly around your forearm – it’s old and pretty dirty, but you were bleeding hard, and intak insisted that they shouldn’t use up their resources if they have no way of knowing if you’ll survive. he said our resources, but the tone of his voice made it clear that he meant theirs, not yours. not anymore.

you don’t tell them about your brother. in the light of the circumstances, it doesn’t feel all that important anymore, even though it felt like your whole world collapsed on top of you back in the hospital. you spent all this time, all those years, wondering how your family is doing. how long was he dead for? did he come here to look for you? if you hadn’t met the group, would you have met him while he was still alive?

your eyes sting but no tears fall anymore. it feels like you’ve skipped through all stages of grief to something even past acceptance – just a quiet, overwhelming sense of hollowness. a catharsis, in a way. like you knew this would happen all along but kept trying to convince yourself otherwise just so you could live your life a little longer. was it worth it?

jiung is the first one to notice the three of you walking through the gate in the fence surrounding their hut, already seated on the porch step, waiting. he jumps up the moment he sees you, feet carrying him to your side immediately.

“you’re here,” he sounds relieved, a worried edge to the tone of his voice. his eyes flicker over you, as if counting the people in his head to check if everyone came back in one piece. “what took you so long? are you okay?”

no one dares to meet his gaze head on, which only adds to his concern. “guys?”

“she’s bitten.”

the words leave intak’s mouth so suddenly even you flinch at the sound of it. jiung’s jaw falls open as he stares at you in silence, like he’s waiting for a punchline that doesn’t come. 

“w-what?” he manages to whisper after a moment, choked up in his stupor. the sorrow in his voice breaks through the dissociated trance you’ve fallen into, making your eyes fill with tears all over again.

keeho steps forward, stretching one arm to the side as if to shield you – even though no one’s trying anything yet. “we don’t know if she’s going to turn.” he pays no mind to the way intak rolls his eyes at his retort. “she– she cut the bite off right after it happened. that’s why we brought her back here.”

jiung’s expression twists into pure mortification, then into something more reluctant, slightly skeptical even, struggling to believe this version of events even though it seems he really wants to. he looks back at you, watching the way you’re almost desperately gripping onto your bandaged arm.

“you cut it off? yourself?”

you lift your gaze to meet his, but you immediately wish you didn’t when the world starts to blur around you. “...yes.”

he gulps. “well– did you clean the wound? it’s gonna get infected if you leave it like this.”

“there’s no point using up what we just managed to find,” intak replies sternly. “if she is infected, we’ll be wasting our resources.”

“and if she dies from an infected wound instead?” the words send a shiver down your spine. you don’t like how they’re discussing your life like you’re not even here, as if it’s something they have deciding power over; though you know you won’t last on your own if you leave now, even if you don’t turn into a biter. so maybe they do, after all.

that makes him hesitate. the words she’s dead anyway bubble up in his throat, but he swallows them back down. everyone knows what he thinks, though.

“if she doesn’t turn, we take care of it in the morning. she won’t die from an infection overnight.”

a beat of silence falls between the four of you, heavy and unsettled.

“so what do we do?” jiung murmurs, arms wrapping around himself like he’s trying to hold himself together. 

keeho’s lips press into a thin line, lowering his hand and slipping it into his pocket. “we lock her in the shed until morning… again.” there’s a twinge of pained guilt in his voice as he says it. “tie her hands. just in case.”

you can feel your heart shattering into little pieces. just in case.

you want to scream, yell at them, to convince both them and yourself that this isn’t over yet. that you’re not over yet. but there’s no more fight left in you as they lead you towards the back of the house where the old toolshed is; a path you’ve taken once already, but it somehow feels longer this time. it’s like your own, twisted version of via crucis, with your wrists tied together with a rope that leaves burns on your skin with every movement, and all six of them gathered by both sides of the door to the place that might be the last one you’ll ever step into. 

the gate creaks when keeho pushes it open. everything just as it was two days ago: the smell of damp, decaying wood and moss, planks and boxes thrown around, a single, broken lightbulb near the ceiling – but now heavier with the implications.

jiung guides you inside, his touch still gentle despite everything – just a step past the threshold, then pauses, and lets go.

you look back over your shoulder; you don’t mean to, but your body does it on its own, without your input. intak is looking away stubbornly, arms crossed at his chest, but his hands are clenched into tight fists and his eyes are red-rimmed. jiung, shota, and taeyang are keeping their gazes on the ground, silent grief written all over their pale faces, while jongseob’s biting down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling as salty tears race down his cheeks. keeho is the only one who meets your gaze. his shoulders are tense, fingers of the hand that holds the door open gripping the wood so hard you’d be surprised if he ended up with no splinters in his skin, like he’s battling with his own conscience not to drag you out of there.

“...is this really necessary?” jongseob’s weak, shaky voice cuts through the thickness of the silence like a knife.

taeyang takes a deep breath through his nose, bracing himself. “it’s for the better. we’ll all be safer this way,” saliva goes down his throat harshly, jaw tense. “we will see each other in the morning.”

the way his voice wavers at the last word doesn’t convince anyone.

the youngest bites back a sob. “i mean– can’t she stay inside? we can watch out for the symptoms–”

“jongseob.”

he cuts off at the tone of keeho’s firm command, watching his friend with a pleading gaze, but he only shakes his head faintly – a silent order to drop it before he makes it worse. his eyes fall shut as he tries, and fails, to put himself together, hands shaking at his sides.

you open your mouth to say something, heart twisting with guilt at the sight of the boy you grew so fond of breaking down because of you, but all that manages to leave your mouth is a shaky whisper. “...it’s okay,” you try to smile, but the corners of your lips tremble, “thank you for letting me stay.”

that’s all it takes for jongseob to shatter. he lets out an ugly, wretched sob, face contorting in an agonised grimace before he’s rushing forward, arms wrapping around your shoulders in a crushing embrace.

“don’t–” he weeps against your shoulder, a salty waterfall dampening your shirt. “don’t say it like it’s goodbye. please.”

you can’t stop your own tears from falling now, arms aching to return the hug, but they’re still held tight by the rope around your wrists. all you can do is stand there, letting him cry into your neck with a heavy heart and lips bruised from biting down on them, until jiung pulls him back gently, forcing the younger to let go of you.

no one else steps closer. even keeho’s eyes have shifted watch the strands of grass moving in the wind. you’ve never felt so alone surrounded by people.

throwing the last glance towards the group, you move further inside the toolshed, your legs heavy as you close the last distance between you and your own demise. your heart is beating so hard you can feel it all the way in your back, head pulsing from the effort of not letting yourself crumble. 

you mouth an i’ll miss you, but the sound is drowned out by the sorrow as the door closes behind you, leaving you alone in near-darkness.

there’s no telling how fast, or how slow, the time is passing by after the sun goes down, the stray beams of light reflected by the moon the only thing keeping you company as you sit slouched against one of the walls, indents creasing the skin of your forehead where it’s pressed against the wood. it’s a special kind of hell, really, being left behind to wait for death that may or may not come. you try to occupy yourself with mundane tasks like counting the specks of dust and thrumming an idle beat on the rope with your fingers, but the paranoia keeps gnawing at the edges of your consciousness until it swallows you whole. you’re sure you can feel the temperature of your own body rising, your system uselessly trying to fight off the sickness. your hands are starting to feel numb – whether from the binds or something else, something worse. there’s a weight on your eyelids that makes it harder to keep your eyes open, like the death itself is trying to catalyse the process and ease you into it.

the sight of your brother is burned into your mind. his wide, hollow eyes, rotten teeth in the jaw hanging open, grey-ish skin and crooked limbs. he looked so different, gruesome, yet at the same time exactly how you remembered him. you wonder if he went out painlessly, or if he suffered. but somehow, looking back, you feel… calm. as if a few of the rocks always weighing on your stomach finally disintegrated. somehow the knowledge of the bad feels better than the uncertainty you’ve been carrying with you for years.

there’s so many things you wish you had a chance to do before all of this. you never learned about jongseob’s past, or how he found himself in the group. you never asked shota why he bet on you making it – a dry huff of air, an attempt at a laugh, leaves past your lips at the irony. you never thanked jiung for letting you keep the knife the last time you were locked in this shed.

a knock on the door startles you out of your contemplation.

for a moment, you wonder if you imagined it. maybe it was just a stray animal, or a gust of wind. but then a voice comes from the other side.

“...you still there?” 

it’s keeho.

it takes you a while to find your voice, your throat parched. “yeah.”

you can hear him exhale, followed by a quiet shuffling and the slight rattle of the gate, like he’s sliding his back down the wooden wall.

he doesn’t speak at first, just sits there with you, trying to take some of the heaviness onto his own shoulders. you stay quiet as well, despite the questions running through your head.

you can almost feel yourself drifting off again when his voice reaches your ears, soft and muffled by the barrier separating you.

“i was a music major.”

something cracks deep in your chest at his words.

“i majored in singing and minored in music composition,” he adds after a beat, tone distant as if all the plans and dreams from before the outbreak were long buried. “...you asked me about that yesterday.”

you thought you accepted it. you thought the quiet stillness inside you meant you were okay with whatever the universe had planned for you, but your eyes swell with tears yet another time tonight at his hushed admission. 

your reply is barely a whisper, so low you’re not sure if he can hear it at all. “...thanks.”

another beat of silence. he doesn’t ask how you’re feeling, if you can feel any of the symptoms yet. either for his peace of mind or yours.

“what happened in that apartment…” the words make your heart skip a beat, the first sign that you’re really alive since they closed that door. “i didn’t… plan for that.”

he seems to be struggling to get the other part of the sentence out, mouth closing and opening a few times before any sound manages to leave, “...but i don’t regret it.”

the back of his head thumps against the door as he leans back, as if the confession has been pressing down on him since the night before, and now the tension finally was loosened. 

but this time, there’s no response from your side. no sound of your voice, no sobbing or laughing or yelling. just silence, and the uncomfortable inference of it.

with the heaviness of a man who saw a spark of hope in the darkness of the world ending the for the first time in years just to watch it burn out before his eyes, he pushes himself up from the ground and walks away from the shed without looking back.

morning light filters through the cracks of the planks, casting thin golden lines across the mess inside. the air is crisp with dawn – silent except for distant bird calls and the shuffling of six pair of feet against grass.

for the first time since the group formed, no one stood watch over the night, because although each of them was in their own room, they knew sleep wouldn’t find any of them like an unspoken, grim agreement.

the rusted chains rattle quietly as shota gathers them in his hands to slip a key inside the padlock, letting it fall abandoned to the ground after it clicks open.

he steps back, but no one makes a move to open the door. no one is ready to face the truth, not after they spend hours convincing themselves of an outcome they knew wasn’t plausible.

keeho stands at the front of the group, the pistol intak found on the run gripped in both of his hands despite being small enough for just one. he doesn’t want the others to see how much they’re trembling.

“just do it,” the owner of the gun murmurs, the morning sun casting shadows over the tired lines around his eyes. “get this over with.”

the comment earns him a few disapproving glares, but nobody protests. 

keeho exhales sharply through his nose – then pushes the door open with his shoulder.

the shed is dark inside, sunlight not reaching much further than the doorway. he takes a step inside, then another, squinting in the shadows while pointing the the rifle straight at your head where you’re slumped against the faraway wall, thighs pressed to your chest and face resting over your knees, hair falling down like a curtain.

everyone outside the small building freezes, breaths held. jongseob’s whimper cuts through the eerie stillness as he moves behind taeyang to shield himself from what’s about to happen.

you don’t move. don’t stand up and smile and rub it in their faces that they were wrong. your body doesn’t sway with the rhythm of your pulse, and your back doesn’t rise with your breaths.

keeho’s finger feels clammy against the cold metal of the trigger.

then he pulls.

the loud bang rings out through the peaceful forest, birds flying off the branches of the trees, alarmed. the other five curl into themselves, looking away out of respect or guilt – or both. jongseob presses both hands against his mouth but it does little to muffle the startled cry he lets out. intak and jiung both press their lips together, blinking the wetness away. the silence is suffocating.

“...keeho?”

the sound is so small, so fragile, it almost feels like the ghost of their own conscience already on its way to haunt them. 

but then comes a gasp, barely there, followed by a sniffle.

the gun clatters to the ground.

slowly, you lift your head. your face is sunken, skin dull, and your eyes are swollen and red-rimmed. there’s a circular hole in the wall a metre or two to your side from the bullet, the gunshot ringing in your ears.

keeho stumbles when he’s yanked away by his shoulder as jongseob pushes through, knees buckling as he falls to the ground next to you, almost crushing you under his weight as he throws his arms around you.

“you’re alive–” the choked sobs in your ear worm their way into your head through the daze, “y-you’re– oh god–”

the force of jongseob’s embrace knocks the air out of your lungs, his shoulders shaking violently as he clings to you. his face is buried in the crook of your neck, tears soaking through your shirt – wetness spreading fast where it just dried after yesterday’s goodbye. your tongue peeks out to wet your cracked lips, finding saltiness you didn’t realise was there.

you’re… alive?

behind him, keeho hasn’t moved an inch since being shoved aside. he watches the two of you with wide eyes, unblinking, as if he’s scared it’s all a fever dream that will disappear the moment he lets you out of his sight.

jiung is the next one who finds himself on your side. he’s gentler than jongseob, one of his hands sneaking its way to you neck to press two fingers against your pulse point, needing the confirmation despite the proof of you blinking up at him tiredly.

you can feel your blood flowing under the pressure of his digits.

you’re alive.

“holy shit…” a strangled sound leaves intak’s mouth, feet frozen in place. one of his hands comes up to rub the water out of his eyes to see better and dragging down his face, while the other grips taeyang’s arm, who looks just as stunned.

shota falls to his knees quietly, fingers digging into the dirt as his body shakes with silent sobs of relief. he’s the only one smiling.

the next few moments are a blur in your mind, still clouded from exhaustion and denial. jiung pulls out his pocket knife to cut through the ropes binding your wrists, holding your shoulders to help them ease back into their natural position after so long before he’s pulling you into a tight hug, murmuring a mixture of teary apologies and reassurances into your hair. then jongseob clings to you once more, a little longer, a little closer. then it’s shota, whispering a hushed i told them you’d make it into the embrace, followed by taeyang, and intak at the end, who seems almost hesitant, unsure if he’s allowed to touch you after everything.

as they all step back to give you space, you tilt your chin up to catch keeho’s gaze – your breath stutters.

he’s crying.

not blinking back tears, not sniffling discreetly.

tears are running down his face one by one, the damp skin of his cheeks reflecting the golden streaks of sunlight coming in through the cracks. 

for some reason, the sight makes your chest swell, like what you’re witnessing is more important than the fact that you’re still breathing.

he gets down on one knee, then the other, a shaky hand coming up to brush a stray strand of matted hair out of your face before it presses against your jaw. warm. alive.

next thing you know, your pulled forward, your back peeling away from the wood as he crushes you against his chest, strong arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders. his breath is unsteady where it meets the skin over your collarbone, and breaks into a strained sob when your arms come to encircle his waist – weak and jerky, careful of your wound, but undeniably there.

and with jiung’s quiet “welcome to the family,” and keeho’s arms around you, you believe this more than ever.

your story is not over yet. 

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you were watching tv in your old apartment in seoul – one of those stupid reality shows about dating – splayed out on the couch, stuffing your mouth full of some kind of savoury snack you can’t even remember now. you had been let go from your job as a waitress earlier that week (something about inappropriate and rude behavior towards customers, as your ex-boss said), your family lived back in your hometown hours away by train, and you still hadn’t managed to find any friends in the big city, so you had nowhere to be until your classes started again on monday.

you were planning to fall asleep on that couch like you had been doing for the past few nights, but you were startled out of your half-awake state by a sudden shift in the tone coming from the tv. when you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the angry red text at the bottom of the screen, saying “EMERGENCY BROADCAST’’ in all caps.

confused, you reached for the remote to turn the volume up to be able to hear the news presenter better. the lady said something about a group of young people in hongdae exhibiting extreme levels of violence, and the video in the top right corner showed a livestream from the site - too blurry and chaotic to be comprehensible, but you could tell there was a lot of blood involved, and possibly a few bodies on the ground.

you were about to change the channel, murmuring something about the country going to the dogs, but your finger froze on the remote button when you heard her next words:

“witnesses also report cannibalistic behaviour among the culprits. victims who have sustained bite or puncture wounds start showing similar aggressive tendencies within hours, and are uncooperative towards authorities. there have been reports of similar cases in other big cities in korea and overseas. all residents of larger cities are advised to stay at home until-”

the presenter was cut off by a high-pitched beeping sound as the transmission ended abruptly.

you sat there, your snack and the show you were watching long forgotten, trying to make sense of what you’d just heard in your head.

you remember thinking that it couldn’t possibly be true. that it must have been some kind of exaggeration, or maybe a government scheme to spread panic and conceal something else going on.

but the tv didn’t turn back on for the rest of the day – so despite your scepticism, you stayed home.

on the first day, you tried to occupy yourself with something to kill boredom. you picked up old hobbies like knitting and puzzles, burned a few pots trying to invent new recipes with what you had in the fridge. you called your family to make sure they’re okay, and even went on a small walk around your apartment building - but the streets were eerily empty, and all shops had closed, so you went back quickly.

on the second day, you heard screams coming from further down your street. you peeked out of your balcony, but you saw nothing but a couple of people running, as if they were scared of something. you closed the blinds. you called your family again - they said your brother left to look for his girlfriend. they were worried.

on the third day, there were corpses littered on the street when you peered through the blinds. you didn’t look again. you finished all of your puzzles, and called your parents again. your mom was crying.

on the fourth day, you started rationing your food. you called your parents again, but they didn’t pick up. you ran out of wool to knit with, so you unpicked an old sweater. you never wore it these days anyway.

on the fifth day, they cut off the water. you reassembled all of your puzzles, and tried calling your parents again, but there was no signal.

on the sixth day, they cut off electricity. you ate the last of your food stores. you only had one bottle of water left, so you saved it for later. still no signal.

on the seventh day, you left your apartment.

#♡

you wrap your jacket tighter around yourself, tightening your grip on your kitchen knife. you have been walking through this forest for hours now, but it feels like you’ve been running in circles, passing by the same points over and over again with no sight of an exit.

you didn’t mean to stay here for long – you were only hoping to find a place clear of biters to rest for a while before moving on to find somewhere to spend the night, but now the sun has set and you have no idea where you’re going or how to get out. but it’s now past the third quarter of the year, so the nights are getting longer and too cold to wait them out outside, and the forest is the last place you want to be after dark, so you keep walking, clenching your teeth when they start to chatter.

a hushed curse leaves your shaking lips when you almost trip over after stepping on a branch you failed to notice, the noise of dry wood snapping and the clank of your belongings turning over inside your backpack echoing through the quiet forest.

you freeze, not daring to do as much as breathe while you listen for any signs of danger. but there’s nothing – a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you straighten up, adjusting the strap of your backpack that fell down your shoulder.

then you hear it.

it’s quiet, probably far away, but unmistakable. it’s the sound that has been fueling your nightmares every night for the past two and a half years, that makes the blood in your veins curdle and all hairs on your body bristle.

a biter’s groaning.

“shit–” you take off again right away, now even more desperate to find some kind of shelter. biters rarely stray away from groups – something you’ve learned from the countless unfortunate encounters in the past – so if there’s one, there’s probably more where it came from. and one thing those things can do is hear very well.

the quickened pace causes more shuffling and cracking sounds to come from under your feet despite your best efforts to stay quiet. you keep walking faster as the gruelling sounds get louder, eyes frantically scanning your surroundings in the dark. come on, come on…

there’s a darker shape that reveals itself from a thinning of trees, not too far away from where you are now. it could be a bunker or an old house someone left behind when shit went down.

“fuck it,” you think, before breaking into a run. the amount noise you’re making is definitely loud enough to attract the attention of biters now, but you don’t care. you’re going to be dead anyway if you don’t get there soon.

your lungs burn, the cool autumn air prickling your skin where it’s not covered up. the shape gets clearer the closer you get – it seems to be a small forest hut, surrounded by a chain-link fence. if you weren’t running for your life, you’d probably fall to your knees to thank the universe right now.

your backpack slides off your shoulders easily when you finally reach the fence, and you throw it over to the other side and pocket your knife before climbing over yourself. the landing is almost noiseless – graceful and practised, the only sounds now being your ragged pants as you catch your breath and the distant moans of the undead.

you bend down to grab your discarded backpack, but your movement is halted when something yanks on your hair harshly, making you stumble backwards with a surprised gasp.

the next few seconds are a blur – a few more silhouettes flashing before your eyes, your hands flying towards where you’ve hidden your weapon as your fight or flight kicks in full force. you try to wriggle free and blindly swing your knife into whatever is holding you from behind, but then your hair is gripped even tighter and something cold and sharp presses against your throat. your whole body tenses.

“drop the knife,” a voice growls into your ear, “or i’ll slice through that pretty throat of yours.”

another person takes a step closer, shining their flashlight right into your face and blinding you for a short moment. at first, you hesitate, weighing your odds against a group of six men in the middle or nowhere – at least that’s how many of them you can see right now – but the blade presses harder against your skin as the one behind you starts to get impatient.

you swallow heavily and raise your hands in a gesture of defeat, the knife falling to the ground with a soft thud.

“smart choice,” the man at your rear snickers. he lets go of his grip on your hair, but his other hand keeps the blade in the near vicinity of your neck, “how did you find this place?”

you swallow heavily to soothe your dry throat, your words slow and careful. you don’t dare to lower your hands yet, “i was just walking through the forest. i was trying to find a place to spend the night, and then i saw a house so i–”

“you were walking through the forest at sundown?” someone cuts you off – a different voice this time. it seems like that person is standing somewhere off to the back, but you can’t see any details with the flashlight aimed right at your face, “do you have a death wish?”

“that’s why i was looking for shelter,” the words come out almost as a snarl, annoyance bubbling up inside you despite your best efforts to not get killed tonight. damn it.

there’s a moment of tense silence. the six pairs of eyes fixated on you make shivers go down your spine, and your neck aches from having your head tilted back this whole time. then the warmth against your back disappears as the man steps back, pulling the knife away from you but keeping it ready just in case.

“well, you’re not gonna find one here,” he says, walking around you to stand next to the rest of the group and nodding towards someone on the opposite side, “intak, give her back her things. she’s leaving.”

the finality in his voice makes your stomach drop, your hand freezing mid-motion of reaching down for your discarded weapon. there’s no way you’re going to survive the night alone in the woods with biters lurking behind every bush and nothing but a knife to protect yourself.

you’re about to protest, fully prepared to start begging if needed, but another voice beats you to it.

“holy shit, she’s got a lot of food in here!” you’re guessing it’s the intak the other one mentioned that’s holding your backpack open, his dirty, nosy hand diving between cans and jars of non-perishables you’ve risked your life to find, “it’s like a damn piggy bank!”

your head snaps up at that. without thinking, you lurch forward towards him, amrs reaching out in an almost primal instinct to get back what’s yours – but you’re forced to step back when they all raise their weapons again in response to your sudden movement. you’re outnumbered.

it’s time to change the strategy.

“listen,” you keep your voice steady and your palms open, “i won’t survive the night if you kick me out now. i can share my food, and i can take care of myself. just let me stay here for a while, please.”

the men share a few glances and hushed whispers with each other. now that you don’t have a stream of light blinding you and your eyes are slowly getting used to the darkness, you can make out a little of what they look like; they all seem somewhere in their twenties, their clothes mismatched and well-worn, just like yours. they’re not exactly clean, but they certainly look cleaner than you feel right now.

“no. absolutely not,” the one who held a knife to your neck speaks up, his words directed towards someone else in the group rather than to you. he emanates the kind of authority that makes you think they all trust his judgement endlessly, “we don’t need another mouth to feed.”

“please,” the tone of your voice becomes more disturbed with each firm shake of the head when one of them agrees with him, “i heard biters on my way here, there’s no way–”

“biters?” another guy snickers as he speaks up for the first time. his hair is a bit longer and a lighter shade of blonde, dark roots reaching down almost to his ears, "that’s what you call those things?”

intak next to him chuckles, slapping the other one’s shoulder, “what, because they bite?”

you blink once, then twice, confused by the sudden change of topic. it never really occurred to you before that there could be different names for the undead, and maybe you’d even find it a bit funny if you weren’t busy desperately trying to save your life.

“what do you call them, then?”

they both answer simultaneously,

“walkers.”

there’s a beat of silence. their confident facades drop gradually under your judgemental glare, but before they can try to recover, the leader (as you named him in your head) sighs loudly as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“intak, taeyang, for fuck’s sake–” he growls, and the two falter immediately, “it doesn’t matter right now. she’s leaving–”

“wait, keeho,”

a quieter, gentler voice speaks from the back of the group. the guy seems younger than the rest, his delicate features evident even through signs of exhaustion and malnourishment.

“she’s all alone. we can’t just leave her to die.”

something about that one speaking up makes keeho hesitate. his lips press into a thin line as he glances between you and the kid, “jongseob, it’s not our problem–”

“she has food, and she doesn’t seem sick or injured. she can sleep in the shed tonight to make sure she’s not infected,” he insists. you don’t know why he’s on your side in all of this, but you’re sure as hell not going to intervene.

when met with another uncertain murmur, he opens his mouth to say something else, but he swallows it back down when a faraway, gruelling noise reaches everyone’s ears.

“walkers!” keeho whisper-yells. all of you follow his lead as you gear up, eyes darting around to look for any signs of immediate danger.

his eyebrows crease as he vacillates, but he seems to realise there’s not much choice left here as they have to act quickly.

finally, he nods, relenting, although it’s clear he’s not thrilled about the outcome, “fine! jiung, take her to the shed behind the house, make sure to strip her of all weapons. shota and intak, check the gates first. everyone else back to the house, now.”

the way he orders them around seems to come to him naturally, and everyone obeys with no resistance. the sound of boots shuffling against the ground echoes as they all dissipate – the one with shorter black hair grabbing your arm and dragging you towards the back of the premises, not giving you a second to even try to negotiate.

he leads you to a small toolshed behind the cabin. the chains rattle as he fumbles to open the rusted padlock, before yanking the door open and pushing you inside after it finally gives.

“listen– i know it’s not a hotel, but it’s gonna keep you safe for now,” jiung’s words come out rushed, aware of how little time you might have until the first biters show up. he glances back over his shoulder quickly, “keep that knife. just in case.”

you’re stunned by the unexpected act of kindness and the way he opposed the leader by deciding against confiscating your weapons, but before you can mutter out a response or express your gratitude, he’s already shutting the door in your face.

“i’m sorry,” his muffled voice reaches you through the door along with the clinking of metal, “i’m gonna come get you in the morning.”

after that, he’s gone.

you turn around with a deep sigh, taking a look around the place you’re going to spend the next few hours in. it’s almost pitch dark, but with the few last rays of sunlight seeping in through the slits and holes in the walls you can see a bunch of wooden pallets and planks laying around, a few boxes that you’d rather not open, and no sight of anything even remotely resembling a bed or at least a blanket. the stench of decaying matter is dizzying, and the floor is covered in so much dirt it might as well just start growing grass.

but between getting killed on the spot, or worse, by a bunch of men and the nearing moans of the undead, you know that this is still probably the best thing that could’ve happened to you tonight.

with that thought, you slump against the wall, hugging your knees to your chest tightly to stop your body from shivering.

you don’t know what fate awaits you tomorrow, but after two and a half years of fighting to survive every single day in a world where death isn’t the worst sentence anymore, you’re not sure if you’re even scared anymore.

when your eyes flutter shut, you see the faces of your family members again. there’s no way of knowing how they’re doing or if they’re even still alive after all this time, but it’s good to see them again.

even if their features are starting to blur.

#♡

the night passes fairly quickly, given how little sleep you managed to get. the thin walls did nothing to shield you from the cool night air, the dampness of the wood sinking deep into your bones and making your teeth chatter. and yet, you welcomed the feeling, almost comfortable with how familiar it is by now, floating through the night more zoned out than actually asleep.

a gentle knock on the door finally brings you out of the doze, the chains rattling before it opens, letting in the first rays of light you’ve seen since yesterday.

“see? told you she’d be alive,” a voice you recognise to be jiung says. he’s grinning down at you, his gaze flickering between you and someone else standing next to him. it takes a couple of blinks to get used to the brightness before you see the other person clearly.

“yeah, yeah, whatever,” intak grumbles in response, seemingly not too thrilled to see that your skin hasn’t turned green over the night. he crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the doorframe that lets out a weak squeak under his weight, “you can choke on that fucking candy bar for all i care.”

jiung only laughs at that, unbothered.

he must have noticed your confused expression, because he finally turns his attention to you, “slept well?” he asks, tone seemingly lighter than yesterday night.

“yeah,” you hum as you rub your hands over your face, as if trying to erase the traces of fatigue. it’s an obvious lie – you don’t even try to pretend it’s not – but no one cares enough to call you out on it.

“come on, get up,” this time it’s intak who speaks, stretching his arm out as he offers a helping hand, “you gotta eat something. you look like hell.”

there’s a moment of silence while you glance at his palm, before you send him an unamused glare and push yourself up to your feet on your own. the man only shrugs and slides his hand into his pockets.

your body aches all over from being in the same position for hours, but you follow their lead towards the front of the house without argument. the forest seems peacefully quiet in the morning hours, the sound of birdsong making it feel almost normal - if it weren’t for the barricaded windows and a few rotten bodies hanging on the fence, but you’ve learned to ignore that.

“so, am i allowed to enter the house now?” the sarcastic edge in your voice is not lost on the two when you speak up from where you’re walking behind them. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, trying to warm yourself up now that you’re out of that shed.

“uh-huh. keeho said you can come in and eat with us,” jiung grins, “he and shota went out on a run a few hours ago, they should be back pretty soon.”

you hum in response; the thought of eating something is appealing enough that you don’t even want to try your luck by barking back.

“keeho’s the one who grabbed me, no? is he your leader or something?”

they both seem a little sheepish when you mention what happened yesterday, lips twisting in grimaces that seem almost apologetic.

“yeah, that’s him. and no, he’s not our leader,” he grumbles the last word out as if it offended him that you’d even think that, “he just… naturally takes charge. and he’s good at it. we trust him.”

all of you stop when you reach the front door. jiung’s the one to grab the handle and open it - stepping to the side to let you walk past, “ladies first.”

you roll your eyes at that, but the corners of your lips involuntarily curl up into a barely-there smile as you pass the threshold of the house.

the interior is surprisingly… okay. it’s rather dark from the planks screwed over the windows blocking the sunlight, but there is a fireplace in the corner and a few candles lying around that you suppose are used during the evenings. there’s an open living room to your left with a coffee table, a couch, and two armchairs – all of the furniture looking worn but still quite decent. a tourist map of the city is spread over the table, certain spots marked or circled with a sharpie. to your right is a kitchen; you don’t go inside yet, but you can tell it’s rather small even from outside. the smell of food fills your nose, making your stomach rumble.

“oh, you’re here,” the man with longer hair emerges from down the corridor in front if you soon after the front door clicks shut – jongseob, if you recall from yesterday correctly. it seems like he woke up not too long ago, his face slightly puffy and hair sticking out in all directions. he points his finger towards you, then towards the man behind your right shoulder, “so jiung was right.”

intak grumbles something under his breath.

“you made a bet on whether or not i’d survive until morning?” the question comes out of your mouth as curiosity gets the better of you, your gaze still taking in the new space. this is the second time someone has mentioned it today, and you’re not sure if you should be worried or glad you’re still alive.

“yup,” there’s no shame or guilt in jongseob’s voice when he answers. he stretches his arms over his head and yawns loudly, “we thought you’d either flee or turn into a walker before dawn. jiung and shota were the only ones who bid on you making it. but, hey, look at you now.”

you don’t know how to react to that, so you settle on shooting a glare over your shoulder towards intak, who at least has the decency to look a little sheepish and sends you an awkward grin. it looks like he’s about to say something else to justify himself, but he’s cut off by a voice yelling from the kitchen.

“food’s ready! sit your asses down!”

all of the boys perk up at that, the conversation completely forgotten as they mutter something about starving and having waited the whole night to eat again. they make their way towards the couch, pushing away the map and whatever else is on the table to make space for the food.

but your feet stay planted on the floor.

you basically broke onto their property just yesterday, and they not only let you sleep here, but now they’re also feeding you? just like that, no questions asked? you haven’t met that many people since the world went to shit, but you wouldn’t exactly call any of them generous. something about this feels very wrong.

it’s only when taeyang emerges from the kitchen holding a rusty, steaming pot through an old cloth that someone notices you lagging.

“you’re not eating?” he asks, barely sparing you a glance as he walks towards the others and sets the pot on the table. there are five bowls on the table now as well, each of them in a different size and colour – someone must have placed them there while you were busy thinking.

you watch from the same spot as he begins to ladle the food into the dishes, torn between giving into your famishment and staying cautious.

he seems to realise your hesitation, because he adds with a slight mocking edge, “don’t feel bad. i used a bit of what you had in that backpack of yours.”

that makes your eyebrows crease. you finally move from your spot in the corridor, standing to the side of the couch, “you took my supplies?”

your indignation only earns a mildly amused hum from him as he places the last bowl next to the last unoccupied seat, “you didn’t think we’d let you stay for free, did you?”

well, at least that part is clear now.

you let out a long exhale before lowering yourself onto the couch at last. everyone is already shovelling food into their mouths by the time you take the bowl into your hands, the warmth of it feeling heavenly against your skin after freezing outside for the whole night. the ingredients of the mysterious food remain unknown – you can vaguely make out some kind of beans and crushed ramen noodles (which is what he took from your stash, you figure), but it’s hot and still looks much more appetising than anything you’ve had for the past god knows how long, so you don’t even bother questioning it before taking the spoon in your hand and following in their steps.

“so,” intak is the one to break the silence after a while, spread out on one of the armchairs on the other side of the table as he speaks with his mouth stuffed full, “what’s your deal? you’ve been running around on your own this whole time?”

four pairs of eyes turn to you at once. your hand halts in the air, sauce dripping from the spoon and back into the bowl as you stare back, before swallowing what’s left in your mouth and clearing your throat, “uh… yeah, basically,”

all of them share glances with each other, some surprised and some more disbelieving.

“like, completely on your own?” jongseob chimes in from the seat next to intak, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “you’ve never had a group?”

your gaze falls to your food as you stir it idly, shoulders rising in a non-committal shrug, “not one that lasted, anyways.”

taeyang lets out a whistle, “damn,” you glance to your right when he mumbles around the noodles in his mouth, joining the conversation, “you must be tough to have lasted that long.”

“i guess so…” the sudden attention on you sends an uncomfortable shiver down your spine. you’ve gone so long without talking to anyone but yourself, except a couple of less-than-pleasant encounters here and there, that it feels almost as if you forgot how to act around other people, “...what’s your story, then? you’ve all known each other before?”

intak shakes his head.

“nah,” he mumbles between spoonfuls. there’s little emotion on his face as he recalls the story, as if he has told it multiple times before – to who, you don’t know, “only me, keeho, and shota vaguely knew each other. we went to the same uni, and we were all on campus when the lockdown happened. the rest came along the way.”

“i met them like a week or two after the outbreak,” jiung chimes in from his spot on the couch, and you have to lean forward to be able to see him past theo in between you, “we stuck together ever since. then we ran into taeyang– what, two, three months later?”

he looks at the blonde man for confirmation, to which he nods shortly.

“yeah. i was looking for food at some gas station when they came in and threatened to blow my head off,” a low snicker leaves his lips, “that’s how all the strongest friendships start these days.”

you let out a hum, taking in the four men eating together as if you weren’t in the middle of the world ending at all. they do seem to be working quite well together from what you’ve seen so far.

“what about you?” your gaze falls on jongseob at last, who has been quiet throughout since the topic shifted into their group.

he stirs in his seat, more interested in watching the red slop in his bowl now than anything else. the atmosphere suddenly shifts to something heavier, tense with unspoken grief from a memory they all share.

it’s jiung who speaks up instead of him, the tone of his voice softening just a fraction, “jongseob came along this spring. he was…” he trails off, glancing at the seemingly younger man from the corner of his eye, “in a rough shape when we found him.”

it all makes sense now why he was the one who insisted on letting you stay. they don’t need to say it out loud for you to understand that you shouldn’t push the topic, but your gaze trails over to jongseob involuntarily; he appears daintier than the others, his cheeks are slightly hollow, and there’s the kind of look in his eyes that shows just how much he’s been through. he sends you a tight, but genuine smile when he lifts his eyes to meet yours, as if silently telling you that he’s okay now.

soon enough everyone reaches the bottom of their bowls, the conversation quieting into a slightly tense but otherwise comfortable silence. it’s not enough to get you full by any means, you’re pretty sure you’ve forgotten what that feels like, but it was warm and you’re not starving anymore, and that’s plenty enough for you.

“alright, i’m gonna go clean up,” taeyang grunts as he pushes himself up, taking each dish and stacking them on top of each other before turning on his heel and making his way back towards the kitchen, “at least there are two bowls less to wash today.”

that catches your attention – your eyebrows shooting up as you turn to follow him with your gaze, “you guys have water here?”

the man disappears behind the doorframe before you can finish, either too far away to hear you or ignoring you on purpose, so it’s intak who answers you instead.

“we use rainwater for the dishes,” he explains, standing up from the armchair and stretching his arms over his head. the other two follow in his steps as well, “we have a small filtration system for drinking water too, but we try to use it scarcely since it needs a change of parts every now and then.”

noticing your almost glimmering eyes and parted lips, he adds, “no, we don’t use it for showering. if you want to wash up you need to wait until it starts raining.”

you deflate at that, shoulders slumping in resignation after getting your hopes crushed. it was worth a try.

you’re left in your seat as they all scatter around the house, wordlessly moving on to their respective tasks like one big, oiled machine. it’s quite an odd sight – from one side it’s clear that everyone here is struggling, half-starved, and exhausted, each of them carrying the weight of their own stories and survivor’s guilt after probably losing more than just their own lives; but from the other side, the mood in this house is anything but that. they walk around like they know the place like the backs of their own hands, their postures relaxed and the conversation flowing easily, without a trace of awkwardness.

jongseob’s voice brings you out of your thoughts.

“wanna go check the perimeter with me?” he’s standing by the front door, slinging a jacket that looks a few sizes too big over his shoulders as he speaks.

your first reaction is to look around, expecting him to be talking to someone else behind you – but to your surprise, there’s no one there.

“wanna do what?” the incredulous look on your face makes him chuckle when you turn to face him again.

“check the perimeter. you know– the fence,” it’s almost as if the previous conversation never happened with the way his lips are curled into an amused smile. he picks up something that looks like a baseball bat with nails in it from the dresser next to the exit, and flips it around in his hand effortlessly, “walkers get stuck in it sometimes, we need to take them off once in a while so they don’t topple it over.”

that’s when it clicks – you remember seeing a few of them tangled in the wire while jiung and intak were walking you to the house in the morning, but you were too shaken to even think about what’s going to happen to them.

“okay,” you give him a curt nod in response as you push yourself up to your feet, hand sliding into your back pocket to find your knife. there’s not much else for you to do here for the time being anyway, and there is a part of you that feels some sort of an obligation towards them for letting you be here at all–

“jiung gave it back to you already?” jongseob suddenly halts right in the doorway, his eyebrows creasing as he glances down at the weapon in your hand.

shit.

“i– yeah,” the lie slips off your tongue with little hesitation, though you do hope he didn’t hear the waver in your voice, “when he came to get me out of the shed.”

there’s a beat of silence as his gaze flickers between you and your hand suspiciously, but he doesn’t seem to deem it worthy of dwelling on – you let out a quiet relieved exhale when he shrugs and steps out of the door, before trailing after him.

the sun is high up in the sky as the two of you walk towards one corner of the chain-link fence, making the weather feel slightly warmer than a few hours ago; it must be somewhere past noon, you think. there are a few corpses caught on the fence you can already spot from here.

“so, where did you stay at before?” jongseob asks as you start making your way down along the fence, his voice quieter than before in order not to draw too much attention. one of his hands is hidden in his pocket while the other one is holding the bat and resting it on shoulder, his posture at ease as if he’s done this countless times already.

you take a moment to answer, gaze drifting somewhere far beyond the trees, “just… wherever was available,” you reply vaguely, but truthfully, “some old apartments, stores, cars… it’s safer to stay on the move, so i never really lingered in one place for too long.”

he lets out a thoughtful hum at your words, “and you’re from..?” the questions trails off as you approach the first biter. the sight is not pretty – its head hangs half-ripped off over the fence, the metal wire sunken into its neck. its hands are squeezed through the holes as if it was trying to force its way through, and its jaw is almost completely decayed.

“...yikes,” jongseob winces. the smell of a rotting corpse is something you’ve never managed to get used to, and you don’t think you ever will.

the chains rattle quietly as he braces his boot on the fence and uses the wooden bat to push on the biter’s body. the sound of once-human flesh being torn apart is sickening, making both of you grit your teeth as he keeps pressing harder and harder.

he stumbles when the pressure finally gives at once, the dead body dropping onto the grass behind the fence – but the head catches onto the wires and lands right under your feet.

there’s a moment where both of you stare at it, unsure how to proceed. the silence feels like a whole conversation – there’s no way either of you is gonna touch is unless it’s necessary.

but it doesn’t bother anyone by just lying here, does it?

“so,” jongseob wipes the imaginary dust off his hands on his pants, and turns around on his heel as if nothing happened, “where are you from?”

you take a big step over the discarded head, catching up to him quickly. you’ve seen countless beheaded biters before, but something about this whole thing makes you tighten the grip on your knife, “i, uh… lived in seoul,”

“me too,” he smiles faintly at the mention of his hometown, resuming the unhurried march, “shit got bad pretty fast in there, huh?”

“yeah…” the sigh that leaves your lips is almost nostalgic, in a way. you remember just how little time it took before the city went to ruins, and how quickly you had to make the decision to leave everything behind after realising that no help was coming for you, “and the cabin? you all seem pretty settled in here.”

“they’ve been here for a while before i even joined,” there’s a flicker of sadness in his expression when he mentions the time the group found him once more, before he pushes it back down. whatever happened to him, aside from what jiung told you earlier, must still haunt him to this day, “i think it used to belong to keeho’s uncle or something.”

you glance back over your shoulder, taking in the house and the surrounding area once more now that it’s bright enough to see, “it’s… nice. seems pretty safe.”

“it is,” it’s all he says before he stops again, his head tilting down to leer at another biter.

this one is a little easier to look at, though still terrifying – most of its body is still intact, his whole weight leaning on the fence and slanting it forward almost halfway to the ground. there’s almost no injuries on it besides the red patch on the shoulder where you assume the person was bitten, and no visible signs of decay yet. it couldn’t have been more than a day or two since they died.

“well, that one shouldn’t be too hard,” jongseob murmurs under his breath. he drops his weapon to the ground to be able to grab the fence with both hands and pushes on it with a quiet, strained grunt.

and the biter grunts back.

all of a sudden, it lurches towards the man, stretching its crooked arms towards him. a strangled gasp leaves jongseob’s mouth as he flinches back, but the corpse is fast enough to grab onto his jacket, gnawing its teeth right in his face.

you move on instinct. one of your hands yanks him back and away from the danger while the other swings, the blade of your knife sinking deep into the back of the biter’s skull with a gruelling crack.

you stay still for a long moment, breathing heavily as the adrenaline spike wears off while you watch dark crimson blood trickle out of the wound to make sure that it’s dead dead this time.

“fucking hell–” jongseob looks as flabbergasted as you, if not more, his face pale and lips still parted in shock. he doesn’t dare to let the biter out of his sight as he bends over to pick his weapon back up, “...thanks.”

the corpse falls limp to the ground when you yank the knife out of its head and wipe the gore off of the blade on your pants – there’s enough dirt and grime on them that you can’t bring yourself to give a single fuck anymore, “don’t mention it.”

the man takes a few more seconds to pull himself together before you two resume your walk. you can’t see any more biters from where you are right now, but you suppose it’s probably a routine thing for them to make a round along the whole fence, so you don’t argue. it’s quite unexpected how easily you two connect – the small talk is comfortable as if you haven’t just met yesterday, and he even pays you a compliment on your fast reflexes.

by the time you reach the part of the possession behind the house, the sun descends enough to let you feel the chill breeze through your jacket, the trees rustling slightly under the force of the wind and drowning out any far-away growls of the undead. you don’t ask about jongseob’s past anymore – you can tell it’s not something he talks about with ease, so you stay on more surface-level topics to take your minds off of everything else.

you’re about to reach your starting point again, leaves crunching underneath your boots as you plant one foot after another with no rush to finish the task, when the back door of the cabin swings open. both of you spin around at the suddenness of the noise, arms rising in a battle-ready stance out of reflex – and falling back down to your sides when you notice jiung’s disturbed expression.

“soul and keeho are back–” he spits out in a rush, as if he just learned about it himself and ran to you first thing, “they’re hurt.”

he wastes no time before hurrying back inside. jongseob breaks into a run after him immediately, stumbling through the open door with a muttered string of curses, and you follow right behind.

you find everyone gathered in the living room. intak and theo are running around, gathering things in their arms and spreading them out on the same table you ate on earlier, while jongseob and jiung are talking to the injured members sitting on the couch. you can’t see too much from where you’re standing, but you can tell they’re both beaten up and distressed.

“i told you, they just bruised me up,” soul’s voice is raised as he pushes jiung’s hand off his shoulder and stands to his feet. he gestures towards keeho who’s gripping onto his shoulder, his face twisted in a pained grimace that looks like he's trying to force it back to neutral, “you need to take care of him first, he’s bleeding!”

“i’m fine–” the said man tries to argue, but his words are cut off by a sharp hiss when theo forces his hand away and yanks the sleeve of his sweater up to take a look at his injury, his lips curling into a scowl at the sight.

“it looks bad… and it’s dirty as hell. it’s definitely gonna need stitches,” theo grumbles, letting the material fall back in its place, “does anyone even know how to sew a wound?”

the rooms falls silent, everyone sharing uncertain glances.

jiung speaks up at last, voice quieter than usual and full of hesitation, “i could try but–”

“i can do it.”

six pairs of eyes turn to you at once as if only now noticing your presence. it makes you waver a little, but square your shoulders, confident in your skills, “my brother was a med student. he taught me some things just in case.”

no one seems convinced to let a stranger do something this important, a silent conversation passing between some of them – but then keeho sways on the couch with a quiet grunt, his skin paler than just a couple of minutes ago.

“okay, okay–” taeyang braces one knee on the couch to hold keeho from falling over despite his weak protests, and nods towards the supplies on the coffee table, “there should be a needle and some thread in here. i think we still have some clean gauze left too.”

you don’t need to be told twice. your mind instantly slips into focused mode as you shrug your jacket off your shoulders and throw it onto one of the armchairs, before crouching in front of the containers on the table, “take his sweater off.”

they still in hesitation once again, none of them making a move to follow your command as you open containers and line up everything you might need. you slam one of them closed, eyebrows furrowing in indignation at how slow they are to help their own friend as you whip around, “did you hear me fucking stutter? take it off.”

that seems to pull them out of the frozen state, taeyang and joung scrambling to help keeho out of his clothes as gently as they can to not jostle his injured arm, but his face scrunches up in agony despite their best efforts. you can tell he’s trying to keep a strong facade through all of this, even if the pain is starting to really get to him.

you turn back towards him when his garments are off, and there’s a split second when your gaze locks onto his bare upper body – his tan skin glistening with sweat, the defined lines of the muscles of his chest that rise with every shallow breath, the faint trail of hair that disappears underneath the waistband of his jeans…

for fuck’s sake.

you clear your throat and plop down on the couch next to keeho to have better access to his arm. he turns his head to face the opposite direction, clenching his jaw tightly as you probe around the cut, blood staining your fingers quickly and dripping down onto the couch.

“it’s pretty deep, but the edges look smooth. it should be fine if we can stop the bleeding,” your tone is firm, almost mechanical, “do you have anything to disinfect it?”

as soon as the words leave your mouth, intak rushes into the living room from the kitchen. he’s out of breath when he holds up a bottle with no etiquette, half-full of clear liquid, “vodka. that’s all we have.”

everyone in the room winces sympathetically at that, and keeho’s face goes even paler, the crease between his eyebrows deepening.

taking the bottle from intak, you unscrew it with ease, hesitating for a moment as your gaze locks onto keeho’s perturbed expression, “this is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

“just do it–” he grunts out, snarling from between clenched teeth.

there’s barely any more time for him to prepare before you’re pouring a generous amount over the cut – his words cutting off as his whole body tenses, his eyes squeezing shut and back arching off the backrest of the couch with a loud groan as the liquid turns red and pools on the pillows.

it isn’t comfortable for you to see someone in that much pain, even if they’re a stranger that was holding a knife to your throat less than twenty-four hours ago. but you steel yourself as you hurriedly sanitise your hands as well with a smaller amount of alcohol, before placing the bottle to the side and reaching for the thread and needle.

it takes you a couple of tries to thread the needle with how much your hands are trembling from adrenaline, but you finally manage, leaning closer as you shift into a more comfortable position, “this is probably gonna hurt even more.”

that’s all you say before pinching the torn skin together and pushing the needle through in one smooth movement, stitching together the middle of the wound. keeho’s hissed curse echoes in the room, his arm jerking instinctively under your hands before he forces it still; he looks like he’s seconds away from fainting, his face paper-white and covered in a sheen layer of sweat.

“don’t let him pass out,” you throw the words over your shoulder without tearing your gaze away from the cut, your hands working steadily with the kind of confidence only someone who has lived through hell could have in a situation like this.

the others get to it right away – everyone gathering close to engage him in a conversation about something stupid just to keep him conscious, patting his cheek and dampening his face with water when his eyelids start to flutter. he lets out short, grumbled out respones, his head swaying slightly to the sides every few painfull stabs of the needle.

it’s chaotic but it helps, taking his mind off of the pain at least a little bit until you pull the last stitch through the skin and tie the thread off. you wrap the gauze around his arm tightly and make sure it’s secure before leaning back with a deep, relieved exhale, just now realising that you’ve been holding your breath the entire time.

keeho lets his eyes fall closed, covering them with the crook of his arm while taking deep breaths to ground himself after what could have possibly been the worst pain he has felt in his life.

“thanks for the help,” you feel a pat on your shoulder as taeyang passes behind you, handing you an old, but fairly clean-looking rag to wipe the blood off of your hands.

jiung chimes in from the other side of the couch, spreading out on the pillows as some of the tension leaves his body, “yeah… you did a good job.”

you only respond with a quick wave of your hand, the cloth is stained crimson by the time you discard it onto the table. no one speaks for a long moment while the frantic energy settles down – until intak gets back up on his feet and walks over to where the other injured man is sitting.

“come on, shota, i’ll clean you up,” he pours some of the leftover vodka on a smaller piece of gauze, tilting the other one’s head up with a hand under his chin as he inspects the little cuts and bruises with his gaze.

there are no protests from shota this time now that his friend has been taken care of. he lets intak dab the damp material over his wounds, wincing when the sting gets sharper around the few deeper ones, but he seems fine otherwise.

that seems to pull everyone back to reality, the atmosphere still heavy with a sense of danger but more lively now. jongseob leans forward in the armchair, forearms braced on his thighs, “how did this even happen?”

keeho lets out a long sigh, tired and almost embarrassed, in a way, for even letting this happen in the first place. he’s the unofficial leader of the group – he should be the one they trust to get the job done and to be able to protect himself and the others. and yet he failed, both them and himself.

“we wanted to search this old seven-eleven,” he murmurs under his nose, lifting his arm from his face and letting it fall limp onto the couch with a soft thud. he doesn’t take his gaze off the ceiling, “we didn’t see that there was another group of survivors until we went inside. we were outnumbered… and outweaponed.”

despite your sympathy, you have to bite your tongue to not let out the bitter laugh that bubbles up in your throat at the irony. it’s better that you let them solve this between themselves.

“you didn’t have your bags when you came back…” jiung’s voice quietens at the end of the sentence, as if he already knows what happened but has to ask anyway.

that brings another low breath out of keeho’s lips. he finally brings his head back up, but his eyes fall onto the floor immediately in shame. soul doesn’t pitch in, but he’s clearly avoiding intak’s gaze now, “they took everything.”

a beat of stunned silence.

“wait– they took all the stuff you had with you?” jiung’s incredulous gasp makes keeho bristle, his shoulders tensing.

the anger is clear in his voice and in the way the muscles in his jaw twitch from how tight it is, “like i said, they took everything.”

no one dares to say anything after that. it seems that between their shared looks they all realise that however fucked they were before in terms of supplies, they’re even more fucked now.

it’s keeho who breaks the quiet again – his voice gentler this time, more resigned than angry. he braces one booted foot on the edge of the coffee table.

“not only did we lose whatever me and shota managed to scavenge, but now we’re also behind with first aid,” the boxes rattle when he nudges the table with his leg, the unscrewed bottle swaying but maaging to stay upright. he pushes on the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he lets out a long exhale, “we’re gonna have to go out again tomorrow.”

it’s obvious by the way everyone’s shoulders slump almost at once that they’re not exactly thrilled about this idea; the more they go past the edge of the forest, the bigger the chance someone won’t come back in one piece, or at all. and with how things went this time, the stakes are exceptionally high.

“who’s gonna go?” jongseob asks. he seems to have curled into himself as if to appear smaller.

to your surprise, one hand rises almost right away.

“i’ll go,” intak mutters, throwing a bloodied gaze onto the table as he steps back from between shota’s legs. he doesn’t seem happy about it, his tone more like he’s doing the others a favour, but no one points it out, “it’s my turn, anyway.”

“i’m going, too,”

everyone’s eyes turn to keeho this time. he’s still paler than usual, his usually firm posture softened by the dizziness caused by blood loss.

“are you insane?” taeyang doesn’t feel too bothered by his friend’s weakened state as he whacks him in the back of his head, earning a surprised huff and a sharp glare in response, “you almost bled out on that couch. you’re not going anywhere.”

“well, good thing i didn’t ask for your fucking opinion,” he barks back, “it’s my fault that we didn’t bring anything back, so i’m gonna fix it.”

taeyang opens his mouth to argue further, but intak’s hand on his shoulder and a firm shake of his head makes him close it back up. he murmurs something about his keeho’s damn saviour complex, but he seems to know better than to fight him when he gets this stubborn. they all do.

throughout all of this, you stay seated on the far end of the couch, hands folded in your lap and eyes flickering between each speaker like you’re watching a tennis match. you’re torn between not wanting to intervene in their group dynamics and the urge to help; because despite the fact that you just got here yesterday and knowing that you could use the rest more than anyone, you can’t just sit here and wait for them to bring you food and supplies.

besides, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s surviving.

“...i can go with you,”

six heads snap in your direction, staring at you with various levels of shock and confusion as if you grew another head in seconds.

“i told you she has a death wish,” jiung murmurs, running a hand over his face.

you only shrug at that, “i mean, i survived on my own this whole time, i can handle myself. and you might need someone to stitch you up again.”

there’s a long pause as everyone considers the idea. sending you on a run would mean they should start treating you as a part of the group already, which is not appealing, but not less appealing than sending an injured member with just one more person to take care of him. and you do have a point about being capable and independent.

keeho hangs his head low, pinching the bridge of his nose with the hand of his healthy arm.

“sure, whatever. you, intak, and i will go,” he pushes himself up from the couch, ignoring the way they all hover around him in worry, “we leave at dawn.”

#♡

later that day, after the sun disappears behind the thick curtain of trees and gives way to the soft glow of the moon, you’re sitting on the front step of the cabin, the white smoke of the cigarette held between your fingers curling around your face and dissolving into the night.

after patching keeho up, you managed to convince taeyang to show you where he hid your backpack in exchange for some more of your food supplies. you’ve never been that big of a smoker before the world ended – your parents always warned you about addictions, something about taking care of your body and all that, but when one day a few months ago you found a whole ten-pack of camels, you didn’t think twice before taking them with you. between malnutrition, exhaustion, and living in constant fear, tobacco is probably the least deadly factor.

the guys were nice enough to offer you the couch to sleep on; jiung even put in the extra work of wiping it down with the remaining alcohol (to intak’s disappointment) to make sure there’s no blood stains, or any other stains for that matter. but despite a pillow under your head and the safety of a locked door, sleep didn’t find you for hours.

it’s your family again. you see them behind your eyelids every time you try to get some shut-eye, their happy faces, as you last saw them, reminding you of the worry gnawing at your chest ever since that first day the call went unanswered two and a half years ago.

are they alive? if they’re not, did they go in pain, turning into one of those monsters? and if they survived, how the hell are you gonna find them now?

you’re pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of someone clearing their throat behind you.

your head snaps around so fast it almost gives you whiplash, your body tensing on reflex – then loosens up when you’re met with the sight of no one else but keeho.

he’s leaning against the doorframe of the front entrance, his injured hand hanging down freely while the other sits in the pocket of the jacket he’s wearing – you recognise it to be the same one jongseob had on earlier today, probably since pulling that sweater over his head would be too painful right now. his expression doesn’t show much more than before, cheeks hollowed and a frown pulling on the corners of his lips as he watches you with a tired gaze.

“haven’t you heard that smoking kills?”

you raise an eyebrow at his murmured words, eyes taking in his whole body before going back up to his face, “no, that’s a new one on me,” you take a long drag, lips wrapping around the filter before you let the smoke out, and hold out the pack towards him in your other hand, “want one?”

the man hesitates, watching you exhale with a late-night kind of intensity, before he finally relents.

pushing himself off the frame, he takes a step forward, then another, until he’s close enough to lower himself onto the stair. without a word, he reaches out over the space he has left between you on purpose to take a single cigarette out of the pack, and brings it to his lips.

he stretches his hand out again with a silent question, but freezes when instead of dropping the lighter into his palm you strike it and hold it out on the same level as his face. his gaze catches yours for a split second, glinting with something in the likeness of a reluctant respect, before he moves his head forward to hold the end of the cigarette in the fire until it lights up.

his eyes fall shut as the tobacco smoke fills his lungs, the world spinning slightly from the first hit in years. his shoulders slump while he leans back, bracing his elbow on the step behind him. when he speaks, his voice drops an octave, his words coming out more raspy from the smoke, “holy shit…”

“i know,” the corners of your lips tug into a small smile at the sight of keeho letting go for the first time in the little time you’ve been in their house. it’s also the first time you have a moment to actually watch him more closely; his sharp cheekbones reflecting the moonlight, the tired lines around his eyes, the bridge of his nose curving just slightly…

even if he notices your lingering gaze, he doesn’t comment on it.

“couldn’t sleep?” the question leaves his mouth together with a puff of smoke, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

you shift your gaze back onto the trees before it meets his, “no… you?”

“me neither,” keeho shakes his head and flicks the ash off the cigarette, the way his eyes keep boring into the side of your head feeling almost like a test. there’s a beat of silence before he speaks again, “why’d you offer to go on that run?”

“what do you mean?” you tilt your head, taking another deep drag.

“you know… you’ve been here for one day. you have no reason to risk your life for us,” his tone is matter-of-fact, as if he’s struggling to fully understand your motives just yet, “could’ve just stayed here.”

you don’t respond right away, taking a moment to think as you watch the smoke leave your lips and disappear into the night. he’s right – you could have said nothing and stayed here, and probably should have.

“i don’t know,” your shoulders rise in a shrug as you sigh, fingers toying with the cigarette, “i guess i just feel like i owe it to you in some way.”

a thoughtful hum leaves his mouth, followed by something too bitter to be a chuckle, the corners of his lips barely twitching upwards, “you’ve got a backbone. it’s not something you see often these days.”

you let out a huff of air, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. you’re not sure if you’re convincing him or yourself.

“well, that’s what makes us different from biters, isn’t it?” your eyes flicker to his face at last to take in his reaction, “morality.”

keeho’s gaze meets yours, watching you intently as if trying to solve a puzzle. he seems impressed – albeit begrudgingly.

one of his eyebrows raises in a questioning look, maybe even challenging, “i’ve seen people do unforgivable things to survive.”

“those aren’t people,” shaking your head, you inhale the last of the smoke from your cigarette and throw it onto the lower step, crushing it with the sole of your boot, “and besides, if they are the kind that will survive this shit in the end and restore the population, then i’m glad i won’t be here to see it.”

keeho’s cigarette is almost burned out, but he doesn’t pay it any mind as he keeps his gaze fixated on you. his eyebrows furrow in thought, teeth biting down on his lower lip. not that you’re looking, anyway.

“well,” he murmurs at last, finally tearing his gaze away from you. he stubs the cigarette and throws it somewhere on the ground carelessly, before bracing his healthy arm on the stairs and pushing himself up to his feet.

his hands slip into the pockets of his jacket as he takes a moment to observe your surroundings, a not-fully comfortable silence falling between the two of you. you tilt your head up slightly to follow his eyes – the quiet forest, the crescent moon, the stars that have gotten so much brighter since all electricity in the cities was cut off. it’s almost serene, if you forget about the death that lurks behind every corner.

a few minutes pass like this before keeho speaks again, voice lower than before as if even he knows not to disturb the fragile peace.

“we leave at first light,” he steps onto the higher stair, “don’t make me regret taking you with me.”

you almost want to laugh at his words, a smartass remark bubbling up in your throat already. but you swallow it back down, sending him a mock-salute in response.

that seems to be enough for him, because he turns around fully after that and takes the last stair to the entrance. he doesn’t ask if you’re going inside as well, doesn’t tell you to get some sleep before the run – just goes through the threshold wordlessly, leaving you alone with your thoughts on the porch.

but instead of the click of the door being closed, there’s a pause, silent. a prickling sensation crawls up the back of your neck.

then the door shuts.

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⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“oh my fucking godddd, jay,” you slurred, the world around you moving in slow motion. “you’re soooooo funny.”

you were however-many shots deep, a quickly-depleting bottle of vodka sitting in between the two of you as you lounged on the floor of his bedroom.

“ha, yeah? you laugh so cute when you’re drunk,” he responded, taking another swig straight from the bottle as he languidly leaned back against his bed.

clearly, several mistakes had been made, but who’s counting?

“f-fuck, ‘m so drunk…. am i drunk?” you pouted at him, crawling over to grab the bottle.

he shook his head with a grin, moving the bottle away from you. “no—no…” he warned like he was stopping a kitten from chewing something up. “you’re very drunk, sweetheart.”

you pouted at him, fists falling into your lap as you huffed in defeat. “jayyy, but we were having so much fun!”

his hand moved to stroke your hair, his first time touching you since the two of you started drinking. “i know, pretty. but i gotta make sure you’re safe, hmm?”

you cocked your head at him, your brain scrambling to keep up. “but… i only wanna be with you, and no one else, so i’m safe, right?”

he softly laughed to himself. “you’re so cute.” he carefully set down the bottle away from you, stretching out his legs as he leaned his head back against the bed. suddenly, he noticed the way your eyelids drooped ever-so-slightly, eyes widening with concern as he leaned in close. “hey, hey, what’s wrong? you feeling okay?”

you nodded slowly, blinking the drowsiness from your eyes. “mhmm… just sleepy, wanna lie down…”

it was as if your vulnerable state made jay sober up a little, causing him to fall back on his protective instincts. he gently tucked your arms over his shoulders and easily hoisted you onto his bed, setting you down and draping blankets over your small frame.

for the record, this was the best bed you had ever laid on in your life.

“hehe, jay’s tucking me innn,” you chirped, feeling the cool bedsheets brush against your feverish skin.

he gave you an amused smirk as he moved to the other side of the room to dim the lights. “s’that okay?”

you nodded, hugging a pillow to your chest as you gazed at him.

“okay.” he gave you a small smile before feeling his phone buzz in his pocket.

wya jay

some girls wanna play rage cage w us u down ?

he automatically started typing out a response before realizing where he was. he looked up at you. “hey, i’m gonna head downstairs, do you need me to bring something up for you?”

your eyes widened. “you’re leaving?”

his lips parted as though he were caught off-guard. “oh, yeah, just gonna check on the party and all… that…”

his words trailed off as he realized the implications of leaving you in this vulnerable state alone in his room. he pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily. “fuck, what am i saying…” he took a seat on the edge of his bed, fingers flying across the screen as he erased his original response.

not tn

dyt u can run the party? smth else came up

is it a baddie 👀

fuck off

he tossed his phone on the nightstand before looking at you with something softer in his eyes. “hi, i’m sorry.”

“hi sorry. hehe,” you giggled, reaching out for him. he raised a curious brow at your outstretched arms. “cuddle me.”

he shook his head, grabbing your warm hands with his cooler ones and setting them back down. “mm, you’re drunk.”

“i know i am, but what are you?” words began to slip from your lips before you could stop them.

he chuckled. “well, you got me there.” sighing, he briefly lifted his cap to run a hand through his hair, ruffling it a bit. he looked at you with an affectionate glint in his eye. “so, what do you want to do?”

“i said i wanna cuddle,” you demanded. even in your drunken state, all you wanted to do was to be close to him.

he bit his lip, clearly being swayed by your stubbornness. “sweetheart, you’re drunk. i don’t want to do anything that you might…”

“jay, pleaseee? just cuddling. wanna bite on your big strong arms.”

your candid omission caught him off guard as he let out a half-choke, half-laugh. “you sure, princess? i just want to make sure.”

you met his gaze earnestly with a nod, as though you had never been more sure of anything in your life.

“okay.” he moved his body to hover over yours, placing an arm near your head as he leaned his head down slightly. “tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

his velvety voice sent shivers down your spine as you bit your lip and nodded. with a shaky breath, jay lowered himself down next to you on the bed, propping his head up with one hand.

“how do you want to do this?” he asked, an amused smirk playing on his lips. “you seem like the little spoon type.”

“yeah, i wanna be cuddled. sooooo bad,” you drawled as you clumsily reached for his face. he let your fingers tickle his cheeks and lips, blinking like a cat being poorly petted.

without a word, he gently slid his hand along your waist, pulling you in closer to the warm, firm planes of his body until you were chest to chest. you could feel your heart pounding as he nuzzled into your hair, holding you flush against him. “you comfy?”

“mhm.” you gently nudged him to lie down fully, nestling your head on top of his chest. “sooo comfy.”

the last thing you remember is breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cologne as he held you close, and the strange sound of buzzing coming from somewhere on top of the nightstand…

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

you woke up in a cold sweat and a very dim room.

peeking up without creating too much movement, you realized that jay’s arms were still wrapped around you, and that he had fallen into a restful slumber too.

the moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated the sharp angles of his face in an ethereal glow, and in that moment of quiet, it truly felt like you were the only two in the universe.

“hm… babe?” a groggy voice jolted you from your thoughts.

you instinctively jolted away. “oh, i—”

“nn… c’mere…” he groaned, pulling your body back to his like a lifeline.

“jay,” you breathed, worried if he really wanted you like this.

all of a sudden, a soft kiss landed on your temple as he whispered your name. “stay with me.”

your heart leapt in your throat as you tried to tame your nerves. you let out a shaky sigh. “jay.”

your stern tone seemed to lull him awake. “mm… yeah?”

your body was nearly trembling as you weighed your options. on one hand, you were foolishly in bed with a seemingly stereotypical frat guy, still a bit intoxicated. on the other hand, he smelled and looked really fucking good. and to be honest, you were more than a little touch-starved.

all of a sudden, his nose was prodding at your jaw, lips traveling down to ghost over your throat. “can i?”

you swallowed, all of your inner dilemmas melting away as you leaned into his touch. “y-yes…”

“fuck, thank god,” he groaned, lips immediately latching to suck on your throat like a thirsting vampire.

“a-ahh, jay…” you whined, fingers threading through his hair on instinct.

“keep…” he breathed in between licking hot stripes and searing bites on your neck. “keep saying my name like that, baby.”

he nipped at your neck, so sharp it almost felt like he had fangs, causing you to yelp. “jay!”

he pressed one last kiss to your feverish skin before pulling back for air, breathing heavy as he stared down at you. “fuck, i could taste you for hours…” a hand snaked around your waist, a sly smirk spreading across his lips. “wanna keep going?”

your chest heaved as you admired the hunger overflowing in his half-lidded eyes. “mhm…”

he wasted no time at all, hands traveling up to caress your breasts, which were nearly spilling out of your cute top. “baby,” he pouted, leaning down to press a kiss at your sweet cleavage. “how did you sleep in this? couldn’t have been comfy at all.”

“want it off,” you panted, suddenly feeling very overheated. “can you help me take it off, jay?”

he nodded, beckoning you upright as he untied the laces of your top with a reverent touch, as though he had all the time in the world for you. “so pretty. such a sweet girl, all for me.”

you blushed at his praise before slipping out of your garments, exposing your skimpy lacy bra underneath.

“fuck, babe.” he couldn’t tear his eyes away from your breasts, hands moving to them on instinct. “holy fuck. you’re perfect...”

you squirmed underneath his heated gaze, falling back against the fluffy pillows. he followed you down, lips fervently kissing down your neck, your collarbone, your chest. he looked up at you. “can i?”

you nodded, immediately whining as you felt him latch onto your breasts. he flicked his tongue cruelly against your hardening nipples, commanding your writhing body with each movement.

“nnn… jay—hah! too much!” you cried, hands threading through his hair. he pulled back from sucking on your tits with a deep groan, feeling the hardening strain in his pants as he admired your gorgeous body.

“god,” jay breathed from above you, brow furrowed and eyes dark as though he were deliberating over how to devour you. his hips instinctively pushed down into yours, slowly grinding his clothed dick against your core, causing you to yelp. he let out a low chuckle. “ugh, m’already so hard for you, sweetheart. you feel that? you feel how fucking hard my cock’s grinding against your little pussy?”

your eyes nearly rolled back with the pressure building in between your thighs. each mean roll of his hips had you growing more and more desperate for the real thing. “ahhh, jay,” you mewled, eyes round and lips pouted. “want it inside me now.”

he smirked. he knew you were putty in his hands. “good girl. love when you say my name all pretty like that.” he pressed a swift kiss to your forehead, causing your heart to skip a beat, before pulling away from you to free himself from his sweatpants. he reached in the drawer of his nightstand, swiftly unwrapping a condom. within a few moments, he was already on top of you again, caressing your waist.

you looked down in between your bodies, eyes immediately widening into watery saucers at his impossibly massive length. he was fucking huge. “oh my—jay…”

he chuckled at your amazed reaction. “you like it?” he gave his throbbing dick a few experimental strokes, long fingers barely wrapping all the way around it. “gonna get this cock inside you real soon, okay? you ready?”

you swallowed thickly, a dizzying mix of hesitation and excitement fluttering in your belly. “can you hold my hand?” you asked shyly, plush thighs squishing together.

his eyes softened at your sweet request. “of course, sweetheart.” he used a gentle touch to guide your legs back open before unraveling your fingers and threading his between them. he gave your hand a squeeze, peering affectionately into your eyes. “all better?”

you nodded. “y-you can go in now.”

he let out a low groan as you finally gave him the command he had been waiting for all this time. still grabbing your hand tight, he carefully lined up his tip with your entrance before slowly pushing himself in.

the insane stretch was unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. immediately, your fingers clenched around his as your eyes squeezed shut, fiercely biting your lip to keep from screaming as he inserted himself inch by excruciating inch.

“babe—baby, open your eyes. look at me,” jay whispered, leaning down to brush his nose against yours. “just breathe. let me in. let me make you feel good.”

his calming words coaxed your body into a more relaxed state, your panicked breaths slowing as he guided his cock further and further inside you. even when you felt like you were completely stuffed, he continued to sink into you, letting out strained grunts at the way your pussy was fighting to clench around him.

“f-fuck… so f-fucking tight, squeezing this thick cock…” he muttered before letting out a primal groan as he finally, finally bottomed out. your body had never felt so full. you gripped onto his hand for dear life as you struggled to adjust to his overwhelming size.

“good girl, good girl, so fucking good for me,” he cooed, stroking your face lovingly as he sung your praises. with each word, your body seemed to ease up a little bit more, yet he shook his head disapprovingly at your quiet state; he wanted to hear you. “talk to me, baby. does it feel good? do you feel me inside you?”

you nodded, tears brimming at your waterline. “it feels… really… like a lot,” you mumbled as he soothingly stroked your hand with his thumb.

he was clearly struggling to fight the urge to just pound you into the mattress with the way your warm walls were hugging him so tight… but he couldn’t hurt the sweet angel gracing his bed.

“mm, baby, i think you’ll loosen up a bit if i start moving. is that okay? do you want that?” jay nuzzled your nose playfully in an attempt to lighten your mood.

you giggled at his featherlight touch. “hey, t-tickles.” you sniffled, meeting his gaze. “okay.”

“okay,” he repeated with a tiny grin, giving your hand another squeeze. “relax your body for me, okay?”

you barely had the chance to nod before he began to move inside you, steadily drawing his length out before plugging you up again in a dizzying rhythm. his thrusts were slow and heavy, his thick cock dragging deliciously against your fluttering walls.

“ngh—baby, baby, loosen up,” he furrowed his brow, free hand darting out to rest on your tummy. his warm touch was so soothing. “that’s it, good girl.”

at some point, the sheer size of him forced your body to instinctively surrender itself to him. your eyes crossed as you felt him thrust deeper inside of you. “ah, jay…”

“eyes on me, sweetheart,” he commanded, wanting to savor your every expression. he watched as your dazed gaze clumsily locked onto his, lips parted in a gorgeous ‘o’ to show him just how good he was fucking you. god, you were such a perfect doll for him. “keep that mouth open, baby.” he leaned down, fucking into you harder as his instincts threatened to take over. “can i spit in your mouth?”

your eyes widened at his filthy request, peering up at the way he hungrily studied you. his cock continued to bully its way into your folds until it molded your cunt to remember its shape.

you nodded.

“fuck, you’re so sexy,” he hissed, using a rough thumb to drag your bottom lip downward. “open, baby.” as you obeyed, he spat a thick glob of his saliva into your mouth, causing you to whine in surprise as you felt it slowly travel down your throat.

jay groaned lowly at just how submissive you were for him. you were bending to his every will, and he fucking loved it.

“your pussy’s sucking me in, baby—t-taking my cock so well. you hear it?” he whispered in your ear, increasing the power of his thrusts to emphasize the squelches sounding from your sopping cunt. “ugh, listen, baby. listen to how wet your fucking pussy is.”

“s-so wet,” you babbled, feeling your body shift up the bed with each thrust. “faster, daddy, want it faster.”

a bead of sweat flicked onto your face as he shook his head, completely enthralled—almost in disbelief—by your insatiable desire. “yeah? you think you can take it?” he gripped your hips possessively, sinking his cock deeper inside you. “you asked for it, sweetheart.”

you immediately ate your words as he began to pound into you at a relentless pace, using a bruising grip on your hips to leverage his swollen dick further and further inside your pulsing walls.

“ngh! j-jay! jay!” you sobbed, tits jiggling with the sheer force he was thrusting into you with. “i’m gonna—please…”

“please what, baby?” he teased, a devilish smirk on his face as his body claimed yours. “you were begging for this, hmm?” he found a sick, twisted pleasure in watching you fade away into bliss as you drooled onto the pillow. he loved that in this dazed state, you so easily allowed him to utterly wreck your insides by folding your plush thighs into a mean mating press and burying his cock to the hilt inside you, nudging your cervix with each snap of his hips.

“i… i love you, jay,” you babbled, entirely cock-drunk.

he let out an amused chuckle, leaning down to give you a sloppy kiss as his thrusts continued their assault on your ruined pussy. “cute. so cute, all fucked out like this.” he felt his engorged cock begin to twitch as he closely observed your expression. “mm, you close, baby?”

still completely out of your mind, you desperately guided one of his hands down between your legs, prompting him to play with your clit. “t-there, jay, keep petting me there 'till i cum…”

a breathy laugh escaped his lips. “god, you’re sexy. i love a girl who says what she wants.” his fingers immediately carried out your request, the thick pads of his digits toying with your sensitive bud. he watched as you squirmed and mewled under his teasing touch. “hm, you like that?”

you only gave a whine in response, quickly approaching your high as he pleasured you with both his fingers and his cock. “t-thank you daddy, feels so so so fucking good, m’gonna cum, m’gonna—!”

a delighted squeal slipped from your throat as his thumb brushed perfectly against your clit while his tip nudged that spongy spot deep inside your pussy, making you see stars. the overwhelming sensation of his cock stuffing you to the brim caused your cunt to suddenly spasm around his dick, fluttering walls hugging it tight as your entire body convulsed with pleasure. “oh my goddd, jay!”

he marveled at the way your entire body vibrated with pleasure, a steady stream of liquid splashing from your cunt as he fucked you through your orgasm. jaw slack in awe, he let out a gravelly moan at your pretty whines and pants, folding your thighs and pressing into you deeper. “holy s-shit baby, squeezing ‘round me so tight, milk me, fuck, fuck…”

he rammed his cock head into your cervix with one final thrust, grunting into your ear as he spilled his cum into the condom, imagining he was filling up your fertile hole with his seed. he furrowed his brow, his expression purely possessive, completely blinded by his desire to claim you as his own. you were just so soft and lovely and perfect, he just had to have you to himself.

“jay, feel so full, ohmigod…” you panted, eyes round as you peered up at the man who had just utterly destroyed your insides. just a few hours ago, the two of you were nothing more than strangers, yet here you were, completely in love with his cock.

as he slowly pulled out of you, he had a stern look on his face, as though he were sorting through a tangled mess of conflicting emotions. but unfortunately for him, you didn’t feel like any other girl in his bed—something about you entranced him.

“…jay?” you felt your heart sink as you noticed his quiet demeanor, and reality quickly seeped in; he really was just a stranger, and you were laid bare and caged in his hold.

he panted above you, muscular arms shaking with exertion. after a few moments, he met your gaze with an uncharacteristic timidness. “are you… okay?”

you noticed the way his voice quivered ever so slightly, as though this was all new to him. a small smile appeared on your lips as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you. “yeah, i’m okay.” you searched his dark eyes, admiring the way they flitted all across your face as though he were committing your features to memory, before enveloping his lips in a languid kiss.

he immediately lowered himself onto you, strong jaw working as the two of you made out, slow and steady like he had all the time in the world for you.

he pulled away with a shaky breath, chest visibly heaving as he took in your fragile state. “you are so…”

you cocked your head at him, tracing your fingers up and down the ripples of his biceps thoughtfully. as you looked into his eyes, you noticed how his pupils were blown wide with something other than lust for you.

“you’re so perfect. in every way.” he rested his forehead earnestly against yours, as though he couldn’t bear to be any further apart from you. “i need you in my life. so bad.”

you giggled softly at his sweet confession. the post-orgasm clarity had turned him into a clingy kitten. “are you still drunk?”

your assessment must not have been far off, as he was currently focused solely on nuzzling into your neck. “nnn… dunno. i just like you.”

you let him pepper little kisses down your neck, savoring the feeling of his tongue tickling the sensitive skin there. “jay, up. look at me.”

hovering over you like this, he looked a little dazed, eyes half-lidded and hair unkempt as his gaze met yours.

“i…” you struggled to find the right words to say. how could you encapsulate everything that happened over the past few hours in one breath? “i don’t know how you feel about being friends with benefits, or not having strings attached—”

“i don’t want that.” he shook his head defiantly, reaching out to cup your face tenderly in his palm. “i want you. all of you. and it’s not because i’m drunk.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “was this the best pussy you’ve ever had or something?”

“no—i mean, shit, yeah, but that’s not the point,” he muttered, a blush creeping up on his face as you laughed at his flustered reaction. his eyes slid over to yours again. “you make me feel things i haven’t felt before.”

this time, it was your turn to blush. “aw, stop it… tell me more.”

he chuckled at your response. “see? you’re so silly, and sweet, and soft, and i want to…”

“go on.” you nodded, curiosity piqued by the way he shyly averted his gaze.

“…i want to keep you all to myself.” ♡

requested for my 300 follower event! discover the event here ♡

You’d been kissing for what felt like hours, slow, deep, exploring kisses that tasted of the sugary candy you had been eating together earlier.

Your shirt clad chest pressed against his bare one, his lips soft but insistent, tongue a gentle promise against yours. This was your routine. The making out that would leave you both breathless and flushed, that would stir an ache low in your belly, but would always, always stop before it became too much.

Jiung never pushed. He’d kiss you until your lips were swollen, hold you until your limbs were liquid in his hands, and then, with a soft, pained groan into your neck, he’d untangle himself, adjust himself discreetly, and leave you with a chaste kiss on the forehead, his own need a secondary concern to your comfort.

You had a fear of sex. Not of him, never of him, but of the act itself. The vulnerability, the potential for pain, the loss of control. He knew. He’d held you through quiet tears when you first confessed to him, scared that he'd leave you as so many others had. He listened without judgment as you fumbled through explanations of your nerves. His patience was a fortress around your fragile feelings.

But tonight… tonight was different. A restless, needy want surged through you. The usual slow burn of your make-out sessions felt like it was igniting something more in your body. You broke the kiss, panting softly, and instead of settling against his chest, you began to move. A timid, tentative roll of your hips, grinding the soft cotton of your pajama shorts against his stomach and lower.

Jiung’s breath hitched. His hands tightened on your waist. “Baby?” he murmured, his voice breathy against your lips.

You didn’t answer with words. You just kissed him again, more desperately this time, your tongue sliding over his as you ground down harder. A tiny, helpless noise escaped your throat, a high-pitched whimper you barely recognized as your own.

It was like flipping a switch in him. A low groan escaped his throat which only encouraged you more. “Fuck,” he whispered against your mouth. “Those little sounds… you’re going to kill me.”

Emboldened, you held onto his broad shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle there. You rocked against him, seeking friction, seeking more.

The thin layers of fabric between you were a maddening barrier. You could feel the hard length of him, trapped in his sweatpants, pressing insistently against you with every movement. You rubbed yourself against him, your movements growing less hesitant and more purposeful. The tension in your lower belly was tightening, a sweet, urgent pull.

“Jiung,” you gasped, breaking the kiss to bury your face in the crook of his neck. God he smelled so good. “I… I need…”

“What do you need, sweetheart?” His voice was strained, thick with desire, but his hands were still gentle, one coming up to cradle the back of your head. “Tell me. Anything you want.”

You lifted your head, meeting his dark, caring eyes. They were full of so much heat, but also an unwavering patience. “Can I have... a little more. Please?”

He searched your face for a long moment in awe, his gaze tracing your flushed cheeks, your kiss-swollen lips, the desperate plea in your eyes. He nodded slowly, a solemn agreement. “You can have whatever you want my love. Can I take these off?” he asked, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your pajama shorts.

You nodded, a shiver of anticipation and nervousness racing down your spine. “Yes.”

His movements were careful. He guided you off his lap as he helped you lift your hips, sliding the soft shorts down your legs and tossing them aside. The cool air of the room kissed your heat, making you aware of how exposed you were in just your shirt and panties. He then hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his own sweatpants, pushing them down before kicking them off the bed.

The sight of him, lying back against the pillows in just his black boxers, stole your breath. He was all lean muscle and smooth skin, his pretty tattoos on full display. The soft lines of his abdomen led down to where an unmistakable erection strained against the cotton, the tip already dark with moisture and visibly outlined. You swallowed hard.

“Come here,” he whispered with a pat to his lap. He was lying back fully, guiding you to settle back on top of him, your soaked pussy now aligned directly with the ridge of his cock through the fabric. The new position was more intimate, more intense. You could almost feel every inch of him.

Hesitantly, you began to move again, grinding against him slowly. The sensation was immediately different. The thin material of your panties and his boxers were a pathetic curtain between your heated flesh. A jolt of pure pleasure shot through you, and a soft “oh” fell from your lips.

“That’s it,” Jiung encouraged, his hands settling on your hips. “Just like that. Feel good?”

“Mmm-hmm,” you managed, already losing yourself to the rhythm. You started moving harder, chasing that addicting feeling, your thighs gripping his sides. The wetness gathering between your legs was making the glide so much smoother. You could hear the soft, wet sound of fabric moving against fabric.

“God, look at you,” he groaned, his eyes raking over your body. Your shirt had ridden up, exposing the soft skin of your stomach. “Can I touch you? Here?” His hands hovered over your torso.

“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”

His touch was fire. One large hand slid up under your shirt, his palm scorching as it cupped your breast and he was delighted to find no bra there, just your bare skin. Your heart hammered in your chest at the contact, this being the first time he'd ever touched you there.

He squeezed gently, his thumb brushing over your nipple until it pebbled into a hard peak between his fingers. The other hand splayed across your stomach, possessive and warm, before sliding around to grip your waist, holding you steady as you moved against him.

Lost in the sensation, your own hands reached behind you, bracing on his strong thighs for support as you rocked your hips in a desperate circle. The friction was exquisite, building a pressure that you had never experienced before.

Jiung’s gaze was locked between your bodies. His breathing was harsh. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he choked out. “Look at that. You’re soaking through your panties. I can see it.” A dark, wet patch had indeed bloomed on the light-colored fabric, clear evidence of your arousal.

He bit his lower lip, a muscle ticking in his jaw. “Can we… can we take these off? Just these. I promise, I won’t do anything else. I just… I need to feel all of you against me. No barriers. Please.”

His plea was raw and honest. You were scared, a flutter of panic in your chest at the thought of being so bare before him. But this was Jiung. Your Jiung. Who had never broken a promise to you and who you've never ever felt uncomfortable with.

You gave a shy, almost imperceptible nod.

The devotion in his movements made your throat tighten.

Once again, he gently moved you off his lap and hooked his fingers into the sides of your panties and drew them down your legs with agonizing slowness, his eyes drinking in the newly revealed flesh. When they were completely off, he didn’t immediately move. He was transfixed. His breath left him in a shaky, awed rush.

“Wow,” he whispered, his voice full of wonder. “You’re so fucking beautiful. Every part of you. Absolutely stunning.” His gaze was hot, worshipful, drinking in the glistening folds, thankful that you trusted him enough to reveal yourself to him. The intimacy of it was overwhelming, but the pure admiration in his eyes chased some of the fear away.

He quickly discarded his own underwear, freeing his painful erection. It sprang up, long and veined, the head flushed a deep pretty red and beading with pre-cum. It was intimidating, the sheer reality of it, its size, its obvious need. You whimpered, your body tensing ever so slightly.

“Shhh,” he soothed instantly, catching your reaction. He leaned forward to kiss you softly. “It’s just me. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. We can stop right now.” His sincerity was endearing.

“No,” you whispered back, kissing him. “I want… I want to feel you.”

Blushing furiously, he helped guide you back onto his lap. The moment your bare skin met his, the hot, silken head of his cock pressing against your dripping folds, you both gasped. It was a shock of sensation, so much more intense than through fabric. His hands returned to your hips, gripping firmly as he helped you grind down on him.

“That’s my girl,” he praised, his voice rough.“Ride me just like that. Use me to make yourself feel good. God, your pussy is so soft, so wet for me. You feel that? How perfect we fit together even like this?”

You could only choke out a whimper in response, your head falling back as you moved. The hard head of his cock dragged through your slickness, rubbing against your sensitive clit with every pass, setting your nerves alight. The sounds were so obscene, wet, slick, squelches that filled the room. You leaned in to kiss him, needing the balance of the sweet innocent touch in contrast to the not so innocent touch below you.

And you were dizzy with it, with the feel of him, the smell of sex and sweat, the sight of his blissful face watching you come apart.

“Jiung,” you panted, tearing your mouth from his to press your forehead against his shoulder. Your movements became less coordinated, more sporadic. “I need mngh- I....ah!” You didn't even know what you were saying, babbling uselessly on his cock.

“I know, sweet girl, I know,” he soothed, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other spread on the small of your back. “You’re doing so good. Just feel it. Listen to your body.” His own body was flexing hard against you, every muscle tensed with the effort to control himself. He kissed along your jaw, down your throat, his tongue tasting the salty sweat on your skin.

“You’re making such a pretty mess for me, all over my stomach. My good girl.”

Overwhelmed, you captured his lips again, wet and sloppy, matching the pace perfectly. As the intensity built in your belly, you began to clench around nothing, your clit pulsating against him and the aching emptiness inside you was becoming unbearable. You pulled back, your eyes swimming with desperate tears of frustration and longing.

Before you even realized what he was doing, he gripped your waist and rolled you both over, laying you down on your back amidst the crumpled sheets. You whined in protest, a sound so sweetly frustrated, your hips arching off the bed, seeking the lost friction. “Why’d you do that? I want… I want to make you feel good.”

God how could someone be so unbelievably sexy and cute at the same time Jiung thought. You had really thought you were in control. You thought just because you were on top, because he let you set that sweet little pace, that he wasn't holding every ounce of control. The way he guided your hips when they faltered, the way he kept your thrusts shallow so he wouldn't scare you away, the way he had to hold himself back to keep from flipping you over an hour ago and driving into you until you both forgot your names.

He looked down at you, your brows still furrowed in adorable frustration.

He could only imagine the future. The future where he would finally show you what control really feels like. When he would pin those pretty wrists above your head and watch your eyes go wide when you realize how much stronger he is, how easily he could tear you apart. How he would turn that sweet, needy grinding into deep, possessive thrusts that leave you sobbing his name.

A tremor of raw anticipation ran through him at the thought. Oh my love, you have no idea.

He leaned down, kissing away the crease between your brows, then lower to capture your lips in a slow deep kiss meant to silence your protests and swallow your little whimpers.

"Shhh my sweet girl," he murmured, one hand coming up to cradle your jaw, his thumb stroking your cheekbone.

"I don't want you getting tired from grinding on me." The truth, but not all of it.

He kissed you again softly before continuing, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"Let me take care of you princess," he whispered. "That's how you make me feel good."

He settled between your thighs, spreading you open wider. The position was more exposing, more vulnerable. You watched the intense focus on his face as he looked down at your dripping cunt with stars in his eyes, still clenching uselessly around nothing. "God look at you."

Then he reached down and took himself in hand. You watched, mesmerized, as he stroked himself a few times, pleasuring himself with just the sight of your pussy, then finally guiding the broad head of his cock through your soaked folds. He rubbed it against you, coating himself in your arousal, the swollen tip catching on your entrance slightly, sending your heart racing, before sliding up to circle your clit.

“Oh god!” you cried out, your back arching off the bed. The direct stimulation was unbelievable. Each pass sent jolts of white-hot pleasure straight to your core. He set a slow, torturous pace, watching your face intently.

“You like that?” he murmured, his own control slipping. “You like my cock rubbing against your pretty little pussy? Look at how wet you are for me. You’re dripping all over me. Such a good girl, taking it so well.”

You cried out, between his voice and cock, the sensations were so intense you could barely breathe, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge without letting you fall.

“That’s it, let me hear you. Your moans are the best sound I’ve ever heard. You have no idea what you do to me. I could spend hours just like this, feeling you get wetter and wetter."

He was true to his word as he glided through your sensitive flesh with increasing pressure and speed. The pressure inside you was wound impossibly tight, a screaming tension that demanded release. You were thrashing beneath him, clutching at the sheets, a continuous stream of pleas and cries falling from your lips.

“Can’t… I can’t…” you sobbed.

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he teased, wanting nothing more than to drive you mad. “Can’t take it? You can. You’re taking it so beautifully.” He leaned down to kiss you on the nose. “Tell me what you want. Use those pretty words.”

Gathering every ounce of courage, you reached between your bodies, your fingers brushing against his where he held himself. You looked up into his burning eyes and whispered, so quietly he had to strain to hear, “Can you… put the tip in? Just… just the tip?”

He stilled for a fraction of a second, surprise flashing across his features. “Just the tip?” he repeated, his voice hushed.

You nodded frantically, your face burning with a mix of shame and desperate need. “Yeah. Please. Just the tip.”

A groan ripped from his chest, a sound of pure agony and ecstasy, he could have cum right then and there. “Fuck. Okay. Okay, baby. Just the tip. I promise. For my brave girl."

He shifted his position slightly, aligning himself perfectly with you. Holding your eyes, he applied a gentle pressure. The blunt head of his cock began to press against your tight entrance. "Relax for me my love, let me in."

There was a moment of resistance, a stretching burn that made you gasp, and then suddenly he was inside. Just an inch, maybe even less.

The feeling was immense. A fullness, a stretching heat you’d never known. You cried out, a sharp sound that melted into a long, low mewl.

A wave of emotion crashed over you. The vulnerability, the trust, the sheer physical intensity of it was too much, and a choked sob escaped your throat. Hot tears welled in your eyes and spilled over, tracking down your cheeks rapidly.

Jiung froze instantly. “Hey, hey,” he whispered, his voice heavy with concern. He brushed your tears away with his thumbs, his own body trembling to keep still inside you. “Does it hurt? We can stop right now.”

You shook your head frantically, your inner muscles fluttering around that incredible, invasive inch of him. “N-no… it’s… it’s just… a lot.” You managed a watery smile. “Good. It’s so good.”

He searched your eyes, finding only truth, and his expression transformed into one of awe. He dropped a kiss on your tear streaked cheek, then your lips. “I know, baby, I know,” he murmured. “It’s overwhelming. You’re so perfect. So fucking tight. So hot inside. Taking me so well, my perfect girl. Just breathe for me.”

You did, drawing in a ragged breath. The initial sting was already fading, replaced by a deep, throbbing ache of pleasure. He was inside you. A part of him was connected to a part of you.

“Okay?” he whispered.

“Okay,” you breathed. “Move… please move.”

He withdrew slowly until he was completely out of you, cock pressed to your fluttering entrance, then pushed back in that same shallow, careful inch.

The drag was exquisite. Each time he slid back in, a fresh sob hitched in your chest, tears of overwhelming pleasure now mixing with the earlier emotional release. He vehemently kept his promise, never sinking deeper, but with each thrust, he picked up speed.

“That’s it,” he encouraged, his own breath coming in painful ragged pants. “Cry for me, princess. Let me see how good it feels. You’re such a pretty mess for me. My messy, perfect dirty girl.” His words were a lifeline as you clung to every single one. “Fuck, you’re tight. Just squeezing the tip so sweetly. You wanna milk me dry just like this? Hmm? Gonna make me come from just this little bit of your tight pussy?”

His words sent a series of spasms through you. You were unraveling completely, sobbing openly now with each thrust. You've never been this close to release before, your fingers never being enough.

With a groan that was pure lust, he pulled all the way out, his slick cock leaving your fluttering entrance just to drag the swollen head back through your soaked folds, painting your clit with a thick stripe of your combined wetness.

“Yes! God, yes!” You cried out at the new rhythm.

He slid his cock head back to your entrance and pushed, filling that aching space once more. You cried out, the relief instantaneous and profound. He gave you three, four, five of those perfect, small thrusts, until he pulled out again to rub against you.

He used his cock like that, sliding the length of it through your drenched slit, from your clit all the way back to your entrance, coating himself and spreading your arousal everywhere.

He watched with fascination. "So messy. Making such a mess on my cock huh?"

In. Out and up. In. Out and up. It was a cycle of tension and relief that built upon itself with every pass.

You couldn't take it any more. The pressure was too much to take.

"I can't!" You choked out. "It's too much!"

“You can, my love, you can do it. Come on, cum all over my cock. This sweet, perfect cunt. I love you so much. You can do it.”

The pressure broke without warning. Your orgasm crashed over you, violent and all-consuming. Your inner muscles clamped down viscously around the invading tip of him as a silent scream tore through you, your body convulsing under his.

The feeling of your clamping heat was his undoing. With a raw moan of pure pleasure, he followed you over. You felt the hot, intimate pulse of his cum inside you mixing with your own.

He collapsed onto his forearms above you, too weak to hold out any longer, burying his face in your neck as you both shuddered through the aftershocks. His body was heavy and warm as it relaxed against yours.

After a moment, he lifted his head. He was still inside you, that tender connection maintained. He looked down at your pretty face, at your tear-streaked face, your swollen lips, your fucked-out expression, and his eyes shone with a love so fierce it stole the last of your breath.

He leaned down and kissed you so deep you felt it in your soul. When he pulled back, he whispered against your lips, a vow for the future, thick with promise and commitment.

"Can't wait to make love to you."

—

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his vampire costume is perfect, maybe too perfect. black cape flowing, shirt unbuttoned to show off pale, glittering skin—like someone dusted diamonds across his collarbones. the skin of a killer even. rich boy, old money, lives here with his uncle in this creepy-ass house. rumors say his family and a few others founded the town back in the 1800s, their wealth ancient and endless. unbeknownest to you and everyone else, he's been there since day one. his name's signed on the town's registry, the faded ink sitting some crusty ass book in the library dating back to 1864—he’s repeated highschool, college who knows how many times. he’s playing a game he’s already won.

his eyes catch yours, and his grin screams trouble—knowing, like he’s reading every dirty thought in your head. you’re already so down bad, imagining those long fingers somewhere else and he hasn’t even spoken yet. he cuts through the crowd fast—too fast, like he’s gliding—and stops right in front of you, towering, smelling faintly of something sharp and metallic? like blo—

“hey, angel,” his voice low and smooth, breaking you out of your thoughts as he leans in so his breath brushes your ear, cool in a way that shouldn’t feel so good. “did it hurt when you fell from heaven?” he flashes a smile, knowing how corny that was, but then his hand grazes your wing then your lower back, fingers lingering, sending a jolt straight to your core.

you laugh, a little nervous but the punch loosened you up a bit. “i'm y/n. and no, i like to think it was a pretty soft landing.”

you smile and sip your drink, eyeing him over the rim, his presence making your skin hum. “pretty on par for a vampire. standing in the corner and brooding.”

he chuckles, a deep rumble, grabbing your hand to pull you to the dance floor. “satoru gojo. and yeah? maybe i need to switch it up a little then, hm? let's dance.”

his hands find your hips, gripping firm as you sway together, bodies syncing to the heavy beat. he’s cold to the touch, but the friction builds heat fast, your ass pressing against his crotch, feeling him harden—thick, insistent, making your panties soak through.

“med student, right? heard about you. i'm sure you’re all brains. but those thoughts in your head? not so innocent, sweetheart.”

it's like he's in your head because it's true. i mean, all you could think about was riding his face, his tongue dragging up and down your soaked cunt. just wondering if that cocky mouth was good for something else other than speaking.

“wh-what do you—” you start, breathless, but his lips hit your neck, kissing wet and sloppy, tongue tracing your pulse point. his hands slide up your sides, thumbs brushing the edge of your dress, teasing the bare skin there. you grind back harder, pussy throbbing, craving more already. “well shit, you don’t waste time.”

“never do,” he murmurs, teeth grazing your skin—sharp, too sharp. not so plastic feeling. then he bites, fangs sinking into your neck, piercing you deep. the pain hits you, hot blood moving fast, a trickle warm down your collarbone.

“shit—what the fuck!” it hurts like hell, pulsing sharp, but his mouth sucks greedy, tongue lapping hungry, pulling blood with a low growl that vibrates against you. your knees buckle, but pleasure twists in, a weird high making your clit throb despite the sting.

you spin quick, heart pounding wild, staring at him—blood smears his lips glossy red, dripping down his chin, staining his shirt. his eyes glow feral blue, pupils blown wide. “those fangs…are they’re real? wh-what the fuck—”

before you can run, his gaze locks on yours, intense, like he’s drilling into your soul. voice drops low, heavy with power that hits your brain like a drug. “don’t run. don’t scream.”

your body freezes, legs locked, mouth clamped shut, but your mind races. weirdly, though, you don’t want to bolt—the bite’s throbbing good now, endorphins flooding, pussy clenching empty, needy.

“okay,” you whisper, voice robotic from his compulsion, but part of you means it, drawn to the danger, the heat.

he licks his lips, smirking bloody, grabbing your hand—big, cold, strong. “good girl. come with me.” his tone turns sweet, almost gentle, leading you through the sweaty crowd, up creaky stairs past couples making out in dark corners, moans and giggles echoing. your pulse hammers, but you follow, his thumb stroking your knuckles, sparking heat that pools low in your belly, thighs slick already.

his room’s at the end of the hall, massive and dark, four-poster bed draped in black silk, candles flickering shadows on walls lined with old books and weird trinkets—skulls, vials, shit that looks straight out of a horror movie. he locks the door with a heavy click, turning to you, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, casual as anything.

“sorry, sweets,” he chuckles, leaning against the door, cape falling off one shoulder. “got carried away there.”

you swallow hard, staring at his skin—pale, glittering, veins faintly blue under the surface, like he’s carved from marble. thoughts run rampant in your mind—that’s why he's so…pretty? like that guy, what's his name? edwin? ed-whatever. but holy shit, are vampires are real? here, in this town? that explains the blood missing from the blodd bank. it's not a joke or maybe, he's just a fuckin' sicko? bro, why am i even here? but wait, he's like kinda hot, i should just let him hit, it's been so long—

he tilts his head, raising an eyebrow as you stand there, just listening to your thoughts go a hundred miles per hour. he sighs and steps closer, crowding your space. you step back slowly and he follows.

“turned in 1864, middle of the civil war. been through high school, college—fuck, dozens of times,” his voice silences your thoughts, dropping that bomb on you like it's nothing. “it's crazy, i know. vampires are real. blah blah blah, boooring.”

he leans in even closer and his nose flares, sniffing the air near your hair, eyes darkening with something hungry. “but we should probably skip the whole history lesson, but yeah, i’m a vampire. i can hear those thoughts in that pretty little head of yours—those dirty ones just begging for someone to touch you. can hear your heartbeat too, pounding like a drum.”

with a low chuckle, he circles you like you're prey and presses closer, erection grinding against your hip—huge, throbbing through his pants. “and…i can smell how wet you are too. tell me—when’s the last time you got fucked right?”

your face burns, you step back till the backs of your knees hit his alaskan king bed. you shift where you stand, unable to look up at him. he looks you up and down, eyes flicking to the open puncture wound on your neck, then your nipples that are tight against your dress, seeing how your body is just betraying you.

the angel on your shoulder says run, but that little devil is winning, plush thighs pressing together.

he cups your chin, bringing you to meet his gaze once more. his eyes dilate a bit before he speaks again, “i said, tell me when was the last time you had a good fuck, sweetheart.”

“f-freshman year…summer, he didn't even make me cum,” you feel so compelled to be brutally honest. what the fuck? “need it bad, satoru. d-do you…do this a lot? like um, bite people and stuff.”

“usually.” he says with a sigh. “suck, fuck, kill,” he says, cocky and grinning, shrugging like it’s whatever. “pretty things don’t last long. but you—fuck, you’re different. that blood of yours got me fucked up, tastes so…good.” he brushes your hair back, lips brushing your neck, licking the bead of blood that leaked out. “you said you need it, go on, baby. tell me what you need.”

you bit your lip as he nips your neck, “y-you, ne-need you, toru. fuck me, bite me...i don't care.”

he laughs, breath ghosting your sensitive skin. “greedy girl, i like it,” he pulls back to look you in the eyes, his blue eyes practically digging into your soul. “but you better tell me if you want me to stop, i may be a monster but i'm not a total dick, you know.” he says with a pretty smile, eyes crinkling at the corners. he looks soft like this. too soft for someone who was about to rearrange your guts.

nonetheless, you let out a shaky chuckle with a nod. and with that, his lips crash to yours, tongue kissing you deep and dirty, pushing into your mouth like he owns it. he tastes like copper and sin, fangs grazing your lip careful not to cut, hands ripping your dress open—buttons pop, wings fall, pretty lace bra exposed. “gonna take my time with you. make you feel every second.”

he pushes you onto the bed, silk sheets cool against your skin, crawling over you like a predator.

“spread those legs, pretty girl,” he orders, voice dripping with lust. you do, skirt hiking up, panties soaked and sticking to your folds. he kneels between your thighs, nose burying in the wet fabric, inhaling deep.

“fuck, baby…your pussy smells so sweet. drippin' f'me, just begging for my tongue, isn't that right?” he drags a finger down the middle of your soaked folds and you whimper, nodding. his fingers hook your panties, tearing them off to leave your cunt bare, your slick making your pussy glisten, clit swollen and pulsing under his stare.

“please, satoru,” you whimper, hips bucking, desperate for touch. “n-need you.”

“oh, i’m gonna give it to you. don't you worry, sweetheart,” he growls, blowing cold air on your heat, making you shiver. his tongue flicks out—long—lapping a slow stripe up your slit, tasting your juices with a low moan, eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“mmmph, tastes so fucking good—like fuckin' candy.” his mouth dives in, sloppy. the sound absolutely graphic, sucking your clit hard, tongue circling tight. his fangs scrape your soft thighs just enough to sting as his fingers spread your lips wide, before two of his long fingers thrust into your hole, fucking into you wet and deep, squelching loud in the quiet room.

he pulls back, nipping your thigh enough to draw blood. “hear that, pretty girl? your cunt’s singing for toru, huh?.”

you moan loud, hands fisting his white hair, pulling him in so you can grind against his face. “fuck—yes, f-feels so good, w-want more, toru!”

he obliges, nose nudging your clit while his fingers fuck into your soppy cunt harder, adding another—curling up to hit that spot inside, pumping slow then fast, juices coating his chin shiny. the heat in your belly builds slow, every lick and thrust dragging it out, your thighs shaking, toes curling.

he pulls back right as you’re about to cum, smirking up, face slick with your wetness. “not yet, baby. want you begging me for more.”

he bites your thigh—fangs sinking into soft flesh near your pussy, deep enough to draw blood, sucking hard as pain and pleasure explode together. “so sweet and needy.” the blood trickles down your inner thigh—warm, mixing with your juices, his tongue lapping at both, obscene and hot, cleaning the wound then diving back to your cunt, mixing flavors in a way that’s fucking filthy.

“shit—m-my god, feels so good,” you gasp when he leaves another bite on the other thigh, purple marks blooming, his strength pinning .your legs wide open.

he edges you twice more, tongue and fingers relentless as he teases you. “goddamn, she's squeezing my fingers so tight, you're that desperate for my dick, huh? gonna cum soon, sweetheart? come on, use your words.”

“yes—please, let me,” you beg, voice breaking.

he finally lets you crash, “cum for me then, go on, make a mess, pretty girl, all over my face.”

your orgasm rips through, your body arching off the bed, squirting on his tongue as he drinks it down, moaning low. “gooood fucking girl.”

panting, he strips slow—shirt off, revealing abs carved and glittering, pale skin catching candlelight, his skin's so glittery and—

his pants drop, cock springing free—massive, veined, pale shaft with a red tip leaking precum like a faucet. you gulp.

“wanna see your face when i stretch you.” he climbs over, rubbing the fat head through your folds, teasing your entrance slick and slow. “raw, right? need that cock deep, don't ya, baby?”

“fuck yes, please—r-raw,” you nod, pulling him closer, legs wrapping his waist.

he smiles at that, “doesn't matter anyways, vampires can't procre—” his own words are cut off with his moan and yours as he pushes in slow—inch by thick inch, stretching you open, burning full, every vein dragging against your walls.

“h-holy sh-shit, y're so big—fuck, toru.” you gasp, gripping his forearms.

“tight little pussy— she's sucking me in,” he lets out a half chuckle, half groan, bottoming out, balls pressed tight against your ass. he stills, letting you adjust, then thrusts deep, hips grinding, his fluffy patch of white hair at the base catching your clit perfectly as his cockhead kisses your cervix with every snap.

“feel that? feel how deep i am, sweetheart?” he growls, putting a hand over the bulge in your stomach.

you whine as he grabs your hand, putting it over your stomach. it's obsene the way he's filling you.

“ye-yeah! s-so deep, fucking me so good, satoru!”

then his hands pin yours above your head, fingers laced as he kisses you hard—his mouth tasting like blood and cum.

his head dips into the crook of your neck, sucking in time with his thrusts. “blood’s so much sweeter—warmer when you’re getting fucked.”

he releases your hands, gripping your waist now. you moan, nails clawing his back—skin healing but he groans anyway, liking the effort.

“harder—b-bite me more.” you moan, head lolling to the side to give him better access.

he does, fangs sinking deeper, blood pooling warm as he drinks, thrusts picking up, balls slapping wet and loud. the bed creaks, headboard banging, your pussy creaming around him, frothy and slick.

he flips you suddenly—super speed making him blur—now you’re on top, straddling. “ride me, sweets—milk my dick with that tight little cunt, yeah?” he slaps your ass and you yelp, letting out a shaky giggle.

you lift yourself just enough to line him up, then sink down with a moan—the stretch still feels just as good as the first time. once he’s fully seated inside you, your ass sticks to his hips from how hot and slick your bodies are. his hands find your waist, guiding you into a slow grind, each roll of your hips making him hit deep, right where you need him.

“grind, baby…yeeah, just like that—fuuuck,” you see him bite his lip, his mouth parting in a gasp, his pretty blues blown and filled with lust.

and that's your cue to bounce faster, making your tits jiggle. he wraps his arms around your waist and leans in, fangs grazing your nipples, biting one gently, still enough to draw small beads of blood. he licks them clean with a growl. it's all so scandalous, your sweat mixing with his cool skin, his cock dragging against your walls deliciously. his stamina is endless, hips bucking up to meet your thrusts, the thick head tap! tap! tapping! against your cervix, making your body shiver with pleasure. you cum again, velvety walls clenching down around him hard, his cock pulsing but holding back.

“n-not done,” he says, flipping you onto your back again, putting your legs over his shoulders. he practically folds you in half, knees to your chest. “gonna cum real fuckin' deep—fill you up.”

“pl-please! satoru, want you to cum inside me so bad,” you whimper, gripping the sheets so hard the tips of your fingers turn white.

his thrusts turn brutal but loving, for some reason? passionate almost. piledriving into you as his thick cock throbs inside you as he cums—ropes of warm, cum flooding your womb, overflowing, spilling out around his cock and down your thighs, messy and wet as he cries out your name.

he stays inside, half hard but not moving, holding you close, kissing you softly now. “christ, you’re something else,” he chuckles dark, cock twitching like he’s ready again. “not killing you tonight. too good of a fuck, how about round two, hmm?”

you nod, catching your breath, body humming with pleasure. but then—someone's banging on the door. “yo, gojo! you in there? suguru's lookin' for the o-neg” it’s toji, you think, captain of the football team, his voice gruff and pissed.

satoru groans, pulling out slow, cum dripping from your pussy onto the sheets. “fuckin’ timing,” he mutters, grabbing his pants, not bothering with a shirt. “stay here, sweets. don’t move. we’re not done, kay.”

he speeds to the door, blurring fast, cracking it open. “what's up? kinda busy here man.”

toji’s voice is low, annoyed. “suguru's pissed. said you drank his stash of o-neg.”

he drags a hand over his face, groaning.

“yeah yeah, i did. fuck, that fuckin' phlebotomist chick said she'd send a new supply by wed— ” just then, satoru’s eyes flick to you, then back to toji with a smirk. “actually, you know what. tell him i've got some right here.”

© j3llyc4kes

:3 please check out my other works! here’s the master list! <3

it was an awful feeling, this suffocating terror. thinking back, you weren’t even sure why you’d taken this job. what could have possibly screamed “this’ll be a great idea” on the application form?

not the money. definitely not the money, because you were only getting paid minimum wage—less, even, after taxes. maybe it was something to do with the lack of required interaction? no clients to deal with? that had been a serious plus. but, apparently, the pros didn’t quite outweigh the cons.

it was an abandoned pizzeria, for fuck’s sake. the last thing it should have was people. and yet, here you were, inching closer to a premature death with every waking moment. this was hell. you were stuck, with absolutely no way out.

your breathing was shallow, ragged. you squeezed your eyes shut for one desperate second. the second you saw a blur of movement from behind the corner, you swung the crowbar as hard as you could. unfortunately, you went a little overboard, ending up with too much momentum, and lost your footing on the slick floor.

but you didn't hit the ground.

“woah, there. that could’ve been bad.”

soft blue eyes. that was the first thing you registered. they were the color of a perfect, cloudless sky, framed by long, white lashes. looking up from under your lashes, you were greeted with the sight of the tall, white-haired man currently holding you steady. one large hand was on your lower back, preventing you from pitching face-first into the linoleum.

it took you a moment to realize he was the guy you'd been actively trying to avoid. the one who had to be, logically, another danger in this fucked-up place. when you did, you scrambled away, feet catching on the crowbar you’d dropped. you kept your gaze fixed on him, dropping into a half-crouch to grab your weapon.

“you—you’re… stay away,” you warned, though the undeniable falter in your voice wasn't all that intimidating.

he raised his hands in surrender, a small, easy smile on his face. he didn't look like a threat. he looked annoyingly handsome, even in the dim, grimy light of the hallway.

“oh, don’t worry. i’m not looking for a concussion today,” he chuckled, his eyes moving to the bar you clutched. “i’m also not a serial killer,” he clarified, when you didn’t let your guard down.

“bet that’s what they all say,” you mumbled, your grip tightening. but he was tilting his head at you, the blue of his eyes bright and focused, and you had that sudden, inappropriate warm feeling in your stomach.

“why would anybody dream of hurting such a pretty girl like you, huh?”

your cheeks flushed, because you were an idiot and didn’t know any better. “um, i didn’t know anyone else worked here.”

he shrugged, but offered his hand out for you to shake. after a moment, you decided to take it. it was shockingly cold. you flinched, a shiver running down your spine. cerulean eyes twinkling, he opened his mouth.

“me neither. it’s my first day, i’m new here. i’m gojo, by the way. call me satoru, though.”

deciding he seemed friendly enough—or maybe just confusing enough to be less of an immediate threat than the killer robots—you nodded. “okay. satoru,” you hummed, testing it out. in return, you offered him your name, and he repeated it, letting it roll off his tongue in a way that felt entirely too intimate.

for that moment, there was only a silence you didn't dare break. not until the far-away crash of something made you stiffen, taking a small step from its direction. "how about we... not stay here?" you asked, already itching to head back.

you led the way back toward the security room, not quite trusting gojo to walk behind you. he didn't seem to mind, humming some off-key tune as you navigated the maze of stale pizza and dark shadows.

once you got there, your first priority was securing the door. you grabbed the heavy metal latch and pulled.

“hold on a sec,” you muttered, straining. the bolt on the door was rusted and practically welded in place. this place never made anything easy. you had to brace your shoulder against the frame and give a series of hard shoves, muscles clenching in your arms. finally, with a horrible, protesting screech of grinding metal, it slid home.

you let out a loud, relieved exhale, feeling a sheepish giggle bubble up. “man, this place is going to need a tetanus shot if it ever wants to open again.”

gojo leaned against the main desk, crossing his arms over his chest, a grin on his face. he'd let out a small huff of laughter, making you duck your head, and scratch the back of your neck. he looked impossibly relaxed, like he was waiting for a bus and not locked in a deathtrap with a total stranger.

“i promise everything will be okay,” he said, his voice surprisingly soft.

you turned your back to the door, hands on your hips. “oh, yeah? and how could you possibly promise that?” you gestured vaguely around the small, windowless room, indicating the monitors flickering with static and the general sense of low-grade terror hanging in the air.

he just offered a placid half-smile. “call it a hunch.”

somewhat playfully, you rolled your eyes and moved to the small desk, sitting down in the cheap plastic chair. you started flipping through the camera feeds, trying to focus. it wasn't until a few minutes of uneasy quiet later that you spoke up, leaning forward and pointing a finger at one of the screens.

“wait. did you see that? just a flicker.”

gojo moved closer, leaning over your shoulder. you expected to be met with warmth radiating off of him, but there wasn't, which felt completely wrong in this hot, stagnant building. your focus, however, was on the screen.

there was movement—a shadow shifting near the edge of the frame. you peered at the image, trying to place the location. “where the hell is that room? i’ve only been here a couple days, i still don’t have all the layouts memorized.” you explain, half-monologuing.

gojo’s response was quick, automatic, and far too specific.

“it’s backstage. behind the animatronics on the main stage.”

you froze.

you turned your head up so fast your neck cracked. your eyes, wide and suddenly suspicious, met his. you didn't know how he could possibly know that. you’d only just gotten a vague mental map of the building. that room wasn’t obvious; it was a maintenance closet tucked away in a low-traffic area.

you leaned back, away from him, the question hanging heavy in the air. “how do you know that?”

he didn't answer immediately. for the first time in your whole interaction, his composure seemed to falter. the easy smile dropped, replaced by a flicker of something unreadable, like a mask slipping.

“i’ve been around for a while,” gojo claimed, a bit too quickly, a bit too dismissively.

“but you said it was your first day on the job,” you said, your voice low and laced with dawning confusion. “that you were new here.”

he tried to cover it up, that infuriatingly charming smile clicking back into place, but now you were too suspicious to buy it. you could see the faint tension in his jaw.

softly, your breath trembling, you asked: “who exactly are you?”

your eyes darted towards the metal door you’d just locked. it was across the room, and you would have to unlock it, and that would take a minute you probably didn’t have. you stood up abruptly, taking steps away from the desk and away from him.

he followed, slowly, effortlessly, closing the distance. you took one last backward step, and the hard, cold plaster of the wall met your back. you were trapped.

“already told you, sweetheart,” he murmured, the sound of your name now completely stripped of its initial friendliness. he moved impossibly fast—faster than any human should—his arms shooting out to cage you against the wall. his large hands braced against the rough plaster on either side of your head, surrounding you. “satoru. satoru gojo.”

you were trapped. his chest was close, but not touching, leaving you with just enough space to breathe and register the sheer, overwhelming size of him.

those soft blue eyes, which had held an easy smile minutes ago, were now dark, focused, and intensely curious. they were taking in the fear swimming in your own, and you knew, with a sick certainty, that he saw it not as a deterrent, but as an excellent appetizer.

“oh, my god, please let me go,” you whispered, your hands immediately pressing against his solid chest, a futile attempt to push away. the muscle underneath his work shirt felt unnaturally dense.

he didn't move an inch, but his lips curved into a slow, knowing smile that didn't reach his eyes. “such a shame to waste that trembling little body on a lie.”

he dipped his head, and you felt his breath, cold and alien, on your neck. then, his tongue dragged a wet, deliberate line up your skin, sending a violent shiver down your spine. your breath hitched, and you sucked in a sharp, involuntary gasp.

“why would i do that, anyway? i’ve finally got you all to myself,” his voice was hoarse, a low rumble from deep in his ribs. “and you taste exactly like i thought you would. sweet, and terrified.”

his hips bumped lightly against yours, and you felt the undeniable, urgent press of his thick cock through the thin material of his khakis and your own. the contact, coupled with the realization of what was about to happen—what you were about to let happen—sent a spike of heat low in your belly.

“i—i want to leave,” you managed, your voice pathetically small.

gojo's’s gaze dropped, taking in your chest heaving against your work shirt, the way your thighs had instinctively pressed together. he could feel the small, tell-tale twitch of your body against his hip.

“you want to leave?” gojo questioned, the skepticism thick in his tone. “then why are you bracing for me?” he didn't wait for an answer. his cold fingers, much too long and impossibly strong, ghosted over the hem of your work shirt, finding the edge of your khakis.

before you could react, his thumb hooked under the waistband and yanked, effortlessly tearing the seam down the side of your pants. the sound of the rip was horribly loud in the small room.

“if you wanted to leave, you’d be fighting harder,” he drew out, pushing the suddenly shredded fabric aside. “if you wanted to leave, that pretty little mouth wouldn’t be so desperate for me to shut it.”

he didn't give you a chance to form a protest. his mouth slammed onto yours, hard and demanding. he tilted your head roughly, forcing your lips apart, and his tongue immediately dove deep, hot and intrusive.

he tasted like something metallic, something not quite human, which only intensified the frantic need building inside you.

you were kissing him back. your hands, which had been pushing, were now clutching at his shirt, fingers digging into the soft cotton of his work uniform.

when gojo finally pulled back, his lips were slick, and he looked entirely unfazed. you, however, were panting, a thin string of saliva connecting your mouths.

“see?” he said, his blue eyes gleaming with triumph. “always a good girl.”

one of his massive hands dropped from the wall and slid down your torso. it was cold enough to shock you, yet you found yourself leaning into the touch. he shoved the torn khakis down to your knees, leaving you exposed in a cheap, wet pair of cotton panties.

“i didn’t even ask what you wear under that pathetic uniform,” he said, his voice dropping to a low, intimate murmur.

gojo hooked two fingers under the thin cotton of your underwear and pulled, ripping them free with a second, sharp tear. the cool air of the security room hit your suddenly exposed skin, making you shiver again.

“still cold?” he asked, a knowing look in his eyes.

then, his fingers were there.

he didn't warm you up. he didn't wait for permission. he just slammed three freezing fingers, slicked with your own moisture, deep inside you.

you cried out, a loud, sharp gasp that was immediately swallowed by the wall of his chest as he leaned his full weight onto you.

“ah, good. wet already,” he sighed, sounding pleased by the easy access. “told you you were waiting for me.”

his thumb started grinding deliberately on your clit, simultaneously with the forced, forceful thrust of his fingers. he was hitting something deep and sensitive, and the sensation was too much, too fast, too cold, too intensely good.

“stop,” you gasped, but you were bucking your hips forward, instinctively seeking the aggressive friction he was providing. the wall dug into your back, and you didn’t care.

“i don’t think you mean that,” he whispered, his mouth near your ear, his voice rougher now. he shifted his hips, pinning yours between his thigh and the wall, effectively taking complete control of your lower body.

he wasn’t slowing down. his fingers were pumping in and out, the movements fast and merciless, while his thumb worked your clit into a burning, agonizing pleasure. you were making small, desperate, whimpering sounds you barely recognized. you were just liquefying under his touch.

you felt your body coil, the tension pulling tight in your core. you were seconds away, and gojo was watching your face, charting your descent. he didn’t ease up, only driving his thumb harder.

the orgasm hit you like a violent electric shock, a full-body tremor that shook you against the wall. your legs gave out, and you would have slid to the floor if gojo hadn't hooked an arm under your knees and lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. your hands instinctively flew up to cling to his shoulders, fingernails digging into his uniform.

you were panting, slick with sweat and your own heat, your pussy still spasming against his harsh, wet fingers. he finally pulled them out, and the loss of pressure made you whine, a pathetic sound you instantly regretted.

“miss them already?” he teased, his breath coming in shallow gasps, a flush creeping high on his pale cheeks. he was undeniably aroused now, his body finally radiating a heat that was entirely his own.

he reached up and tore the last of your remaining clothing—your work shirt—clean off your body. he tossed it aside with a careless flick of his wrist.

“looks better this way,” gojo said, his eyes darkening as they devoured your exposed skin.

you were weak, vulnerable, and completely spent, but your pussy was already throbbing, demanding the next stage.

“satoru,” you choked out, saying his name not as a warning, but as a plea, already submitting to the obvious.

“yeah, i know,” he rumbled. he reached down and guided his pulsing, thick cock against your slick opening. you were still leaking from your first orgasm, and the size of him was daunting. he felt big against you, a promise of brutal fullness.

“you’re going to be so tight, aren’t you? almost like you’ve never been filled this completely before.”

he wasn’t asking. he was stating a fact.

gojo took hold of your hips with his cold hands and gave one hard, deliberate thrust.

you screamed into his mouth, but he only pressed deeper, forcing the sound back into your throat.

gojo was huge. he filled you completely, stretching you painfully and perfectly. you couldn’t hold back the tears that sprang to your eyes, a mix of pure pain and white-hot pleasure. he felt like a solid, burning rod, bottoming out so deep you felt the pressure in your core.

“don’t scream too loud, honey,” he grunted, the sound a low warning mixed with desire. “we don’t want the furry little friends to find us.”

he didn’t wait for you to adjust. he started moving, his hips slamming against your ass, rocking you back and forth against the wall. it was a rhythm of pure, unadulterated need—fast, merciless, and deep.

“fuck,” you cried, your voice hoarse. you were clinging to him for dear life, your arms around his neck, your legs locked tight around his waist. every thrust felt like a claim, a confirmation that you belonged to him now, in this dark, disgusting place.

he reached up and grabbed the back of your head, pulling your mouth to his ear. “say my name,” gojo demanded, his voice strained.

“satoru! god, satoru!”

he was hitting a spot deeper and higher than anything you’d ever felt, an insistent pressure that was turning your mind to mush. the initial pain was long gone, replaced by a desperate, building heat. you could feel the muscles in your core clenching around him, trying to hold him in place.

“you like this, don’t you?” gojo grunted, his breath hot against your ear. “being taken. you should’ve quit this pathetic job sooner, baby. but i’m glad you didn’t.”

you couldn’t form a coherent answer. all you could manage were choked moans and desperate gasps for air. your hips were moving against his own, begging for more, faster, harder.

he pulled back almost completely, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before ramming back in with a force that made your entire body jump.

the second orgasm was a wildfire. it started deep inside, sparked by the intensity of his thrust, and spread outwards, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. your grip on his shoulders went slack as your mind went blank, focused only on the violent, perfect filling inside you.

satoru let out a guttural groan, a sound that wasn't quite human, and his movements hitched. he pressed you harder against the wall, burying himself in you as deep as he could go.

“yours,” he choked out, his body tightening. he pumped a few more hard, fast thrusts before he came. or, what you expected to be that, because... there wasn't any release of sticky white.

gojo collapsed his head onto your shoulder, breathing heavily. his massive, heavy body was still pressing you against the wall, his thick cock still buried and twitching inside you.

for a long moment, the only sound was the ragged gasping of your breath, the wet suction of your bodies, and the distant, maddening drip of the leaky pipe in the hallway.

he finally pulled back, slowly, regretfully, and set you back down on your trembling feet. the torn remnants of your khakis fell to the floor, leaving you standing naked in the grime.

gojo didn’t look away. he pulled his hand from his pocket and tossed something small and metallic onto the desk: a security keycard.

“you don’t work here anymore,” he said, his voice low and firm. “and you don’t need the crowbar.”

he stepped toward the heavy metal door, effortlessly pulling back the screeching, rusted bolt you’d fought with minutes ago. he paused, looking back at you, "wipe that sad little look off your face."

"i'll find you again," gojo winked, a soft crinkle of his eye.

you didn't need to know him well, to know he was telling the truth.

Off in some corner of the room there were these deep invoking violet eyes that bored into your frame, the mysterious haze in them standing out amongst the crowd of dancing people that surrounded you. 

Then, on the opposite side of said room, there were eyes of pure azure blue that felt as though they were piercing into every inch of you—especially as you make brief eye contact with them, feeling a shiver of cold chills slipping down your spine.

Every sway of your body was being watched and studied like a hawk in a way that differed from how everyone else let their eyes occasionally stark down your figure. Something about these two gazes felt unmoving, like no matter which way you faced to dance, one of those sets were noticeable off in the distance.

And even when they weren’t noticeable, you could feel them nonetheless.

Luckily for you, your drunken mind simply blames the alcohol you’d drank as to why two random guys looking at you from across the room seemed to stand out a bit more than anyone else’s. Especially when you take into consideration both men had looks that just naturally stood out from everyone else! It was absolutely nothing to worry about—

“Hey, are you alright?” Grabs your attention as you whirl your head around to meet the eyes of Utahime, her cheeks flushed from drinking just as heavily as you’d been if not more.

You nod, not fully processing her words yet as your lashes flutter and then the words leave you. “Yeah, m’fine, why?” You manage out, though you’re sure your words come out a lot more slurred together than intended.

Utahime giggles before placing a hand on your arm, caressing the skin there just barely as a sweet smile spreads across her rosy-glossed lips. “I’m gonna go talk to Shoko for a sec’,” She informs you, “Didn’t wanna leave you without sayin’ anything so-,” She lets out a little hiccup, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Her hand slips downwards along your arm as she watches your expression, smiling at the way she can see you visibly processing her words again. Utahime’s hand soon meets yours and she gives it a soft squeeze.

That seems to lull you into vocalizing a reply instead of just staring at her. Shaking your head a bit—as if that would help to clear the weight of alcohol running through you right now, “Uhuh, I told you m’fineee. Tell Shoko I say hii,” You tell her, flashing a reassuring smile afterwards.

You feel the pad of her thumb slide against your wrist in small mindless little circles before she hums, giving you nothing more than a nod in response before leaving your side.

Left on the dance floor, you’re quick to end up dancing against stranger after stranger. You got a name or two here and there, along with some touches against your waist and even your hips but you really can’t remember from who or even why you allowed it all. 

At some point, you end up dancing in between two guys. Between them, you remember feeling overwhelmingly hot all over. The man in front of you had familiar blue eyes that made your heart skip a beat every time your own crossed over them. And the male behind you was nearly fighting for your attention back on him.

You remember angling your head back and being met with the most devastatingly hungry set of purple irises ever—also equally as familiar as the first guy.

In the back of your mind, you felt like you knew these two men but in the moment you couldn’t think straight at all.

All you knew was that Mr. Purple Eyes was really good with his hands, running them all up and down your hips and tugging your ass back against his crotch.

Whereas alternatively, there was Mr. Blue Eyes who’d wrap his arm around your waist and press himself closer just to keep you sandwiched between the two of them. Now, this part you actually think your brain made up but, there was something very hard poking at both your ass and your front.

Maybe you were delusional but you swore there were two cocks rubbing against y—

The sound of your name being called is what snaps you out of your trance and your eyes lazily land over on the, seemingly fuming, Utahime. 

The white-haired man is the first one to get shoved off of you and you stumble to the side at the impact of it all.

“Keep your grimy paws off of her, Satoru.” She breathes out before quickly turning to you and practically snatching you away from the raven behind you. Sending him a glare, “Same to you, Suguru. Ugh.”

It suddenly clicks for you. That’s why they looked familiar, because you knew them! Duh. They were both Shoko’s friends!!

Drunkenly, your hands end up meeting Utahime’s face and you squeeze her cheeks in your palms as if to rid the disgust and annoyance written all over her features. “‘Himee, s’okay, we were just dancin’,” You giggle with the most innocent expression.

Her annoyance melts away at the sound of your voice and she moves her hands to your wrists, carefully prying your hands away from her face. “I know, I know,” She says all softly before sending Gojo another glare. “I just don’t think certain people deserve your attention like that—especially not him.” She spits out.

Gojo lets out an amused huff before throwing his hands up in defeat, “Relaaax, Utahime. You’re acting like friends can’t dance together now.”

Her glare grows impossibly colder with the man, “The two of you are not friends.”

“Oh yeah?” Geto suddenly purrs, earning your best friend’s attention and making her eyes go wide as she watches him snake his arms around you to pull you back into a hug. “Then what do you call us, hm?”

“Manipulative whores who’re trying to take advantage of my friend,” She grumps, reaching forward and tugging you right out of that hug. To which you allow yourself to fall right into her arms.

Geto scoffs, brows meeting center now as a vein peeks out against his jawline, “Take advantage? She’s a grown woman, she can handle herself just fine. Plus, we were just dancing.”

Utahime scoffs, “Liar—“

“He’s right ‘n you know it,” Gojo chimes in, “I watched-, er, happened to see her ward off multiple creeps within the past few minutes. If she didn’t want us to dance with her, she would’ve sent us off as well.” He points out. 

Which was true, you’d cycled through plenty of people who tried dancing with you within the time Utahime had left your side. Pushing off the too touchy, shaking your head at the too eager to get you to go upstairs with them, and eventually ending up with Gojo and Geto who you just felt comfortable against.

Your best friend, still annoyed, finds herself at a slight loss of words. She’s always hated Gojo and seeing him anywhere near you made her unexplainably frustrated. Then there was Geto who was trouble in human form, breaking girl’s hearts left and right for all she knew based on the things Shoko had told her. 

Frowning, “That’s not—“

“‘Himeee,” You’re finally budding in again, slumping your forehead onto her shoulder, “My head’s startin’ to hurt, I think m’gonna head back home now…”

“Ah, o-okay,” She stammers quickly, her entire demeanor changing in an instant as she redirects all her attention onto you, “Do you want me to-“

You’re shaking your head already before pulling away from her, “Nope, I can-, mh, I can get there jus’ fine on my own.”

Now, normally Utahime would be the one to escort you home safely—she refused to ever get you an Uber or even a taxi home because she didn’t trust any of them with an overly drunk you. But, she was too drunk to drive tonight or even think completely straight so..

Utahime nods, “Alright but, text me as soon as you get home, okay?”

You give her a thumbs-up and she smiles at you.

Luckily, you lived just down the street from the party you guys were attending so she really had nothing to worry about. Or so she told her intoxicated self, anyway.

As you begin wobbling away from her, bumping into a few people while you make your way towards what you fuzzily remember to be the exit, Utahime’s got her eyes on you the entire time—at least making sure you manage out the front door. Once you do, she turns to give Gojo and Geto another scolding only to find that they’ve both vanished.

She blinks a few times as she glances around, realizing that they’ve almost quite literally disappeared into thin air. Perhaps her mild curses from before managed to scare them away for the night. Good riddance.

Now, after this party everything around you starts to get… strange.

——

You live alone, courtesy to your parents who left the house to you almost as soon as you turned eighteen and then moved out of town completely. That was years ago but, because of that there are certain things in your home that just never change.

You have your own routines and small things you do and yet, after only a few weeks, you begin to notice odd things.

For example, your hygiene products like your body wash and shampoo. You’ve always left them in a specific corner of your tub for as long as you remember but there was one day when you went to shower that you noticed some of the items there had been left on the opposite side.

Obviously this isn’t a world-shattering difference but, it was something that left you humming in thought. Perhaps you were in a rush during your last shower and moved it? Even though you’ve never done that before and happened to be quite particular about your things…

Weird.

The next thing you picked up on were weird strands of hair in certain places like your bedroom and your living room. On your couch you once find this long strand of silky black hair that doesn’t exactly match yours. 

At first you thought that maybe it could’ve been Utahime’s because she’s the only person with dark colored hair that frequents your house nowadays but, you weren’t sure.

And in your bedroom, you found a shorter strand of white hair on your pillow one time and then another strand of the same color in your closet. Maybe Utahime had been hanging around Shoko and your friends and things transferred over…? You did have Shoko herself over at one point but, you weren’t sure if that was it.

Weird.

The thing that stood out to you the most though? Your favorite pairs of panties started to go missing one by one along with your underwear drawer being left slightly ajar some days.

Now, there were lots of times you left your house in a hurry to make it to class on time but that was one thing you really don’t feel like you were responsible for. You tried to also consider the fact that your washer and dryer has a tendency to eat up your socks and occasionally small clothing items but, still.

The panties you usually wore most often and definitely felt most confident and comfortable in just.. disappeared one day. And not just one but two of them at that.

You searched your house high and low but you really could never find them.

Weird.

There were also some other things like you finding your laptop in a different room than you remember leaving it or your shorts popping up in the crack of your living room couch instead of your bedroom but, those were things you shrugged off and assumed you were just getting more careless as the days went on.

After all, classes were getting increasingly difficult and you were stressed between that and work, so maybe all of those little homely mishaps were because of your busying life.

Little did you know…

——

It was on days like today where you would leave your house late-afternoon to head over to Utahime’s and spend more of your evening with her that one of the two people responsible for all those mysteries would act.

See, the funny thing about having two of the most obsessive people in town stalking you is that each of them are so entrapped in you that they don’t even acknowledge or notice the other.

Until today that is.

Geto watches your car drive off before he makes his way into your house via a spare copy of your key he’d oh-so-politely made for himself. Walking around your place as if it were his second home and wondering what it is he should do today while you’re out.

Some days he chooses to follow you around town and watch how you spend your time but after a few weeks of meticulously learning your routine, he hadn’t felt the need to do that anymore. Especially since he already knew where you were going.

He and Utahime didn’t talk much but he definitely started to care less for her as time went on. She took up most of your days and it was hard to ever catch you alone—not to do anything, of course, but just to watch you from afar. Yet, you were always with her and it was annoying as fuck.

How is he supposed to know what you do in your free time if you never have any??

Rolling his eyes at the thought, Geto makes his way upstairs in search of your bedroom. He knows the way by now but he’s stopping by your bathroom quickly just to go and smell one of your perfumes—eyes fluttering to the back of his skull at the scent.

Everything about you really was perfect. So perfect that Geto swore he planned to stop this whole stalker thing someday and properly ask you out. Y’know, after learning everything there is to know about you and making himself into the perfect embodiment of the kind of man you hope for.

Today, he was here to return a pair of your panties he’d stolen, jerked off with more times than he can count, and washed thoroughly after the fact. One of his hands remained taut in his pockets as he rubbed his thick thumb over the black fabric and tried not to get worked up all over again.

He knew these were your favorite since he’d literally counted the number of times you’d washed and worn this pair instead of any others. Smiling to himself as he thinks about it, Geto pushes open your bedroom door and then the sight he’s met with leaves him frozen.

Gojo’s nose-deep in one of your pillows right now, soaking in every bit of your smell that he can before he realizes his best friend just walked in. Fumbling to drop the item in his hands and acting as though he wasn’t doing anything, Gojo then clears his throat obnoxiously loud and moves to scratch the back of his neck.

“What uh, what’re you doing here?” He asks all confusedly, as if the same question doesn’t apply to him as well.

Geto cocks a brow and he’s surprisingly casual about this, taking a step into your bedroom and softly pushing the door shut with his foot before turning toward your drawers, “I came to return something. What are you doing here, aside from sniffing pillows and dryhumping a clueless woman’s bedsheets, that is.”

Gojo watches his friend stroll over to your drawer and open in, taking a small black fabric he’d recognize anywhere out of his pocket before ‘discreetly’ returning them back to their rightful place. “Huh.” Gojo tuts, “What were you doing with those panties, Suguru? A-And I wasn’t dryhumping her sheets!” He stammers out afterwards.

Rummaging through the other fabrics in your drawer as if it were second nature, Geto finds himself cracking a little smirk, “Returning them, obviously.” He answers slyly as he plucks another pair that’s a deep purple shade and holds it up in the air to contemplate something. “She… let me borrow them,” He lies.

To which Gojo’s head cocks back immediately and the scoff that comes flying past his lips is almost comedic, “You can barely hold eye contact with the woman, let alone hold an actual conversation with her long enough for you two to have a significant relationship in which she’d let you ‘borrow’ her favorite pair of panties.”

“I’d ask how you know they’re her favorite but,” Geto sends a sideways glance back at his friend and there’s something cocky written all over his naturally smug expression as he does so. Then he sizes Gojo up and down, “Given the way you were sniffing that pillow… it doesn’t surprise me that you’re privy to that information.”

“I’m privy to it in the same way you are,” Gojo shoots back, giving Geto a size-up of his own. There was some sort of unspoken competitive tension stirring between the two men now. “Plus, I was gonna go for those but they went missing before I could snatch ‘em up… now I know why.”

He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a softer blue pair of panties and tosses them over to the raven-haired male, watching the way he effortlessly catches it in one hand before slipping both of his hands onto it to feel the fabric.

“I got stuck with those,” Gojo continues, “Not that I’m complaining, of course. They’re cute ‘n match my eyes,” He says matter-of-factly. A smirk similar to Geto’s drags across his face as he eases his way closer to his best friend before placing a hand onto his shoulder and squeezing lightly. Then Gojo leans into his ear just to whisper, “Oh, and they were used when I got them.”

Geto physically reacts to just the mere thought of that. Being able to snatch up a pair of panties fresh off of your body, dripping in your scent, perhaps even dripping in something else, and-

God, he was getting hard at just the thought alone. 

And unfortunately, it was pissing him off. He shrugs Gojo’s hand off of his shoulder rudely and flings the panties back into your drawer before rolling his eyes, “Oh whatever.” Geto scoffs sassily, “Are you implying that you’re a better creep than me or something?”

Gojo throws his hands up as if admitting defeat, “Nono, I’m not a creep at all! A bit of a weirdo? Maybe. A stalker? Perhaps. But I’m not a creep.”

“Listen here Radiohead,” Geto starts up snarkily with a sideways glance toward his friend who mumbles something along the lines of, ‘that’s not even how the lyrics go…’ in between his talking. “I regret to inform you that you’re all of the above.” Geto finishes off with a sigh. He then turns around to face Gojo and the two are eye to eye now. “Now back to my question, Satoru. What are you doing here?”

“I’m not sure you’re really in the position of questioning me at all, Suguru.” Gojo bites back with a smug look on his face. Then he shrugs, “You came to return panties you stole, I came here to do what I always do.”

Cocking a brow, “What, pillow-sniffing?” Geto scoffs in question, stuffing his hands—which still have a new pair of your panties in them—back into his pockets.

Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “No…” The dramatics in his tone make Geto bite back a chuckle at how ridiculous his friend was being, as if he hadn’t already been caught in the act. “Well,” Gojo moves a hand to scratch the back of his neck all nervously, “Okay, maybe, yeah-, b-but before you judge me, you should give it a try! It smells just like her.”

“No shit, she sleeps on the damn thing.” Geto deadpans, violet eyes boring into Gojo’s blue ones.

“Damn, you really are a stalker,” Gojo replies anyway. His habit of shifting the blame onto his friend was truly growing more and more comical by the second, “How do you know she doesn’t sleep on the other side?”

Geto blinks in slow motion before letting out a very long breath of air, “The same way you know, dingus.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever-”

“And I won’t be giving that a try at all, that’s weird.” The raven adds on as he glances over to your bed.

To which Gojo takes offense and scoffs, “No weirder than going through her laptop.”

Geto’s eyes snap back onto Gojo and he quickly sizes him up and down, his face twisting up in mockery, “Says the one who jerks off with her favorite body wash.”

“Like you haven’t done the same with her lotion,” Gojo fires back quickly enough for it to seem like he had the reply ready.

“‘Least I don’t go fishing through her laundry.”

“Yeah because that’s so much better than going through her drawers.”

“Well-”

Before Geto gets to finish that, the sound of a car pulling up outside makes both of their words die off on their tongues as they go completely still. Geto and Gojo stare at one another for a long moment, their breaths catching in their throat at the mere sound. They knew it was you.

Rushing over to your window and practically pushing at one another, the two hurry to get a look just to make sure they’re not going crazy and that you had actually come back home early.

To their everloving surprise, there you were getting out of your vehicle rather quickly and causing alarms to go off in both of their heads. Geto turns away from the window first, shoving at Gojo to get a move on before you make your way inside because maybe they could-

The thought can’t even be concluded before they hear your front door opening and then closing. Holy shit you were moving quickly.

The duo shares one more lingering stare between each other before they both move to the nearest places they can think of. At first, they both head toward your closet to hide in but Gojo trips Geto and gets in there before he can, shutting the door quickly and quietly.

After the past few weeks of stalking you, if there’s one thing Geto’s learned, it’s how to be spookily quieter than normal. Given that, he manages to land on his palms with the faintest thump humanly possible.

A ticked off glare is sent toward the doors of your closet, one of which Gojo could feel even from behind the shut doors. Yet, before Geto could make another attempt at getting into the closet, he heard you making your way up the stairs. Fast as shit, too.

So, he does the only logical thing possible in this situation.

He’s already on the floor and it’s only natural that he lays flat down and then rolls himself over until he’s laying on his back and fully underneath your bed.