Love Said To Soul | Lmh

Love Said To Soul | lmh

❝𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮?❞

↳ When the God of Love is tasked with humiliating a beautiful mortal girl, he finds himself much vexed to discover her immune to his skills. Determined to discover the root of the problem, he takes to mortal form and embarks upon a dastardly ruse that requires his getting close to her. The God of Love thinks he knows all. The God of Love knows nothing.

↳ Lee Know x female reader

↳ Enemies to lovers romance trope. A retelling of the Greek myth Eros and Psyche. College au, angst and conflict, developing romance and yearning, quest and high stakes, Greek mythology and frequent reference to gods/goddesses etc, fantasy and myth meets modern day, mild drug use, smut throughout.

! Explicit content, adult themes, 20.1k, suitable for 18+ readers only !

「Final part of the skz tropes collab w @yoongihan」 「main contents list」 「© April 2024 by jl-micasea-fics」

“Thus, my dearest son, I charge you with this quest.”

Minho knelt reverently before his mother, head bowed low. Rarely did he question her whims or ways, for what the Goddess Aphrodite coveted, the Goddess Aphrodite claimed, and may the Fates help anyone who stood in her way, kin or otherwise.

Still; this all felt too bizarre.

“May I ask why, mother?”

Aphrodite smiled gently, her eyes—an infinite silvery galaxy of lovers’ souls—trained to him. As self-assured as he was, even Minho’s composure wavered under the gaze of the most apocalyptically beautiful of the twelve Olympians.

“It just seems like an awful lot of trouble to go to for a mortal girl,” he hastily added.

“You are correct, dear child. It is awful trouble. Trouble that I would not have you go to if it had not been ordained that this girl’s beauty will inspire a cult of worshippers that will revere her as the most beautiful creature to ever have lived. As more beautiful than even the Goddess of Love herself. They will make to her sacrifices and votive offerings and pray to her as though she is divine. I cannot have that, child. There is a natural order to things, and we must maintain it.”

Minho supposed that was answer enough.

“Relay to me again what you must do,” Aphrodite said.

“I am to go to her bedroom while she sleeps, and take with me a hog.”

“The hairiest and foulest you can find,” Aphrodite added.

“Yes, mother. I am to shoot her with one of my arrows and ensure that the first thing she sees when she awakes is the beast.”

Aphrodite smiled, her golden skin shimmering under the vast, heavenly sun. “She will fall in love with the monster, thus disgracing herself and ensuring that her Fate shall never come to pass. No mortal shall ever worship a pig-lover!” She laughed, melodic and triumphant.

Compassion in his very nature, Minho could not help but feel a sliver of sympathy for the girl that, for all intents and purposes, was innocent. She could no more control the beauty she was born with than her Fate— now it would be a sad and lonely one. She would be reviled by other mortals and mocked by the Gods, and spend her life in misery.

But an order was an order.

“Go now, my son,” Aphrodite commanded. “Take your bow and quiver, and make without delay to the girl.”

“Yes, mother.”

Minho stood, bowed, and from his divine palace retrieved his golden bow and quiver of enchanted arrows. Forged by Hephaestus and blessed by his mother, the arrows could pierce the heart of any mortal or deity with true, unbreakable love.

Such was his onus, his purpose, his charge as Eros.

--

Minho always enjoyed visiting the mortal world.

It was true that his reason for spending much of his time there pertained to the never-ending demands of love’s machinations, but even on the days when he sought to take a small break, he lounged in the warm waterfalls and on the snowy mountains and near the pellucid oceans, marvelling at the luscious spectacles of Mother Gaia— a different sort of ephemeral elegance to that of his heavenly home.

Mortals entertained him endlessly; such funny, flighty creatures. They warred and fucked and loved and killed and worked so hard for ultimately trivial reward. He often wondered what would have become of them, had Prometheus never gifted them fire. They certainly wouldn’t have built up centuries of civilisation and developed what Minho now overlooked from a wisp of cloud: the University of Oxford. So far as he understood it, this was a place where mortals gathered to learn— a little like the Mouseion, which he was admittedly less familiar with than he ought to have been. More importantly than any of that, however: this was where his charge resided.

Securing his bow and stepping off the cloud, he drifted down and over the sprawling campus on plush, white wings. The cool midnight air flowed through his onyx hair; starlight kissed his deep, rich complexion. A peaceful glide to the ground it would have been, had the ghastly pig strapped to his back not squealed for the duration.

Landing softly on the dewy lawn, Minho wriggled his naked toes on the grass and looked around. The building ahead, domed and Victorian in grand architecture, was signposted ‘Goodhart’. Being the dead of night, there was no sign of life from any of the single-paned windows; just as he had hoped. Invisible as he was to mortal eyes, the pig remained very much discernible. Nothing like a floating farm animal to incite panic.

With a short, sharp hop he glided gracefully up and away from the grass to the top floor, three stories up. Through each window he peered into dark rooms in which girls softly slumbered, until he came upon one that wasn’t: she was sat at her desk, illuminated by the amber glow of a tabletop lamp. Before her was spread textbooks and notepads, pencils and post-its, an open laptop and cold mug of coffee. Minho watched for several moments. She scrawled something to a cluttered page, tapped her laptop and scrolled. She dropped her pen and raised her arms, stretching out her spine and shoulders with satisfying cracks. She yawned and checked the time, then groaned: “Oh, god.” Her head fell to the desk with a heavy sigh.

Minho had counted on her being asleep. This was due to take much longer now that she wasn’t. Resigned to a wait of indeterminate length, he perched on the rooftop ledge above her window, pig tucked between his legs as he laid back and gazed up at the stars and constellations that decorated the now cloudless sky. There was Hercules, favourite son of Heracles, raised up to the heavens by the Cloud Gatherer himself in honour of his father’s legendary labours. There was Aries, the ram to whom the most coveted Golden Fleece once belonged. There was Andromeda, the wife of the great hero Perseus, who saved her from an unthinkable fate at the hands of the foul sea-dwelling monster Cetus. And in admiring these constellations and recounting the tales of ancient times gone by, Minho drifted into a contented sleep.

It was warmth on his skin that stirred him to the twitter of birds and chatter of mortals. Opening his eyes and rubbing them of their crust, he—for a moment—forgot entirely where he was. Indeed, it was the sore twinge to his skin that firstly informed him he was on Earth, and secondly, that he had Helios to thank for the sunburn. Immortality does not equal invulnerability. With a mean glare skywards, he clambered to his feet and stretched out his joints, possessively checking his bow, relieved to find it still where it should be.

It was at that moment that a wailing screech pierced the air, most alarmingly offensive to Minho’s sensitive ears. More commotion stirred and drew him closer; he crossed the ivy-laced rooftop of Goodhart House with nimble proficiency, peering down at the lawn where it seemed a dozen or more students had gathered.

“What do we do?!” He heard a girl cry out.

“Kill it!”

“We can’t kill it, idiot. It’s huge.”

“W— Well, just, get rid of it!”

“How do you suggest we do that?”

“Call security! Call someone!”

Intrigued, Minho hopped from the rooftop and fluttered to a nearby oak on whose thick branch he gently perched. From the gathering of girls, a familiar squeal and snort erupted: Minho froze. With a stroke of bewilderment, he looked down between his legs, then back to the lawn.

Shit.

The girls screamed and parted from their tight cluster as a splotchy, hairy hog barrelled towards them, slavering drool that splashed them as it passed. Over the lawn it charged and across the campus to yet more cries of distant fear and panic, until it disappeared entirely from view. Aflutter with confusion and fright, the girls drew back together, as though expecting yet more horrid creatures to spring from the ground. Luckily for them, Minho was fresh out. In fact, he was just considering where he might obtain a second beast when from the Goodhart building lobby, a girl strolled out. Confidence in her stride and an easy smile on her face, she was rushed by the gaggle of girls, every one of them relaying to her with varying degrees of dramatics what had just occurred. Minho watched intently; she laughed and hugged them, offered assurances and validation. By no small feat she managed to calm them, after which she took her leave, jogging across the lawn and towards the path with books bundled in her arms. Minho followed, from treetop to rooftop across campus until she entered where he could not, disappearing from his sight into a grand school building.

His mother had been right, he thought. She was beautiful; that was, for a mortal girl. After all, Minho had indulged with deities and nymphs the beauty (and flexibility) of which mortals could not utter into words, and so yes; she was beautiful, for a mortal girl. Rather astoundingly beautiful, for a mortal girl. But that was neither here nor there. He had a quest to complete, and was now distinctly lacking the beast required to complete it. He would just have to find another and bring it back. If not a hog, then something equally as detestable.

Something that would appease mother.

--

In the small and dark hours, Minho returned once more to Goodhart.

Pleased this time to see that the girl was slumbering soundly, he braced himself on the sill of the window and pushed it carefully. It gave with no resistance, as did all things he impressed upon. He climbed through it and into the girl’s room, and found himself immediately taken with what he caught wind of: the sweet and tantalising scent of honey— a substance that had something of a catnip-like appeal to Gods and deities in all forms. Minho paused, his mouth watering. The room itself was of no remarkable make: he had visited the habitats of mortal girls before, their comforts and wants manifesting in soft things, light things, warm things, pink things.

In his hand the creature he plotted with stirred and unsettled; he opened his palm and hushed the spindly tarantula softly. Besotted, it twitched its mandibles and allowed Minho to place it at the foot of the bedspread, where it waited. With a grace of movement unique to the Goddess of Love’s offspring, Minho drew his bow from his back and prepared an arrow, aiming at the sleeping girl. This was usually his favourite part; the anticipation, the thrill, watching how his efforts panned out in those few and rare seconds after his arrow struck and the love searched for a home. Perhaps that was why his heart hung heavily as he took a deep breath and loosed the arrow; in this, there was to be no thrill. He acted solely in service to his mother, and while other deities would surely press that that was ample reward in itself, something inside him ached.

Ever sure in its path, the arrow struck the girl in her breast, setting upon her a heat that woke her immediately. She gasped and made a sound akin to a moan: Minho stiffened, struck by it. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, her sleep-warm skin and bed hair appealing to him in ways he had erstwhile made fun of mortals for admiring. Groggy but seemingly able to perceive enough, she blinked at the end of her bed; at the patient tarantula that sat there. She shook her head, rubbed her eyes again, grimaced and took another look. The tarantula shimmied its eight legs. Certain that his mission had been a success, Minho could bear to watch no longer; he moved to the open window, braced himself upon the sill.

“How on earth did you get in here?”

He turned back. The girl rose carefully from bed and retrieved the glass of water from her bedside, rushing to the window where he stood. A mere inch from him and yet completely unaware, she tossed the water over the sill, the streaming moonlight briefly bathing her face. Minho swallowed and watched as she grabbed a slip of paper from her desk. With care and precise technique, she slipped the paper under the spider, poised the glass atop it, and trapped it.

“You don’t belong here,” she said softly, moving back to the window; back to Minho. “Here, little one. Go home safely now.”

Stretching across him, she leaned out to a gathering of strong ivy that crawled across the close facia. She released the creature onto it, smiling as it clicked its mandibles and scuttled away.

Several things crossed Minho’s mind as he held his breath and waited for the girl to move away. The first was that something, somewhere, had clearly gone awfully wrong. What just happened was not the work of a woman obsessively in love with a horrible spider, but rather that of a pitying Samaritan. The next thing he considered was perhaps more confounding than his failure: he had broken into a clammy sweat, his heart pounded, his vision swum with her nearness. The God of love loves all, loves unconditionally, loves fairly. He does not fall in love.

Thirdly and finally, he thought the worst of all.

He had failed his mother.

Aphrodite was not to be failed.

--

“What is it that you mean to tell me, exactly?”

Aphrodite sat poised on her regal throne of curved ram’s horns and silk, her infinite beauty radiating beneath her golden skin and through her calm, silvery eyes. Her hair, braided intricately and woven with wildflowers, seemed to throb and glow with the very essence of life and love. Minho knelt before her and summoned his courage.

“I mean to say, mother, that I failed.”

Aphrodite brought her palm to her chin. “I do not understand, dear child.”

“I failed to curse her, mother. It just... It didn’t work.”

“So you said. Therein lies my perplexment. You said your arrow struck her?”

“Yes, mother.”

“And yet she remained unaffected?”

“Yes, mother. She didn’t fall in love at all.”

“You must have missed.”

Minho looked up, about to voice his protest when Aphrodite spoke again, “The arrows of Eros cannot be defied. Whomsoever is struck by them must fall in love with the first creature they then see. That is, and always will be, the way of things.”

“But, mother—”

“You must go back down to Earth. Back to the girl. Make sure your aim is true this time.”

“Mother, it wasn’t my aim that was off, it was something else—”

“Are you suggesting there is a defect in Hephaestus’s weapon?” she asked. “Should we visit your uncle together and put this to him?”

Minho swallowed. “No, mother.”

Aphrodite smiled. “Very well then. It is decided. You shall go back to Earth and do a thorough job of things.”

Minho stood from his kneel, anxiety turning over in him. Whatever help he had sought to gain from his mother clearly wasn’t his to take, and so he would have to figure this one out on his own.

“And, darling?”

“Yes, mother?”

“Do not come back until the deed is done.”

Minho nodded dutifully, his heart sunk low.

“Yes, mother.”

--

Now, things were personal.

Not only had the mortal girl somehow resisted his arrows, embarrassed him in front of his mother—a woman whose opinion mattered to him above anyone—but she had also earned him effective banishment. There was no doubt in his mind that his mother’s warning was to be interpreted literally: he would not be allowed to return to heaven or his palace until his task was complete, and so what had begun as a run-of-the-mill task was now a quest of redemption. Minho simply despised working harder than he had to.

So, yes. This was personal.

The more he thought on it, the more he supposed his mother to be right. He must have missed. Yes, it looked an awful lot like he struck her clean in the breast— before this he’d have sworn his immortality on it. And yes, he had never been known to miss a shot, ever. And yes; she reacted as he had witnessed every other mortal react in the afterglow of the landing shot. But still. He must have missed. There could be no other explanation.

Resigned to a third attempt, Minho returned at night to Goodhart. This time, he would watch a while longer. He most definitely wouldn’t take to the (rather comfortable) rooftop and admire the constellations; this was serious business, and he ought to treat it as such. Gliding up to her window and perching on the exterior sill, he was surprised to see the room empty. It was late: late enough for most mortals to be going about their quaint evening routines, such as they were. The desk lamp was switched on and a gathering of clothes was strewn about the unkempt bed alongside an open, transparent toiletry bag. A closed laptop balanced atop the bedside table, where also rested stacked books of romance fiction. White, fluffy slippers peeked out from beneath the bed’s skirt, the small wardrobe door had been left ajar. It was curiosity that drove him to crack open the window, and from inside he once again caught the delectable scent that had so tempted him the night before: honey. It warmed him and made his mouth water, the sweet notes inspiring a rumble in his gut that he mentally hushed—as though it could be heard—when the door opened and the girl walked in. Robed in merely a thin towel, her hair wet about her shoulders, he held his breath and gawked. Something about her—something he couldn’t explain but most desperately wished to—was inexplicably appealing. On her entrance the smell of sweet nectar strengthened, and Minho widened the gap in the window to steal a stronger whiff. She shivered and wrapped her arms about herself, glancing to the window that, to her mind, was swinging loosely.

“Thought I’d closed you,” she mumbled, crossing the room and leaning again into Minho’s space. His heart thumped as she reached out to close it: confoundingly annoying, but what good was it to deny?

And then, something quite unfathomable happened.

She froze mid-reach, and stared at Minho.

--

You had never been the type to much believe in fairy tales, myth or folklore.

Being a student of the arts, you were aware enough that such tales were always a product of their time and culture, born to serve one purpose or another. Urban legends to keep folk from the woods at night, fables to sow the seeds of conformity, myths to elevate men to the status of Gods, for hubris and ambition does much to produce good literature.

So does insanity, for its part, and that was precisely what you felt to be stewing in as you looked upon the barely corporeal form of a creature—a man? —perched daintily on your windowsill. He was naked save for a thin white skirt that seemed not to touch him, but float about him. A broad and firm chest tapered to a svelte waist and thick, muscled thighs. Hair of impossible black framed features that you could not entirely comprehend for their beauty, and as though to that end, his face remained a blur save for the shimmering silver of eyes that stared back. A pair of feathery, white wings closed around and under him, and this, you promptly decided, could not be real. If you were to touch him, he would disappear. And so you reached out, hand trembling and warming the nearer you got, as though pushing your arm into a pocket of hot steam. The angel(?) watched, statuesque, and as the very tips of your fingers grazed the smooth upper chest that you were sure you would simply pass through, a pop erupted, as though piercing a vacuum. An extraordinary bout of colour bloomed and spread across his skin, the opaque veil giving way to an iridescent, dazzling gold that shimmered and sparked under the moonlight, yet where your fingers had touched was a deep, purple blotch— a scar on perfection. His features cleared and you saw him with perfect clarity: sharp yet feminine, strikingly gorgeous with plush lips and strong brow. Like nothing you’d ever seen; nothing that ever should be seen. Despite your wants you cried out in shock, recoiled, and slammed the window shut. The angel flitted from the sill, great wings beating gracefully as it hovered for but a moment, spun around, and darted away into the night.

Sleep did not come that night.

Nor did the angel, ever again.

--

She saw him.

She tried to touch him.

Never in all his centuries had Minho experienced such a thing, and were he not on such frosty terms with his mother, he would have turned to her for advice, for he found himself utterly confounded.

A mortal girl saw him.

Had a part of him somehow broken? Was she not mortal after all? Had there been some cosmic imbalance that simply happened to allow for the veil between worlds to thin with comically inopportune timing? Minho had no answers, and knew his frantic worrying would produce none. Thus, he resolved to a plan. The way he saw it, all attempts made so far had depended on his stealth and gentile as Eros, God of Love. Therefore, perhaps a different approach was called for; an approach that would put him in direct contact with the girl that he might work her out— he would have to if he hoped to curse her and appease his mother. Working in the shadows had earned him nothing but a headache.

It was time to step into the light.

--

The Oxford university cafeteria was not a place one went to eat their lunch.

No; the cafeteria was a grand old affair more fitting the pages of Hogwarts, and was treated as such. A hub of activity for passing students that would meet between lectures or seminars to spread the campus gossip like Burberry-clad town criers. It amused you to play a small part in it; you would listen when the girls from your house clucked and fussed over the slightest thing that, if nothing else, distracted from the general stresses of undergraduate life. Ever aware of the way you carried yourself—mother had made sure to drill that one down since birth—you received all news with a complacent smile, unaffected.

Such was the plan today— to pass through on your way to your next class, touch base with the latest triviality, and carry on your day. Yet as you stepped into the high-ceilinged cafeteria and looked around, something struck you as distinctly different.

The whole place was abuzz, humming with chatter and the excited exclamations. Students gathered tightly around the benches and tables, those newly arrived being swarmed upon by peers that sought to be the first to tell them the great news: news you would soon come into possession of.

“Hey!” Your good friend and classmate, Gina, called to you. “Over here!”

You rushed to her, backpack tight to your shoulder. “What on earth’s going on?” you asked. “Half the student body must be here.”

“Girl, you haven’t heard?”

“Haven’t heard what?”

“Oh my God—” She turned to the girl behind her, tapped her shoulder. “She hasn’t heard yet!”

The girl gasped. “You haven’t?! Everyone’s talking about it!”

“Talking about what?”

“I can’t believe you haven’t—”

“Gina.” You pinned her with a stern glare. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Gina drew closer, her voice no lower despite the closed distance as she said, “There’s a new student.”

“A... What? Is that it?”

“He’s not just any student,” she added.

“I heard his biological mother owns Gucci,” a nearby girl added.

“I heard he’s a self-made billionaire,” said another.

“You’re both wrong. He’s the Dean’s son,” Gina tutted.

You held a hand up, head spinning. “Wait. Time out. All this fuss is over a new student?”

“Gucci heir.”

“Billionaire!”

“Dean’s son—”

You rolled your eyes at the objecting chorus. “Whatever. He’s still just a student.”

Gina shook her head. “You clearly haven’t met him.”

“I don’t need to meet him.”

“Oh yeah?” Gina stared over your shoulder. “That’s too bad, because you’re about to.”

You followed her gaze, as did every other student present. The cafeteria burst into a fuss of noise, whispered elation and an air of giddy delight that infected even you with the way your heart pounded indiscriminately. Through a convenient gap in the crowd you looked across to the gently swinging double doors where a person had just entered: a man. A man that met your eyes as soon as yours did his, through tinted sunglasses that utterly failed to conceal the liquid mercury beneath. Under your skin bloomed a molten wanting unlike anything hitherto felt, and in the next breath, a dizzy spell of desire. Mid-length hair the colour of onyx and skin near unsettlingly flawless, it felt merciful to look away from him; to right yourself and steady your feet. Leather jacket tight about his broad shoulders, the man grinned and with no more than a single stride attracted to him the swarm of students that each sought to introduce themselves and make friendly, Gina included. At home amongst the chaos, the man took it all in and with apparent gratitude, unphased by the riot he incited. It took all possible strength to turn and briskly cross the cafeteria, the more distance put between you and them, the better.

Outside and with the summer sun offering a calming warmth of clarity to your head and shoulders, you diverted from the path to the lawn and stopped near a willow tree for breath. It had been all too much. All too reminiscent of your own experience as a naïve Fresher— how the ‘hottest girl on campus’ had been so violently hitched to her pedestal.

“Hello.”

With a shriek you whirled around: there he was. Sunglasses removed and sitting backwards on his head, silver pools of liquid metal pinned you from under strands of thick black.

“Wh— What?”

The man smiled; white, dazzling. “I said hello.”

“Hello?”

“Isn’t that what people say when they meet for the first time?”

You shook your head, scrambling for sense. The shadow of the leafy canopy above danced over the grass, disorienting. As though nature itself responded to his very presence as your peers did.

“But this...” You swallowed, summoned the nerve to look at him. “This isn’t the first time we’ve met.”

--

Minho’s ichor ran cold— a first for a man whose heavenly blood was perpetually warmed by divinity.

“We’ve never met,” he said flatly, as much to convince himself as her.

In truth, he thought she’d be purged of the memory of that murky evening by now, humans so fickle in their recollection. It had been over a week ago. She blinked, the dazzlement in her eyes such that it made Minho wonder if his mortal shell was sufficient in containing his glorious beauty.

“I know you,” she muttered. “I know your face.”

Minho’s heart throbbed.

“I thought it was a dream, but—”

Seeing an opportunity, he leapt at it. “Funny,” he smarmed. “People do like to tell me I’m the stuff of dreams.”

And just like that, she appeared to snap to herself. She grimaced and turned away, starting over the lawn.

“It’s rude to walk away from someone without even asking their name,” he said, keeping up with her.

“I already know your name.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. It’s all anyone in the cafeteria was saying.”

He laughed. “You sound upset about that.”

“Not nearly as upset as I am about being followed.”

“You could always ask me why I’m following you.”

She stopped abruptly and huffed, “Why are you following me, Minho?”

Never had a mortal addressed him by human name— it felt somehow more intimate than the acts he’d indulged in a hundred times or more.

He cleared his throat, stood tall. “You’re the student superintendent for Goodhart, yes?”

She cast a wary eye over him. “I am.”

From his pocket, he retrieved a small, silver key with a wooden tag attached. The number on the tag read ‘307’.

“I’m moving in,” he beamed.

It was her turn to laugh; melodic and bright. Somehow cutting. “Goodhart is a girl’s only house,” she said.

“It was.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was a girl’s only house. Up until about six hours ago.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Cool. You don’t need to. I just need you to show me to my room. It’s this way, right?”

He started off over the lawn, hands in jacket pockets, thoroughly pleased with himself. With a little luck (and maybe an offering or two to his mother), things would continue to go according to plan. He’d have this mortal worked out and trussed up in love with a snake before teatime.

How pleased Aphrodite would be.

--

It was all so wrong.

How was it that a centuries-long tradition could be so readily abandoned for the sake of a rich boy that apparently possessed more connections than the London underground?

Walking briskly down the halls of Goodhart—halls that you had come to love for their quirky colourings and touch of lived-in neglect—you nursed the mortification that swirled about you. It didn’t help that every girl you passed looked on Minho with abject delight and warm welcomes; he was already at home in a place he had no business calling home.

You pointed down the third-floor hall from the top of the connecting staircase.

“Your room is down there,” you said. “On the left.”

Minho hummed. “Cool. Let’s go.”

“I have a lecture.”

You spun on your heel and started down the stairs, only for the man to jump into your path.

“Don’t you have to give me some kind of induction?” he pressed. “As the superintendent, it’s only right you tell me where the fire exits are.”

A hot whirl of irritation barely suppressed the urge to tell him where he could stick his fire exits: you forced a smile instead, and nodded.

“Right. Sure. This way, then.”

Heading down the third-floor hall with him in close pursuit, you began upon a cold realisation. Perhaps the onslaught of emotion had befuddled you enough that you completely missed what was easily the most horrifying thing of all this: room 307 was next to yours.

Minho was your neighbour.

You stopped outside 307’s door. “This is it.”

Minho grinned. “Excellent.”

He took the key from his pocket and unlocked it, stepping inside what was a typical space for university accommodation. A modestly sized room with nothing more than a desk and bed supplied. It fell to the students to make it theirs, so to speak. The white-framed window looked out to the summery lawn, just as yours did. He strolled inside, hands in his leather jacket pockets, peered out of the window and inspected the ceiling, the bed and then you. 

“Fire exits are at both ends of the hall,” you quickly said from the door. “And there’s an emergency escape connected to 301. Got it?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“There’s no curfew and, uh,” you cleared your throat. “No rules on who you can bring back and such. Just remember you’re not the only one who lives here.”

He scanned you coolly. “I’m well aware of that.”

“Good. Well, then.” With a curt nod, you went to leave.

“You’re 306, aren’t you?”

You stopped short, seized with disbelief. “What?”

“You live next door,” he repeated. “We’re neighbours.”

“H— How do you even know that?”

Minho shrugged. “Am I not supposed to know?”

Confounded, you were lost for words. He strolled leisurely around the bed.

“You’re popular on campus,” he said. “I hear people talking about you.”

“Really?” You scoffed. “I’m shocked you could hear anything beyond what everyone seems to be saying about you.”

“It’s funny,” he continued, ignorant of your remark.

“What is?”

“That they say so much about you without actually saying a thing.”

“I don’t follow.”

“Well,” he sighed, perching on the bare mattress. “They say you’re beautiful. Gorgeous, even. That you’ve got an ass to die for and a killer smile.” He raked his gaze over you. “You’re the hottest girl on campus.”

“They can say what they want, I really don’t care. I’m used to it.”

“Right. But it’s all so... vapid. Don’t you think? There’s no substance to it. Seems to me like not a single one of them actually know you. They just know you for what they see. They’re not interested in peering beneath the tight ass and lovely smile.”

You stared at a patch on the brown carpet.

“Is that their fault, or yours?” he asked.

“I’m done with this conversation,” you snapped, turning back to the door.

“I heard about the Fresher’s ball.”

You stopped and swallowed, heat warming your face. “The Fresher’s ball was a mistake.”

“Yeah. You would say that. Getting so drunk you made out with the entire rugby team?”

“That’s not true,” you snapped. “I got drunk, yes, and I know I made a fool of myself, but nothing like that happened. It’s just a nasty rumour.”

Minho shrugged. “Not for me to judge, darling.” He pursed his lips, then added, “Regardless, your peers seem to adore you. The way you look, anyway.”

“Are you done? I don’t know who the hell you think you are but my life is not a soap that you can just tune into for your own amusement. I don’t care what people say about me; I never have.” You turned away from him. “Leave me alone.”

And with an abrupt slam of his door, you left his room to rush to your own. In the solitude and quiet and after deep breaths taken to ease the dreaded panic that had begun to sink in, it was to your own irritation that tears pricked and streaked your cheeks. Nothing he had said was new; you were aware enough of the reason boys smiled at you and girls flocked to you, somehow hoping your acclaimed ‘beauty’ might rub off on them in however shallow a manner. Such had always been the way of things, ever since you were young. Overfamiliar uncles cooing at your pretty face, jealous aunts shunning you. High school friends lost to petty crushes that turned eyes on you, strangers that stared and whispered. You had hoped for a new start with the chapter of university, and for a while, things had been better. You’d been just another student of low profile, had kept to yourself, had protected your peace.

All until the damn Fresher’s ball.

One moment of weakness and indulgence in excess had ruined it: all eyes had a reason to turn to you as you revelled and danced with more suggestive intonation than you would ever have otherwise dared, and they hadn’t turned away since. Rumours abounded of your state and activity after the ball, ranging from those Minho had heard and of far more explicit affairs, none of them true. Unwilling to dig to the root of the whispers, you simply turned away from it, choosing above all else to carry yourself the way you had always done under lustful eyes: with quiet dignity.

Who was this man to throw all that in your face? To so brazenly trample on your boundaries? Whether Dean’s son or Gucci heir or self-made billionaire, it was clear he possessed an appalling level of entitlement, and was someone to be avoided. Just what he hoped to gain from such rash treatment of a stranger, you couldn’t be sure, but promptly decided it was not worth your energy to work out.

You would carry yourself the way you had always done.

--

The mystery of Minho’s identity prevailed for longer than you cared to acknowledge.

He hefted his wants around campus with reckless abandon, and by now it was certain that you were the only one mourning the all-female occupation of Goodhart House, for the other girls were nothing but pleased by the male addition.

Indeed, neither an eye was blinked nor a question asked as to his means of securing a place at Goodhart, much less Oxford on the whole. The man seemed to don the shroud of myth— every word passed around and about him painted a thrilling picture: he was everything the students wished him to be and more, for never once did he deny a rumour. An image forged in gossip is one susceptible to warping, and if Minho played into that, it was lost on the student body. Rather, he was welcomed with more abject favouritism than you had ever witnessed; you might have drowned in the second-hand embarrassment of your peers if not for the glowering contempt you stewed in upon for the fact that the detestable man was now your neighbour.

And yes, you were self-aware enough to admit a pull of attraction that you kept as close to your pride as your dignity. You’d rather be seen dead than join the gaggle of groupies that worshipped his every move and hung on his every word.

Thus far, you had done a stalwart job of avoiding him. A fortnight with no run-ins had confirmed that, inasmuch as you could tell, you had no classes together nor crossover seminars, no reason to interact. Yet through all this, the glimpses you would catch of his jet-black head and the trill of his laughter from next door provoked an unease: what was this familiarity you felt? Why were you the only one that seemed to notice how his eyes shimmered with the light of a cosmos?

Best to put it out of your mind, lest your mind put out of you.

On the Friday evening you nursed your well-loved copy of Wuthering Heights, contemplating between long paragraphs just what Heathcliff’s redeeming qualities were intended to be. While all for reading between the lines, it seemed to you that any virtue of character should not be so difficult to find.

Situated comfortably on the inner sill of your bedroom window and looking out, it was another fair night. The moon hung bright and clear over the distant woods and town of Oxford, the sky utterly clear of a cloud. Perhaps it had been a cloud that night, that you saw. A cloud in the form of an angel, sent to you by sleep deprivation and an overdose of caffeine.

A knock on your door drew your attention; supposing it would be one of the regular girls stopping by to regale you with their Friday night antics, you rushed over and threw it open.

How your heart seized in your chest.

Eyes of mercury assessed you from under damp raven strands.

“Good evening,” Minho said.

Too bewildered to much reply, he breathed a soft laugh at your dazzlement.

“May I come in?”

“What?”

“Can I come in?” he asked again, emphasising a glance into your room that reared a bout of self-consciousness.

“N— No. Go away.”

“I come with offerings,” he said, tapping the plastic Tupperware box tucked under his arm that had somehow gone unnoticed. “Fudge brownies. A little birdie told me they’re your favourite.”

You folded your arms defensively. “Did they now?”

Minho cocked a brow. “They were wrong?”

“N— No. I suppose not.”

He grinned, utterly disarming. “I feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot, so to speak,” he said gently. “I’d like to start again. Get to know each other. Clean slate. We’re neighbours, after all.”

“I don’t think—”

He held the Tupperware box up. “Please?”

You huffed an indignant sigh.

Might have to strangle a birdie or two.

--

Minho had no experience with human narcotics.

Indeed, the closest divine equivalent was the concoction of ambrosia, and that—if the Sky Father’s behaviour was anything to judge by—induced the sort of buzz that mortals gained from an excess of wine. There was no substance in heaven or on Earth that could so impact the Gods the way he had seen man-made narcotics impact humans; though he desired no such extremity tonight. He had simply taken the advice of those keen mortals that surrounded him, given when he had subtly enquired as to the real nature of his target: “She’s uptight, man. Super hot, but uptight. She needs to relax, smoke a little. It’ll help her unclench. Man, can you imagine her high? No, yeah, I know she doesn’t smoke, but like— She likes brownies, right? She always buys those little fudge ones from the cafeteria. I’d love to see her eat a moon cake. I bet she’d get totally wild, just like that one time at the ball.”

Thus, a plan emerged.

Stepping into her room was the first hurdle overcome: he had been fully braced for a door slam to the face. Instead, he found himself pleasantly surprised, and then somewhat concerned, for it was clear by now that that not even his mortal disguise could completely conceal his divine appeals from her. Where other mortals saw a dark and handsome man, she saw beyond it. The way she stared and how her heartbeat quickened told of it all. Worse still that he seemed to respond in kind— but no, he could not even entertain it. His visit carried a purpose, and that was to get to the bottom of what made her so special.

“Nice place,” he said as he looked briefly around, not to impress discomfort upon the girl.

“Thanks. It’s the same as every other in this building.”

Minho chuckled. She was possessed of a sense of humour, at least.

“You were reading?” he asked, idly flipping the cover of Wuthering Heights that sat on the bedside table. He hadn’t read it himself, but recalled the sister Muses’s boasts from the time of its inception: what promising devotees they claimed those Bronte’s would be.

“Yeah.”

“A touch on the heavy side for a Friday night, no?”

She shrugged, arms wrapped around herself. “I like it.”

“You read a lot?”

“I mean; yeah. English Lit student.”

“Ah. A romantic, then.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“All arts students are romantics, darling.”

He sat at the foot of the bed, Tupperware box in his lap, quietly pleased with how her heart sounded to have skipped a beat at the endearment.

“Join me?” he asked, tapping the space at his side.

She cleared her throat and swallowed, moving stiffly to the desk where she pulled out the chair. Minho watched in amusement, but did not contest. He snapped open the Tupperware box to the velvety rich scent of chocolate, humming in delight: a deity he might be, but just as susceptible to the serotonin of indulgent food. Neatly sliced brownies sat on paper towel, and he offered the box to her first. She eyed it warily.

“They’re just brownies,” he lied.

A purse of her lips and she contemplated something: whatever it was, it quickly passed.

“Thank you,” she sighed, dipping into the box and retrieving the topmost brownie.

“You’re welcome, darling.”

Minho helped himself to one, wishing almost that he could join the girl on the trip she was about to take. It’d be fun to witness, nonetheless. With inhibitions lowered and her true state of mind brought to the forefront, he’d surely discover what it was that blessed her so. What it would take to make her fall in love with the most horrible thing he could find. What he had to do to—

“Mhm.”

A small but sure groan of appreciation made Minho’s fine hairs stand on end: he paused his own consumption to watch her, her face aglow with warm delight. Chocolate on her lips begged to be illicitly removed; Minho swallowed, yearning thrumming under his skin.

“Is this why everyone on campus adores you?” she asked after a moment.

“W— What?”

“You bribe them,” she said, pointedly glancing to the Tupperware box.

Minho scoffed. “I don’t need to bribe people into liking me. It comes naturally.”

“Does your modesty come naturally too?”

“You know; you’re awfully abrasive with me. Did I do something to offend you?”

She shrugged, took another bite of brownie. “No. You’re not that powerful.”

He smirked. “Then what is it?”

“I suppose I just don’t understand.”

“Understand what?”

“You.” She licked her lips. “Nothing about you seems real. There are so many rumours about you and you don’t deny or correct a single one.”

He quirked a brow. “You think I should?”

“I think anyone that puts any value in their identity should, yes. I have a past. A home. I know where I came from and who I am. If I heard people saying otherwise, I'd want to put them right about it.”

She licked her fingers, one by one, the sweet and tempting chocolate coating her tongue. Minho crossed his legs.

“Tell me about them,” he said.

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me about your past. Your home. Where you came from and who you are.”

“We weren’t talking about me—”

“We are now.”

She blinked, swallowing the last bite of brownie and, once again, darted her tongue out over shiny lips. Minho followed the movement of it slowly, wondered how sweet she’d be to kiss, drew his attention back to her eyes where she, too, had been watching him. She cleared her throat abruptly.

“I, uh...” She shrugged a shoulder. “Well. I was born in a small village. There was nothing much to do growing up, so I read a lot. Too much, my mother used to say. She never really understood why I liked it, and I never really had the energy to explain.”

Minho nodded. “What did your parents do?”

“Mum was an artist. A sculptor, mostly, though she did paint too.”

“And your father?”

“I never knew him.”

“Never?”

She shook her head.

“Your mother didn’t tell you anything about him?” he pressed.

“Nothing I could have believed.”

“Such as?”

“It’s not even worth talking about—”

“Humour me.”

She hummed. “Well, she... I mean, you have to understand that Mum wasn’t a well woman. She had strange beliefs. Acted oddly. It got worse as she got older. Towards the end, not a thing she said made sense. She told me that...” She hesitated.

“Go on,” Minho encouraged.

“She said that my father was a god. As in; an actual god. He pursued her relentlessly, apparently. Sent her gifts and showered her with affection. Was obsessed with her. Eventually she caved and fell in love with him, then they made me, but he had to return to... wherever the hell he came from. I don’t know.”

Minho’s palms grew clammy; he set the Tupperware box on the bed. “I see.”

“I told you; she was completely delusional.” She stood and reached for another brownie, breaking a piece off and popping it into her mouth. “The story changed every time. Sometimes he came to her as a man, sometimes as a snake, or a stallion. For all her berating of my reading, she had a wicked imagination of her own.” She swallowed the brownie piece, broke off another. “I’m pretty sure he was just someone from the village. I really don’t care either way.”

Minho did not hear much of what was said after— he couldn’t over the rush of ichor that deafened him. It could not be true: it made no sense to be true.

“As for who I am,” she continued, oblivious. “I’m nothing special.”

“I very much contest that.”

She scoffed, breaking off yet more brownie and eating it. “You don’t know me even nearly well enough.”

“I’d like to,” he said.

She eyed him. “Why?”

“Why not? Can't we get to know each other?”

“Alright then,” she smacked her lips, set the brownie chunk aside and dusted her hands against each other. “Your turn. Dispel the illusion for me.”

Minho chuckled. What earlier cold dread had settled on him began to thaw.

“I could just feed you a pack of lies,” he said.

“You could.”

He held her gaze, the dim moonlight streaking her features.

“Swear that you won’t,” she muttered.

 Swear? To swear was to forge an oath; to forge an oath was divine. Under normal circumstances he would shy away from such a hefty obligation, but this...

“Alright.” He nodded. “I swear.”

With a slight smile, she asked, “Where’s home?”

“Far from here.”

“Where do you come from?”

“I was born in the mountains.”

“You swore you wouldn’t lie.”

“I’m not.”

She pursed her lips. “Okay... Who are you, Lee Minho?”

“I am the God of Love, sent to Earth by my mother Aphrodite to curse you for being too beautiful.”

She blinked, her shoulders drawn tight. A moment of tense silence passed, and in the next instant, she burst into laughter, doubling over herself on the chair. She cackled and guffawed until she cried, and Minho found himself not only enraptured with the sound of her joy, but elated at being the cause of it. If indeed, he truly was.

“It’s a zero for originality,” she whimpered on a laugh. “You can’t just steal my stories like that and twist them!”

Minho watched in amusement.

“Also— you promised no lies. That’s an even bigger zero.”

She picked up the last chunk of brownie she’d set aside, pushing it past her lips with a giggle that carried for long minutes as she chewed contentedly. She swallowed and sighed, brought her legs up to cross under her, swivelling gently in the desk chair.

“Imagine being the God of Love,” she mumbled. “Must be bloody awful.”

Minho hummed. “You think so?”

“Yeah. For sure. Imagine being surrounded by love all the time— every second of every minute of every day.” She shuddered dramatically. “Couldn’t be me.”

“But you are surrounded by love,” he said. “It takes many different forms, you know. Friends, family, faith.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“Fornication.”

She coughed suddenly, looking anywhere but at him. Endearing warmth pooled under the simmering yearning that resided in Minho; how much longer he could keep it wrested, he wasn’t sure.

“I imagine being a God of Love to be great fun,” he said. “I imagine they might get into all sorts of mischief.”

“I don’t like mischief.”

“Everybody likes a bit of mischief.”

She shook her head. “Not me. I’d much rather—” She yawned. “I’d much rather live a quiet life.”

Minho hummed, watching as she wilted on her seat. She sat bolt upright on feeling herself sag, blinking rapidly.

“I don’t, uh...” She put a hand to her forehead. “I don’t think I feel very well.”

“What’s wrong, darling?”

“I...” She slipped her legs from under her, made an attempt to stand that ended futilely; Minho quickly rose and caught her weight. To restrain what burned in him; what the God of Love so easily took when the urges presented, was a goliath task.

“S— Sorry,” she mumbled, and tried to move from him, only to stagger once more.

“I’ve got you,” he said. “Want to lie down?”

“No. I just—” She gripped his arms tightly, let herself lean into his strong frame. The thin cotton of clothing under her hands seemed to fascinate her; she released the grip and, transfixed, began to stroke softly, her touch wandering from bicep to shoulder to chest. Minho hoped she could not feel the way his heart throbbed under her hand; she looked up at him, eyes glassy and rounded with adoration.

“You are... so pretty,” she mumbled, touching softly his cheek, his jaw. “So, so pretty.”

Heat flared under his skin, singing what sense he possessed.

“I thought you—” She grinned lazily. “I thought you were the angel. It came to me, you know. Right to my window. It was the prettiest thing I've ever seen. Then I saw you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath; much more praise and the swelling in his groin would not be so ignored.

She cupped his face with warm hands. “I don’t really like you. But I do like you. You make me—” She narrowed her eyes, blinked slowly. “You make me want to do things I’ve never even thought about before. Bad things.”

“Bad things?”

She nodded, then pressed a finger to his lips. “I’ll never admit that to you, though. Just so you know.”

The already abused thread of Minho’s self-control frayed and worried; he gently removed her hand, took her wrists in hold. To remove himself was the wise thing to do; she was not herself, and he was not so virtuous as to resist much longer.

 “It’ll be our secret, then,” he said.

“Mhm.”

“Why don’t you lie down for a bit, darling? You’re not feeling well.”

“I’m fine.”

“Of course. Just try it. For me.”

She shook her head, about to protest when in the next instant, a sallow and sickly look of panic came over her.

“I— I think I’m going to be—”

And with a short, retching heave, she threw up over Minho’s slippers, sweats and the rest of the brownies in the open Tupperware box.

There was hardly a shred of grace to be found in the rest of the evening, the responsibilities of caregiver taken on board. Minho cleaned both of them up, set the girl to bed with surprising lack of resistance on her part, and once sure that she was free of cramps and convulsions, retired himself to the roof of Goodhart.

Wired and utterly unable to sleep, he watched the constellations until he could think without the red mist of lust impeding him. In doing so, the cold realisation he had earlier felt on hearing her mother’s story returned to him. He would not have entertained it had the finer details not rung so true to a certain Olympian King and Cloud Gatherer’s famous behaviour. Indeed, it would certainly explain her invulnerability to his arrows and her uncanny intuition as to Minho’s nature: not much would escape a daughter of Zeus.

But then; if true, how had it gone unnoticed by Aphrodite? Surely she would know of the girl’s lineage. Surely all Olympians would know, for Zeus made no secret of his bastards and indeed, cultivated a long line of offspring from mortals, demi-gods, minor deities and nymphs all, much to Hera’s (equally as famous) wrath.

He would think on it, he decided. If nothing else, he was further along in working her out than he had been several hours ago, and with no thanks to the moon cakes. A stupid idea, to attempt to relax her through such unpredictable means in the hopes she might talk or reveal some mystery.

He would apologise tomorrow. Perhaps find her a gift.

All for the quest, of course.

--

You awoke feeling distinctly like a beaten piñata.

Your head throbbed steadily and a nausea lingered, rolling dangerously on your attempt to get up and out of bed. Trudging to the window, you threw it open and gulped in the fresh mid-morning air, warmed by summer’s sun and redolent of the nearby woods, earthen and faintly floral. A musk hung about your room; not one that was generally familiar to you, but it was reminiscent of the night before; of a sudden drowsy warmth and hands touching things they most definitely shouldn’t have. With a grimace and under the chill of mortification, you got dressed and tried to make presentable, quietly leaving your room and heading next door.

A deep breath preceded your soft knock: for a moment you thought it too soft to be heard, but it quickly opened to reveal a shower-fresh, modern-day Adonis— not even your sickly state could perturb the way you stared. A wet towel was slung over his sloped shoulders, the twisted ends hanging over curved pectorals. The rest of him was entirely naked, his skin still wet and catching the gentle light of the morning that shone in streaks through the half-drawn blinds. Dripping, dark strands framed rosy, handsome features. Veined biceps flexed as he held the door, and following the line of his body, you saw a wave of slight abs, svelte waistline, shapely hips, a fine dusting of hair that crept from his groin to his navel; a happy trail, so delightful as to make your mouth water.

As for what hung between his legs— well, it seemed to you on first glance that he possessed three of them.

Minho cleared his throat, apparently as mystified as you.

“H— Hi.”

“Sorry—” You snapped back to yourself. “Jesus. Sorry. I, uh— I’ll come back.”

“No, don’t. Just give me a second?”

He quickly disappeared, though left the door ajar, the sounds of rummaging and changing heard. When he reappeared, he was mercifully clothed in sweats and a black shirt.

“Come in,” he said.

“I... I really can come back if it’s a bad time—”

“It’s not. Come in.”

Compliance came courtesy of his authoritative tone, and in stepping into his room, you were surprised to see it so sparse. Aside from the wardrobe and larger than average bed, there was nothing that denoted even an ounce of personality; no posters, no books, no belongings. Nothing to suggest it was even lived in at all, if not for the presence of the man himself.

“I haven’t had time to decorate yet,” he said intuitively.

You nodded, though quietly doubtful, and wandered to the open window where at least you could call on the fresh air to keep you grounded. While clothed, he was no less dazing to be around.

“I just wanted to—”

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

You shrugged. “Not great.”

Minho, holding position at the other side of the room, looked downtrodden.

“Nothing a few paracetamols won’t fix, I'm sure,” you added lightly.

He shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

“What? I’m the one that should be apologising, I behaved like a—”

“You have nothing to apologise for. You were only like that because of me. It’s my fault.”

Confused, you watched as he came closer, raked a hand through his slowly drying hair.

“There was, uh...” He licked his lips. “There was marijuana in the brownies.”

Dumbfounded, you could only blink.

“I thought they might loosen you up,” he continued.

“Loosen me up?”

“It was a stupid, ridiculous idea. I know that. I’m so sorry. If I'd known how badly you’d react to it—”

“You drugged me!?”

Minho flinched. “I... I wouldn’t put it quite like that.”

“That's what it is, Minho. You drugged me. You fed me drugs without my knowledge or consent. I’ve never taken any kind of drug, let alone eaten it. You—” Too enraged to find the words, you gesticulated wildly. “Fuck. You.”

Storming past him with a succinct shoulder barge, Minho caught you by the wrist, an earnest apology on his gorgeous face.

“I’m so sorry, darling. It was never my intention to hurt you.”

A wave of bitter resentment accompanied the heat; you snatched away from him, summoning your courage.

“I’m not your darling.”

He caught your other wrist, persistent.

“You could be,” he said.

“Let me go—”

“You like me."

A concoction of embarrassment and want swam around you. “Looks like you can’t keep a secret, either,” you muttered.

And with that, he released you, his silvery gaze dropping in something finalistic; something defeated.

“Stay away from me,” you said flatly.

He did not stop your third attempt at exit, nor did he call on you for the rest of the day.

Nor the rest of the week.

--

It was difficult for a God to experience guilt.

Minho, being a creature of compassion and with love built into his very existence, found that it tarnished everything he hitherto enjoyed about the mortal world. As though being forced to swallow his pride and admit that he had made a mistake was not bad enough, there was the added realisation that he had acted detrimentally to his own quest— she would not even look at him, let alone allow him to get close enough to make amends, to lower guard, to give him opportunity to strike.

And so ensued a cold war of sorts, her avoidance of him going to such lengths as to involve her temporary removal from Goodhart House to stay with a friend on the other side of campus. This ‘Gina’—the girl upon whom she’d imposed—struck Minho as a fickle creature, susceptible to gossip and vapid trends and student body politics insofar as their theatrics. Not a good influence, he ultimately surmised, but nonetheless his target appeared fond of her. Trusted her. To that end, Minho saw an angle. A new opportunity. One that he somewhat wished to have happened upon before he decided on the use of narcotics, but hindsight would do him no good now.

It was as Gina left her last class of the day that Minho sought to introduce himself.

“Hello, darling.”

He was met with the typical starry-eyed wonderment, the blushing and quickening of heartbeat that all betrayed her delight at being so approached by trend #1— if Minho played into that, he was no sorer for it. Neither was he spoiled for choices, which posed his reasoning for offering to escort her to her dormitory, whereupon the worst simply had to happen.

On the stone steps of the grand, old building waited his target, her beauty seeming more so dazzling since he had been denied the sight of her. On seeing him, however, she rolled her eyes and muttered a curse, storming towards her friend.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed at Gina.

“Lovely to see you too,” Minho smarmed.

Gina startled, seemingly offended. “What is with that tone? I know you two aren’t on the best of terms—”

“The best of terms? He drugged me, Gina.”

“Right, so you keep saying, but like...” She glanced at Minho fondly, then shrugged. “He hasn’t drugged me.”

Dumbfounded, she stared at her friend, then at Minho. What pain he saw there perplexed him— it shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal, for there was nothing so intimate between them to betray.

“Minho was actually just offering to take me out for drinks tonight,” Gina said. “You can come if you want.”

“No way.”

“Alright, well, I’m not going to stand here trying to convince you. We’ll be at Cherub’s if you change your mind.” With that, Gina whirled on the spot and started off. Minho lingered.

“Aren’t you going with her?” she snapped.

“You should come.”

“And third wheel your date? No thanks.”

“There’s enough of me to go around,” Minho grinned, more amused than serious.

“What a gentleman you are.”

“I like to think so.”

“Do you like to think you’re the kind of gentleman that drugs the dames before he has his way with them, too?”

Minho flinched. “That’s not how it was. I just wanted to—”

“Loosen me up. Because I'm such an uptight bitch. Yeah, I get it.”

“No. Because you confound me. That’s all.”

She almost laughed, clutching her books so tightly the skin of her knuckles drew thin and tense.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous that sounds? It makes no sense—”

“Come for a drink with me. I’ll make it make sense.”

She huffed a deep breath. “I can’t. I have plans.”

Minho quirked a brow. “With Heathcliff? How exciting.”

“It— It’s infinitely more exciting than spending a second longer with you, actually” she stammered.

Minho laughed. “That’s simply not true, darling.”

“How many times; I’m not your darling.”

“But you want to be.”

“Oh my god.” She spun on her toe, marching back up the steps. “I’m going inside.”

“I’ll see you at Cherub’s, then,” he called.

“Leave me alone, Minho!”

“Never,” he whispered as she shoved into the building.

And suddenly, things looked up.

--

Not your finest moment, to tiptoe into a bustling Cherub’s with your proverbial tail between your legs, dignity waving you off at the door.

He said he’d make it make sense: that’s what you clung to the entire way here, for there was so much about him—the things he did and said—that didn’t add up. You imagined what it might be like to understand him instead of loathe him as you peered between gatherings of students in search of him and Gina. About as typical a student union bar as one might imagine, Cherub’s was home to beer-soaked carpets and sticky seats, outdated seventies décor and mismatched lighting. Cheap and (not so) cheerful, it did just the trick for instilling a quick buzz, yet its nearness to accommodation meant that said buzz devolved to debauchery more often than not.

Heathcliff was, you rather thought, far more exciting.

You had vowed after the Fresher’s ball never to drink unless circumstances were dire enough to call for it, and so your detouring to the bar should have said something as to the state of your nerves, whereupon you ordered a vodka and tonic. With a weak smile at the tender, you gratefully took the almost-cool glass, a sip of the fizzy concoction neither unpleasant nor particularly enjoyable. It would take the edge off, in a moment.

“Drinking alone?”

The voice behind your ear startled, the glass slipping from your grasp only to be caught deftly by another, not so much as a drop spilled. Minho smiled warmly, ever radiant against the surroundings. Almost unsettlingly so, for all near eyes were trained to him, and in turn, you.

He brought the rescued glass to his glossed lips, a perfunctory sip followed by a sharp grimace. He set it on the bar and slid it away, out of reach.

“Excuse me, I paid good money for that—”

“My condolences,” he sighed, raking slim fingers through silky, dark strands that framed shadowed eyes of liquid silver.

He flagged down the tender with a wave. “One pornstar martini and a Glenfiddich, straight. No ice. Make the martini virgin.”

“A virgin pornstar martini?”

“I am a collection of paradoxes, darling.”

Your heart pounded; hopeless as it was.

The drinks arrived promptly, and Minho took them in hand.

“Where’s Gina?” you asked, realisation of her absence coming perhaps a touch too late.

Minho smiled. “Come on.”

He led you through the student bodies and to the rear of the venue, where a booth table went unoccupied. A folded piece of A4 card with ‘RESERVED’ scrawled on it adorned the polished table; you poorly stifled a laugh.

“They reserved a table for you? At Cherub’s?”

Minho nodded, sliding into the opposite seat and setting the drinks down. “I asked them to, yes.”

“It’s a student bar, not a five-star restaurant. Honestly. Who are you?”

Minho settled, a serene smile on his lips. “I believe we’ve had this conversation.”

You rolled your eyes. “Right.” And took the cocktail glass. The pink concoction finished with a half pomegranate slice smelled sweet and fruity, yet distinctly lacked the tang you wished it had.

“This didn’t have to be non-alcoholic,” you weakly complained.

“Mhm. Well. I’ll not be guilty of the same thing twice,” he replied, swirling whiskey around his own short glass. “Besides; you don’t strike me as a drinker.”

“Do I strike you as the drug taker?”

Minho’s gaze fell. “No.”

You hummed and sipped your drink. In truth, giving him a hard time was beginning to lose its novelty. Not only did you wish to move on from the whole thing, but it was getting harder to withstand the clear guilt in his mesmerising eyes. Whatever his intentions had been, they most certainly were not malicious, which ought to count for something, you thought.

“I’m still sorry,” he said.

“I know.”

“I’d very much like to make it up to you.”

“How?”

Minho opened his mouth to speak, but in place of his alluring tone came a high-pitched screech of your name; you startled and looked to Gina, who was barrelling towards the table.

“You came!” she cried, shoving hastily into the seat beside Minho; he scooted aside as best he could, but was already trapped. She linked an arm through his, settled into his side, utterly at home. She looked you over incredulously.

“I didn’t think you’d show. You know; I actually can’t even remember the last time I saw you out,” she said, her thick, glossed lips sticky with reflective residue.

You forced a smile. Ignored how their apparent familiarity made your stomach twist. “Yeah. Me neither.”

“I’m always telling her she should get out more,” she continued, this to Minho. “It’s like she’s allergic to socialising.”

“I’m not allergic to it, G. I just prefer to—”

“Sit in and read, I know. Hey— I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. You do you, babe. I just find it funny that the only time you actually make the effort to come out is when you know a hot guy is going to be around.”

Your face flamed with heat— why did this martini have to be so horribly prudish? You stared into it, adequately mortified, for she wasn’t entirely wrong in her observations, and that only raised questions as to your character too difficult to answer in the light of day. Or grunge of bar, for that matter.

“You’ve got it all wrong, darling,” Minho intervened lightly. “I insisted on her coming so I could buy her a drink in apology for the... incident. The timing happened to be right for her. That’s all.”

Gina rolled her eyes. “Sure. Whatever.” She unlinked her arm from his, fanned out the ends of her short hair from the collar of her leather jacket. “I’m going to get a drink.”

She planted a brief kiss on Minho’s cheek, and slid gracefully out of the booth. Your heart catapulted to your throat, where it stayed until Minho spoke.

“We, uh—”

“I don’t want to know,” you quickly said.

“There’s nothing to know, darling. She’s just... exceptionally forward.”

“Don’t call me darling—”

“I call everyone darling.”

“I know,” you hissed. “Why do you think I feel so bloody stupid that it makes my heart race every time?!”

A moment of comprehension crossed you both, and where your realisation of emotional confession brought him to a slow smile, it brought you to cold despair.

You stood quickly, gathering yourself. “I shouldn’t have come; this was such a bad idea—”

A swift grip on your wrist stopped your panicked exit.

“Don’t leave.”

“Minho—”

“There’s so much I have to know about you,” he said, pinning you with a softening gaze. “So much that I don’t understand. So much that infuriates me, so much that intrigues. You’ve caused me so much trouble, but even so, there’s something that I... Something about you that makes me just—”

“Everything okay over here?”

Gina’s flat question javelined the moment; you looked to her, saw her unimpressed eye trained to where Minho held you still. She upturned her lips in a sneer, the three drinks in her hand trembling.

“You couldn’t just let me have this, could you?” she snarled at you.

“Gina—”

“Every single fucking time, it’s you. It’s always you. Every boy I've ever liked or that’s ever shown any interest in me— They always fall for you. It’s like you can’t stand to see me happy.”

Gutted with guilt and confusion, you snatched your wrist from Minho.

“It’s not what you think, at all. We were just—”

“You might be beautiful on the outside,” she spat. “But inside, you’re a fucking monster. Everyone will see that one day.”

Minho rose from his seat. “That’s enough,” he snapped, glowering. “She takes no blame in this. She takes no blame in anything you accuse her of. It’s her fate to—” And he stopped himself short, as though stumbling back from a precipice. He straightened himself and took a deep breath.

“It’s not her fault,” he said acerbically.

Gina pursed her lacquered lips. “Right. So, it’s yours then? That's what you’re saying?”

Minho shrugged. “Perhaps I manoeuvred in such a way as to ensure you got me close to her, yes.”

Your gut turned over with hot nausea.

“What does that even fucking mean?” Gina balked, anger wrinkling her. “Sometimes you talk like you’re from a different planet, I swear to God.”

Minho sniffed, then smiled. He licked his lips, and said plainly, “I used you to get to her, darling.”

Gina’s jaw slacked, then tightened. It seemed she understood, this time, and perhaps you saw the next thing coming from a mile away: she swore and brutally tossed the three drinks she held straight at Minho, soaking and swilling his head, face and chest with sticky, sweet alcohol. The man took it well, for all his surprise, and swept his hands down his face stoically.

“You two are made for each other,” she hissed, and with that, turned tail and stalked away.

All eyes in near vicinity watched in tense silence as you, unable to even think beyond the molten mortification of it all, did much the same. Perhaps Minho called after you, and perhaps a small part of you wished to stay and console him, yet the larger part of you seethed with disappointment, for he had once again demonstrated himself to be less than half the man you ever wished to be so attracted to.

Minho, for all his obvious and daunting appeals, was not a good man.

--

Minho was starting to believe that the Fates had something against him.

Every attempt he made to get close to her ended in unmitigated disaster, and as if that wasn’t headache enough, he was now forced to acknowledge that what burned in him when he thought of the mortal girl was not simple curiosity: he craved her.

This called into question everything he knew: his quest, his mother’s wishes, his own existence as the God of Love, for as has been established, the God of Love loves all. He does not fall in love. Until he does.

 Perhaps it would simply be easier to out the truth of it all. Yes, it would shatter her mortal logic and push her to the limits of her comprehension, but what was the alternative? To continue wresting his own desires until such a time as he imploded? There was only so much one could take, even for a God, and Minho felt the tether of his patience rapidly diminishing.

Whatever he decided to do, he could not do it under these circumstances. He would have to, once again, make amends. Somehow.

What small silver lining there was to this whole mess came in the form of her moving back to Goodhart House, presumed discomfort between she and Gina resulting in such separation. Minho knew well what part he’d played in that, but in truth, couldn’t bring himself to feel entirely bad about it.

Two nights later—he had learned that mortals valued their space—saw him timidly knocking on her bedroom door, an uncharacteristic bout of nerves swirling about him. Moments passed before she answered, her vacant expression drawing grim on the sight of him.

“What do you want?”

The afternoon sunlight streaming through the window appeared to halo her, a warmth resonating from her person and within her room that set upon Minho a steady yearning; he could take her in his arms so easily, make her feel things no mortal man could.

Instead, he licked his dry lips, and from behind his back, produced the object he’d been concealing. She glanced at it, brows knitting together.

“What the hell is that? A twig?”

“I couldn’t find an olive branch.”

Just like that, the subtlest of curves to her lips ignited hope. She quickly reset herself into a deep-set frown.

“You’re an idiot,” she said.

“I am.”

“Gina and I aren’t speaking because of you.”

“I know.”

“You used her.”

“I did.”

“I mean; why did you have to be so—” she huffed. “You could have been nicer about it.”

“She knew what was happening,” Minho shrugged. “Sugar coating it would have only wounded her further.”

“You can’t just use people, Minho.”

Minho quirked a brow. “But it worked, didn’t it?”

“What?”

“It worked. You’re talking to me again. You’ve done nothing but talk to me since the minute you saw me with her, in fact.”

She dropped her gaze, wrapped her arms around herself. “You let her believe you liked her.”

“I do like her,” Minho replied.

“Oh.”

“Just nowhere near as much as I like you.”

A small puff of breath from her sweet lips seemed almost to indicate disbelief, and Minho supposed that until now, he’d made no such clear indication of his feelings. Suggestion and vague inference, perhaps, while he tried himself to understand what he battled with, but such roundabout behaviour was not in his nature.

“I like you a lot,” he said softly.

She shook her head. “Stop.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“It’s not— I don’t know. I can’t do this.”

She moved to shut the door, but Minho caught it quickly, stepping inside.

“You won’t even give me a chance to explain?” he pressed.

“I can’t. You don’t get it. Gina likes you. She was so upset about the whole thing, and you’re just— You don’t care at all. If anything, you seem proud of it. I can’t be with someone like that.”

Minho crowded her, for while her mouth said one thing, her body said another. Against the near wall she shrank, the rampant thump of her heart so alluring as to draw him near until barely a foot of space rested between them.

“You’re lying to yourself,” he said. “You claim that you can’t be with someone like me, but you know it as well as I do, darling; there is no one like me. I am the epitome of what you’ve always craved, and pretending otherwise will only push you to madness.”

“Minho—”

“As for the girl,” he interrupted softly, still so near. “She was a means to an end, yes. And you are correct; I am proud that my course of action bore fruit. I would do the same thing again, given a choice.”

She shook her head. “That’s the problem. I told you already; you can’t just use people.”

“I can do whatever I damn well please, and so should you. You have that right.”

“Not if it hurts other people.”

“And what of hurting yourself? Why sacrifice your own happiness for someone that doesn’t value you? Calls you names? Thinks you no more than a heartless monster? You might consider her a friend, but I assure you darling, she holds no such fondness towards you. Who do you think it was began the slanderous rumours that circulated after your Fresher’s ball?”

Pain flashed in her watering eyes; a truth that perhaps she had always quietly known brought to the surface.

“This abstinence from me only serves to hurt you.”

She cast a contemptuous glare cast up at him. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” she snapped. “You don’t know the first thing about me or what I'm feeling.”

Minho pressed in close, strong arms either side of her head. He hummed softly, “I hear how your heart cries out to me. See how your womanhood swells the closer we are; I only wish you’d give it to me, darling. I’d take such good care of it.”

He felt a shiver barely suppressed as she relented, melting by the second. Words of honey in her ears warmed her from within; Minho might die if he couldn’t taste.

“I wish to undo you and put you back together, one delicious, wet molecule at a time,” he said gently, nosing her soft lobe, then along her jaw. Her breaths devolved to soft pants, each one redolent of sweet nectar that further maddened him. “I’d defy the heavens themselves if it meant I could spend a single night with you.”

--

Minho had once said that arts students were hopeless romantics: he seemed none removed from the vagaries of waxing poetic himself.

You would have given it more thought if not so tightly strung with desire for the man that had, by some cosmic or divine will, worked his way into your bedroom. You knew nothing about him— that much had not changed. Neither had it changed that you detested how he carried himself, how he seemed so aloof to the most basic of kindnesses, how confidence and self-assurance came so naturally to him while it constantly evaded you.

It made no sense that a man like him could desire a woman like you, yet here he was, in your space, hot and firm, whispering such sweet and magical words as to make your head spin and your heart throb.

“Your desire for me is so strong, I can taste it,” he said breathlessly; a statement of fact offered as such, and you weren’t of the mind to deny it.

“Will you admit it?” he pressed. “Return my sentiments?”

Your weak nod told it. “Yes.”

He drew his lip between his teeth, a quick glance cast down your frame. “Am I permitted to touch you?”

“Yes.”

He held a cautious hand over your heaving chest. “Here?”

You nodded; his hand swept to your tummy, still at a hover. “Here?”

“Y— Yes.”

He hummed, then held over the curve of your waist, no contact made and yet electricity flitted between the inches. “Here?”

“Anywhere,” you breathed, defeated, a wreck. “Touch me anywhere. Everywhere. Please.”

Minho grinned, the silver ripple of his eyes flashing smug victory. A hand under your chin tilted your head back to present wanting lips, and when he kissed you, all else faded from existence. Near painfully soft was the first explorative brush, the man inclined to feel out your acclaimed desire— when you curled a grip to his shirt, he indulged you deeply, locking plush lips with yours and taking what he—unbeknownst to you—had already decided was his to covet. Bursts of white-hot delight rendered you breathless and dizzy, and when he broke off, you thought only of more.

“Swear to me that you’ll be mine,” he said, voice a thick and husky rasp.

“Minho...”

“Swear it,” he pressed. “Or this goes no further.”

The quiet promise was made in all but an instant, “I swear,” but even tight in his arms it was akin to stepping from a cold and slippery cliff; you felt to be falling, rescinding all control and handing it to this man that you knew nothing of, but craved like water to a dying man.

With a groan of delight, Minho swept you from the wall and about to the bed, where he laid you down and followed your form. Having no such experience with intimacy save for what the pages of your novels told, your expectations were none. The wanton urges held dominion, your chastity looking on in resigned approval as he smothered your neck and throat with attention, lavished your body with his touch, stripped you of all that hindered his touching your skin. In the warm light of the late afternoon, you laid naked beneath him, bared and as vulnerable as ever a soul may be. Minho looked at you, his gentle eyes seeming more so infinite with the awakening of intimacy; soft, patient hands canvassed your skin— waist, hips and thighs. Gentle, moist lips worshipped you at fingers, toes and lips, such reverent attention that swelled your heart to near bursting.

“You’ve never laid with a man before?”

A giggle bubbled out before you could stop it. Minho cocked his head questioningly.

“S— Sorry,” you mumbled. “No. I haven’t. But…” You hesitated, wondered on the timing, then asked anyway. “Did you have to ask me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like a nineteenth century suitor,” you laughed.

Minho grinned and shook his head, seemingly embarrassed. “Sorry,” he chuckled. “I forget sometimes.”

You ran your hands over his. “Forget what?”

For a long moment, he merely admired how your fingers slotted together. He opened his mouth as though to speak, but instead took a deep breath, and smiled once more. “Nothing.”

His kiss this time was insistent, but gentle. The exchange soon forgotten, work was made of stripping him, the act itself seeming dreamlike the more of him was revealed. Skin smooth and flawless, the complexion of which was so deep and rich a healthy glow, it made you shy to touch it. Clothing removed and tossed aside, the naked sight of him was entirely reminiscent of something— something you could not quite put your finger on, but that nagged at the back of your mind.

He returned to you, all silken warmth and firm in the right places. Between your open legs he settled, your inhibitions melting with his attention— kisses and careful touches, each one further devolving until he could no longer exact patience. He touched you where most you ached, assessing your every expression.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he whispered, lips to lips, soft ministrations over your naked centre eliciting groan after whimper. Slow and controlled, he rubbed you, then parted you to run a finger through the wetness. He shuddered and drew tight, a firm kiss pressed to your mouth.

“So beautiful,” he mumbled, wet digits circling you once more. “You’ll make the perfect companion.”

Too far gone to give much consideration to the perplexment his words instilled, you could only cling to him and wave the ride of euphoria as it flooded you, one molten lash after another. Was it normal to be so immediately aroused by so minimal a touch? Normal to feel like body might split from soul after only minutes of such stimulation?

“Don’t fight it. I’ll guide you through it, darling.” He kissed your bared throat. “Mhm, just like that. Give yourself over to it—”

“Ngh, Min, please—”

“Yes, fuck.” He quickened his motions, a gentle but rapid flurry of sensation against your throbbing centre. Thighs parted wider still for yet more of what he gave, you writhed in desperation, panted like a possessed creature, gave in to what he beckoned out of you. With a cry of delight and no shred of a complex, you trembled violently through the orgasm, felt yourself coming undone on the man’s fingers. Minho hummed and kissed your cheeks, your chin, your forehead, ever patient until the violence had subsided and only your tender panting remained. He ran a soft, light finger through your dripping sex. 

“You’re ready for me,” he muttered, and closed the gap between your bodies.

Spent but still yearning, it seemed almost too natural to open to him and trap him between your thighs. Minho smiled as though with pride, angling himself just so that the formerly observed ‘third leg’ could be seen from your laying position— a most intimidating sight, but one that had you clenching around air. Minho took himself in hand, the girth such that even he struggled to maintain a whole grip. A slow drag from his base and over thick, smooth shaft to blushed tip, and he sucked in air through his teeth, let slip a gravelly groan.

“Can you take me, darling?” he asked softly. “All of me?”

Your weak nod in place of words seemed somehow to dissatisfy him, but all the same, he kissed you tenderly. Tracing the line of his body with trembling hands as he aligned himself, the breaching prod stretching you, you drew tight with a gasp. Minho hissed and the silver of his eyes swirled intensely, each inch that he sunk seeming to exacerbate it; pebbles to rock pools.

“S— Slowly,” you pleaded, the warm soreness of his entrance only just beginning to turn dull ache. “Please.”

“I have you, darling. Trust me.”

Fully sheathed and with his hips cradled tightly to your body, he began to move a slow pace. Such bizarre sensation to feel so thoroughly full, almost sated, on the brink of being driven mad.

“Okay?” he breathed, weight on his arms to better assess you.

You nodded. “Yes. K— Keep going.”

Drawing his lip between his teeth, he maintained the motions, the mattress beneath you creaking its rhythmic complaint. Transfixed to where your bodies connected, Minho’s attention diverted, you explored the curious shimmer to his skin as he moved— perhaps it was the fading sunlight, the evening rolling in with its tricks. It seemed as though tiny rivers of silver moved beneath his skin and through his veins, each one snaking beautifully up his arms, over his shoulders, down his chest to— His chest. How had you not noticed it until now? Amidst the otherworldly perfection there sat the smallest of blemishes, faded purple and gently rounded. Proof that he was indeed real, for over the latter minutes you might have begun to doubt it.

Heart pounding and rapidly approaching yet another crisis of heavenly delight, you brought your middle and index finger together, and by instinct, pressed them to the spot that was now not only familiar to you, but that joined the fragmented pieces of puzzle.

It was a perfect match.

Minho, seemingly oblivious, grunted your name, his rhythm now devolved to a frantic rut. He collapsed atop you, held your warmth close, the smooth drive of his thickness made blissfully easy by the second orgasm he gifted that in turn brought on his own— he shivered and clung to you, words of praise and nonsense both flitting from his bitten lips.

The afterglow was as intense and intimate as the act itself, for Minho gently attended to you, putting you together as he so expressed a wish to. He kept you near to his side, curled up, and whispered stories that you soon forgot in contented, restful slumber.

What you would not soon forget, however, was the truth newly discovered.

The angel had returned to you.

--

Minho now profoundly understood what it was the mortal poets clamoured so desperately to capture.

It was with alarming clarity that he realised he had undertaken his duties as the God of Love with no real concept of what love actually was or could be— such a spectacular thing could not be wrested into something simple; something bite-sized and digestible. All his life he had been casting his arrows and looking on warmly as mortals embraced and made love. He heard their romantic declarations and loving promises with the sort of fond understanding a parent might have for their babbling toddler, and gave it no more consideration than that.

How naïve and foolish he had been. How much he’d missed out on! He dreaded to even think of it now, and cursed his aloofness to the power of what he so easily commanded. Love, he had realised, was the whole point. Powerful enough to fell entire kingdoms, but gentle enough to soothe the most septic of wounds. Wondrous and warm yet cutting and cold, the faces of love were mortally unpredictable, and therein laid its allure.

Minho looked to the future; he had failed in his quest, that much was without question, and could not return to heaven if he wanted to. His mother’s wrath would be terrible, and he was aware enough of his own strengths to know that a conflict with Aphrodite would sign off on his demise, blood or not. And all of that was without the terrible considerations of what she might do to his beloved.

There was nothing for it. He had to do something, and there was no way around it being drastic.

No way around any of it, now that the God of Love was in love.

--

Had you been informed several weeks ago that you’d be engaged in an illicit affair with a man you started out detesting, you’d have cried insanity.

Still; that was the truth of things, and waking next to him after what constituted your first night with any man was not half as terrible as you might once have believed. You had marvelled, mostly. All over again. That he had wanted you at all was mystifying, but when he awoke to find you right where he’d left you, he had proved his want all over again.

A week continued just like this, with not so much discussion as heated, stolen moments. You pleaded that what you were doing be kept under wraps, for the attention he commanded was not something you sought. Begrudgingly, he had acquiesced, but made it known that one day he would show you off to all who came within distance.

This night, he reposed under the stream of pale moonlight that shone through your window; following exertions you had slept straight through the evening and to the small hours. The smooth curve of his lean back disappeared beneath your sheets, his muscled leg hung out and over the bed. Plush lips utterly relaxed and face framed by silky strands of raven black, it struck you once again just how—while unthinkably beautiful—very normal he looked like this. Only when he opened his eyes and mouth did it become clear that he existed on a plane above and beyond other simple people, and while unsure of the finer details, the quirky qualities he possessed had begun to vibrantly outshine those things about him that once irked. He was boastful, yes, and terribly proud. He spoke before he gave much (any) thought and had little regard for consequences, both for himself and those around him.

But he was the very spirit of adventure. Thrillingly spontaneous and occasionally reckless, he dragged you out from under your books and away from your comfort zone, making it so that he instead became a security blanket, for wherever he was, there was safety. The wild promises he made ranged from a lifetime of wealth and happiness with him to taking you around the world. Well intended, of course, but ultimately too fantastical to ever truly believe. Whatever this was and for however long it would last, it wasn’t so wrong to enjoy it.

Led by the hand of desire, you reached out to touch him. A gentle trace down the slope of his shoulder and over the curve of his smooth back, firm under your fingers. You thought of the first time you touched him, before you’d even spoken so much as a word to each other. How he seemed the most beautiful creature your dreams had ever chanced to conjure, for that was what you’d believed him to be— a being born of pure gold, floating on magnificent white wings.

But this man was no dream. He was something else entirely.

A soft murmur of breath, and Minho’s eyes cracked open slowly. Calm pools of silver looked upon you, stirring with love. He smiled softly.

“Who are you?” you whispered.

His smile faded, yet he did not move. He blinked sleepily, slowly.

“You know who I am,” he said quietly. “I told you.”

“The God of Love?”

He nodded, just barely.

“Sent here to curse me for being too beautiful?”

He nodded again.

“By your mother?”

“The Goddess Aphrodite.”

The room was silent. There was no urge to laugh. No stroke of cold disbelief. No terrible fear or suggestion of mockery or anything other than a wave of acceptance, bathed in cold, silver light.

A God.

He was a God.

“Why me?” you whispered.

Minho puffed a soft breath through his nose. Amused, perhaps, by your immediate acquiescence.

“I’m nobody,” you added.

He lifted his head from the pillow, propped himself up by elbow. “Do you truly believe that, or are you being modest?”

You blinked at him, the truth of it in your eyes. He sighed gently, took your hand across the bed.

“You are the most beautiful woman to ever have lived,” he said quietly, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Kind of heart and exquisite of soul, you outshine everything and everyone around you. You were born of a God—”

“What?”

“So I suspect, anyway. I intend to find out for certain. But I do not think your mother was entirely mad with her stories.”

You balked at him. “You’re saying she was telling the truth?”

“Perhaps. A version of it, as she remembers it. Mortal memories are ephemeral things. Regardless, your beauty is divine, and that cannot be disputed.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m not,” he chuckled. “Had you lived several thousands of years ago, it would have been you that all of Greece warred over and that the Trojans bled to defend. You are fated to be revered and worshipped for your beauty, more so than even that of my mother’s. This is why she sent me. To shoot you with my arrows and curse you to love something so foul it would disgrace you and push you into a solitary life.”

You swallowed over the disbelief— for all your readiness to hear him out, you found yourself stumped.

“You are invulnerable to my arrows. You see beyond the veil of my mortal disguise. You were able to touch me in my true form. Only divine blood could grant such boons.”

“How do you know I'm invulnerable?” you asked, and on his torn face saw the obvious truth of it. You mumbled a quiet, “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“Talk about a lucky escape.” You tried to laugh, though it was a bittersweet reveal. He was only doing as instructed, you supposed. Things were different then, too. He didn’t know you. Didn’t love you.

Keen to change the subject, you did just that.

“Your mother—”

“Aphrodite.”

“R— Right. Aphrodite.” You cleared your throat. “Why would she want to curse me like that? If what you’re saying is true, it’s hardly my fault.”

Minho shrugged. “The Olympians care little for semantics. I love my mother, but she is as susceptible to vanity as anyone. It wouldn’t be the first time that jealousy has driven her hand.”

“But—” You leaned into him. “This is the twenty first century. Things like that don’t happen anymore. I mean; revering and worshipping, or whatever.”

“Don’t they? What are celebrities and influencers if not modern-day Gods? Politicians if not modern-day kings? Wealth and fame might no longer be measured in cattle and heroic deeds, but it is as attainable today as ever it was, and the power it bestows can be terrible. Armies rallied at the tap of a button. Lives ended at the publishing of a post. Times are different, yes, but fundamentally, mortals will never change.”

An element of truth to his words, you shrunk back against the pillows, head spinning. To suppose that it was all real was one thing— to suppose that it was all happening to you, was another.

Minho kissed your hand softly. “Don’t fret, darling. You are perfectly safe with me.”

“How can that be true? You just told me that Aphrodite has it in for me. That Aphrodite is real. That all the Gods are real.”

Minho hummed. “It’s a lot to absorb, I know. But it is fact. As the world changed and mortals developed beyond what even we predicted, we were lost to them. They turned from us. Nobody prays to us anymore. There are no sacrifices or festivals. Our names are told in stories and that is our legacy. We—our flesh and blood and everything that makes us—are myths.”

He whispered the last word, a sadness in his eyes that tugged insistently at your heart. You leaned back to him, pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“You feel real enough to me,” you mumbled.

Minho smiled slightly. “I am glad of that.” And turned into you, a palm on your cheek bringing you back for a firmer kiss. With a soft gasp that turned moan on the sensation of his slick tongue slipping into your mouth, you fell willingly into the hazed content that the God of Love seemed so exclusively able to invoke. Dragged across the bed until tucked underneath him, he shadowed you from the moonlight, raven locks tickling your cheeks. Keen hands slipped down your body to tenderly part your legs, the suggestion of his arousal prodding thigh until he, quite familiarly and with a chaste kiss to your throat, sunk inside you. Clinging to his broad shoulders and moving with the man, for you had come to know the paces he enjoyed, Minho filled you gently and slipped away with each controlled thrust. Silver eyes told a maelstrom of truths and sadnesses that his long years of life had portended, and by the gradual incline of coming undone at his ministrations, you saw them all. He watched your descent into euphoria, and you saw them all— the lovers, the souls, the stories, the worlds that had been touched by Eros’s arrows, generations of lives built on their enchanted tips, civilisations birthed and ended by the snap of his bow string. An existence spent between heaven and Earth of unspeakable loneliness propelled by gratification of servitude brought you to hot tears amidst the release of crisis.

And you saw that he would have been alone in perpetuity, were it not for you.

--

Minho had a plan.

The beginnings of a plan, anyway, which he thought ought to count for something.

He could not call on any of his aunts or uncles for aid without alerting Aphrodite to the state of things, and so he turned his thoughts to what he could do. The things he possessed. After only moments of consideration, he broke into absurd and near hysterical laughter. How foolish he had been, once again! How could he forget?! Of all the things to slip his mind and fall into obscurity!

He had a palace.

Eros’s famed sky palace of jewels and gold— that was what he possessed. That was where he could go, for it was too removed from heaven for Aphrodite or any of the other Gods to be bothered making the journey. They would be left alone there. It was perfect.

The idea had come to him at high noon— a most inconvenient time for ideas to spring upon one. Unable to bear a second’s delay, he burst out of Goodhart and sprinted across campus, drawing heads and attention from all he passed. When he reached the lecture hall, he swept from room to room, offering breathless apologies to the bewildered occupants for his intrusion on finding her in none of them, much to his irritation. It stood to reason that the last he checked should be the place he found her: she looked up from her notebook, mortification freezing her from neck to forehead.

“Excuse me.” Minho flashed a dazzling smile at the Professor, who for all his usual nettlesome temperament, stood flabbergasted.

He strode confidently across the hall and through the projector’s beam, his shadow casting over the bullet point analysis of Austen’s pathetic fallacy. All eyes followed as he approached her and made quick work of closing her notebook, plucking her pen from her hand and grabbing her backpack.

“I’ll just be taking this one,” he said to the Professor, taking her wrist with a gentle tug.

“What the hell are you doing?” she hissed, the eyes of her peers scalding her back.

Wordlessly, he stole her from the lecture hall, and said not a thing until they were out of the building and on the sun-warmed lawn, where he yanked her into a strong embrace.

“M— Minho!”

“I have it worked out, darling,” he said excitedly. “I have it all worked out!” He relinquished her to arm’s length, her flustered state inspiring urges that he swallowed down. “I know where we can go.”

“Go?” she repeated, confused. “Why would we go anywhere?”

“We can’t stay here. We spoke of this last night. My mother is—”

“You said you’d protect me from her. You didn’t say anything about needing to go anywhere.”

“I thought that was implied, darling. I assumed you understood.”

“Understood what?”

“That yes, I will do my utmost to keep you safe, but not even my power can match that of Aphrodite. If she discovers my betrayal, she’ll stop at nothing to hunt us down.”

The fluster of her condition gave way to dreaded realisation; Minho saw it in her eyes, the panic.

“There is one place we will be entirely safe,” he quickly said. “Somewhere she nor any of the other Olympians can set foot.”

“Where?”

“My palace.”

“P— Palace?”

Minho nodded in earnest. “Yes, darling. It is protected, its gates open only to me. We will want for nothing there. We can be together, undisturbed.”

She looked around, as though lost. “But I...” Her voice was weak. “I can’t just leave everything. This is my life.”

“I am your life now, darling. There’s nothing here for you.”

“Nothing here for me?” Her features drew tense and she stepped away from him, shrugging off his touch. “You're saying all this is pointless? Everything I've tried to achieve is worthless?”

“N— No, I simply mean that—”

“I know what you mean. I have no-one to miss me if I should disappear.” Her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped her arms around herself. “And what if I stayed? Would all those worshippers you promised me show up? Would I have something then?”

Minho’s heart ached impossibly; how careless he had once again been. One would think him used to the fragility of mortal hearts by now.

“It’s too late,” he said sorrowfully. “My love for you is a betrayal to my mother. If you stay, she will subject you to terrible punishment before anything ordained for you ever happens. If you come with me...” He reached out to her tenderly, a hand on her trembling shoulder. “If you come with me, I can spare you that fate. You do not have to engage with me or love me in return, but I hope that you will at least allow me to make reparations for taking you away from all you know. I can give you a most beautiful life. I can show you such things as your books will never describe. I can dedicate myself to you, soul and all, and be whatever you wish me to be.”

Tears streaked her cheeks, each one a dagger to Minho’s composure.

“You will never be alone again,” he whispered. “This, I swear to you.”

--

Why were you even thinking about it?

The earth-shatteringly handsome God of Love—Eros himself—loved you. He wished to take you away to his sky-dwelling palace, where he would serve you until your mortal days gave out. He wished to dedicate himself to you. How many women could claim to be on the receiving end of such implacable devotion? How many women turned away from it, especially when the love was reciprocated?

Thus you asked yourself the question again— why were you even thinking about it?

The conflict that raged within you was that of head and heart. On the side of romance and such emotion as brought you to tears, your heart cried out. ‘Go with him,’ it pleaded. ‘See all that he’s promised you. Take a chance on the extraordinary. Be the main character, just this once. You can never go back to life without him now— how it hurts to even imagine it. Only immovable darkness is left in place of such radiant light, and his light is what you must stay in forever. You love him, foolish girl. Go with him!’

On the side of reason and familiar doubt that was in some ways easier to hear, your head told other truths. ‘Run from him,” it commanded. ‘It is madness to believe any of this. What you saw that night was a hallucination; you were overtired. Overworked. He lies to you. Recall what he did to you. He plays on your vulnerability and would have you tripping over yourself for some impossible fairytale that cannot be real. It cannot be real. Screw your head back on, foolish girl. Run from him!’

With a night spent alone you hoped to come upon some form of clarity, but instead spent the long and empty hours tossing and turning, floating between despair and joy. You were at a crossroads, and the next decision you made would forever change the course of your life.

Go, or stay.

Live, or suffer.

Love, or mourn.

--

By the guiding, formless hand of the West wind, Zephyrus, Minho always found his way to his sky palace.

It would be a fruitless task to try to explain, in mortal terms, just where the palace was located. Not even Minho could, had he tried. That was why he needed gentle Zephyrus. Rather, it existed on a plane between those of heaven and Earth, in a pellucid sky of cloudless wonder that cycled through dreamy days and starry, moon-filled nights. The palace seemed always as though to be drifting along, warmed by streams of hot, shimmering air that kept it afloat. Its jewel-encrusted and gold-plated high walls caught the brilliant peaches and pinks of sweet Eos, Goddess of the Dawn. A reflective moat of the clearest still water kept the palace enclosed, magnificent fish and regal sea creatures having made their homes there. Great birds with feathers of virgin white and onyx black soared the length of the battlements and swooped through the palace arches, attracted by the glittering structure. It mattered not how many times Minho visited. It always took his breath away.

He looked at the girl bundled in his arms, her eyes still tightly closed, her head still buried in his chest. His white wings enclosed her safely, kept her from Zephyrus’s inherent chill.

“Won’t you look, darling?” he asked softly.

“No.”

He stifled a chuckle; how endearing she was.

“This would be one of those wonderful things I told you about.”

She cracked open one eye, just barely.

“You’re perfectly safe,” he assured her.

With a swallow and a timid nod, she turned her head out to the view, and Minho saw immediately how her eyes welled up with tears as they caught the rising light. He dared to imagine Eos might be making a special show of things, just for them, for the sky was ablaze with a rich and vibrant beauty the likes of which he’d never seen. Oranges and deep pinks melted into variegated crimson, the horizon seeming as though to glow. The palace was iridescent with life, it walls and towers reflecting and refracting the dawn in such a resplendent spectacle of colour, Minho was sure she would never forget this moment.

She maintained silent awe until Zephyrus had safely escorted them to the palace steps: the West wind twirled and whirled around them, hugging her warmly before departing, much to her delight. She kept close to Minho as the joy wore off, her fear of the near edge demanding it, yet it was her resolve that warned her from holding his hand, from taking comfort.

Such were her terms.

Such was Minho’s pain.

--

Take a chance on the extraordinary, your heart had said.

So it was that ‘extraordinary’ fell catastrophically short of describing what it was you now looked at: an opulent crystal palace at home in the sky, a testament to all things fantastical and impossible. The majesty of it was almost enough to take away from the inherent unease of being so high up; if this was even high, for it hadn’t escaped your notice during the journey that you hadn’t so much travelled up as through. Through what, you were surely unqualified to say, but what was certain was that this place was so removed from what you knew to be true of physics and gravity—indeed any temporal rule—it was pointless to think on it too much.

Minho had indeed promised to show you incredible things, oblivious that he himself was one of them. His feathery wings closed on his back, his raven hair fluttered in the warm breeze. He led you up the crystal steps to a vast arched gateway manned by—you rubbed your eyes—floating spears?

“Don’t be alarmed,” he said intuitively. “They will do you no harm. They’re here to protect us.”

As you passed by them, adequately mystified, the spears hopped and jerked as though in salute, their steel tips polished to a fine, sharp edge. Over the glass drawbridge he took you, a river of water so clear running beneath, you could see every pore of your own reflection in it. Creatures swum in the calm currents, fish and eels and octopi, their scales and skin of such stunning purple and deep green, it amazed you to look at. As you approached the tall and gilded palace doors, they opened before you, a swarm of floating brooms and mops and hat stands and trolleys and all other manner of furniture descending upon you with swift elegance.

On your fright, Minho held a hand up. Everything stopped, and sprung to attention in a neat, formal line.

“Darling.” He turned to you. “These are our attendants.”

You blinked at him; your head was beginning to hurt.

“They are invisible to our eyes,” he added softly. “It was my wish that we be left to our own devices. Entirely undisturbed. Just the two of us.”

“So there are... people? Holding those?”

Minho nodded. “Of a fashion, yes.”

You looked around him to the patient line, where mops fluttered and trolley wheels spun in anticipation. You weren’t sure you wanted to know what ‘of a fashion’ even meant.

“I would have had us here alone, but the palace takes some looking after,” he said. “Not to mention your own needs to be attended to.”

“I can look after myself. I don’t need—”

“Please.” He moved as though to take your hand, but stopped himself short. The strength with which such a small thing smarted seemed ludicrous, yet you held no grounds for complaint. He was only doing as instructed.

“I would like to make sure the very best care is on hand for you. Allow me that,” he said quietly.

At your small nod, he turned away, wings unfurling gently as he entered his palace. The peach light that so radiantly streaked the sky haloed him and made him a breathtaking vision. Was a God truly so different from an angel?

The palace interior was as extravagant as the exterior, its vast halls encrusted with sapphires and aquamarine, pearls and diamonds, emeralds and topaz all trimmed with gold. Wall sconces of blue flame bathed all in a glorious light, the high ceilings finished with intricate murals so lovingly painted, it made your heart ache to simply look upon the heavenly scenes they depicted with Eros at their centre.

Escorted dutifully by the same two floating spears that had seen you inside, Minho guided you through the winding halls. He held them at the door he had led you to with no more than a look.

“These are your private chambers,” he said once inside. They were homelier than what you’d thus far seen, finished with soft furnishings, blankets and comforts and a more natural tone of light offered by long windows and an open fire. It was the fire that you were in the midst of admiring, when a dainty teacup flew up and in front of your face, bringing you to a shriek.

“Your attendants will keep you here,” Minho laughed. “Forgive them. They’re excited.”

The teacup rattled on its saucer, as though in agreement.

“It has been some time since anyone’s resided here,” he added.

Residing here. You were to live here. In this place between places, with a thousands-year old God. It seemed that only now this fact began to dawn on you, for a chill realisation swept over and extinguished the bewilderment that hitherto kept you together.

Minho watched you carefully, distance maintained as he stood at the door. You looked through the grand window, out over the endless sea of multicoloured sky.

“You promised me an answer,” he eventually said.

Your heart sank.

“I know.”

“Will you give it?”

You chewed your inner cheek, tracing the lines of wispy cloud that floated by.

“I have shown you the palace,” Minho said. “I have respected your boundaries of affection, despite how it pains me to act as though we are no more than friends. I have revealed my true form to you. I have done everything you’ve asked.”

“I know.”

“And so? Is your mind decided?”

Exasperated, you turned to him. The God of Love with so sorrowful a look of distress on his handsome face, it made you want to weep.

“My mind has been decided all along,” you said simply. “How could I ever say no to you?”

His silvery eyes lit up. “You mean...?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “I’ll stay.”

Without a second thought, the God of Love on his great, white wings surged across the space and caught you in his strong arms. He braced you against the pristine glass in an embrace of ignited passion, the gasp you emitted was devoured by his hungry mouth.

“How you infuriate me,” he mumbled between kisses, the slick of his tongue wetting your lips. “You have no idea the depth of the madness you would drive me to.”

“I needed time,” you breathed. “To get my head straight, to process it all.”

“I know, darling. I would have given you all the time that time itself possessed if I could.”

You kissed him gently. “Liar.”

He grinned, and with a low chuckle enclosed you in his magnificent wings, the feathers reaching around and curling under you to lift you from the ground. Poised on them as the most comfortable of elegant chairs, the God so close in your space and stood between your open thighs, it became soon apparent the type of mood that descended on him. An inferno of want tainted the silver of his eyes, his deep, gold complexion shimmering with the lust that made Eros so feral as to tear your shirt open and relieve you of your jeans, all that he might touch your skin— finally. Secured in the space of his heat, helpless but to succumb, the dainty cloth that hovered about his hips was torn away to reveal the intimidating girth of what he offered, sprung proud and hard. Lightheaded and too aroused to think much of consequence—you weren’t strictly here alone, after all—you clung to the slope of his shoulders as he aligned himself and with a sharp intake of breath, steadily sunk inside you. Groaning through the sensation of fullness, your delight was caught by his mouth on yours.

“You were made for me, my love,” he whispered. “It is you and I, until the end of time.”

“Minho—”

“Hush, dearest girl. Let me pleasure you the way your tender heart so deserves. Let me serve you as I crave to. Nothing makes me feel so alive as when you allow me inside you like this, sweet thing. Feel me, darling. Feel all of me.”

Sealed with a kiss, the God of Love thrust himself upon you, the slick drive made so much easier by your own steeped arousal. Yet it was not simply lust that brought you to gasps and the stinging tell of tears— to accept such pure and unconditional love, to accept that it was offered so readily, to accept that a creature so objectively perfect as him could be possessed of affection for you— sky palaces and jewels and divine landscapes could not compare to that impossibility.

So it is, the start of your new life.

So it was, in years to come, that the Goddess Aphrodite forgave her errant son and welcomed the mortal girl, gifting to her immortality on her wedding day.

So it ever shall be, that the tamed Eros and his beloved spend their sun-warmed, endless days reigning over love’s intricacies, granting to mortals the divine bliss they themselves found in one another.

One precious heart at a time.

thus marks my last offering for the skz tropes collab! i really hope you enjoyed. this was by far my favourite of the bunch. if you could be kind enough to comment or even buy me a coffee as thanks for the 20k read, i would be super grateful. mica x

𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙨𝙚 𝙡𝙞𝙠𝙚, 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜, 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙨 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙢𝙚 >

𝙝𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙖 𝙣𝙞𝙘𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙? 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ♡ >

𝙘𝙝𝙚𝙘𝙠 𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙛 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙠𝙯 𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚 𝙩𝙧𝙤𝙥𝙚𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 ♡ >

TO THE BOY : who took my v card

PAIRING : heeseung x fem!reader

GENRE : smut, protected sex, fingering, cunnilingus, a lot of kissing and making out, friends to lovers, fluff, angst, mentions of isa (stayc), sungchan (nct) and jin (bts), mentions of food, swimming, partying, usage of nicknames (baby, sweetheart).

WC : 12.5k words

SYNOPSIS : you had first attended the summer camp at the age of thirteen, and since then, heeseung had been your companion and partner in crime, supporting you in every one of your rendezvous at the camp each year. now, at the age of eighteen, you are attending it for the last time, and he promises to make these three weeks an unforgettable experience for you — even if it includes breaking a few rules.

WARNING : 18+ content, minors dni.

A/N : hello pretty people <3 i'm finally here with the first installment of to all the boys series! this is by far the longest fic i've written and i sincerely hope that y'all enjoy it! thank you sm for 5k+ followers :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D iloveyou all <3

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The briny scent of salt along with the light breeze flowing through your hair brought you back to reality. It wasn't just one of your dream full of excitement anymore, you were finally at the summer camp you'd been attending since you were thirteen.

Nothing's changed, the place is still lively as ever, the beach clean and ready to be used by campers, the small blue butterflies fluttering their wings in excitement, welcoming you back.

The glistening sunlight atop the clean ocean water had mesmerized you for a while, and you didn't know how long you had spent watching how it reflected off the water.

A hand on your shoulder brought you back to reality, you turned around to see Isa with her gummy smile on display, the same one which made it easy for you to befriend her when you first came here.

“Looking for Hee?” her grin was teasing, which made you pout in the slightest way possible.

You indeed were looking for the said man, the guy who you had labelled as your ‘camp best friend’, the guy who had spent your past five summers with, the guy who made you fall in love with the freshness of summer — Lee Heeseung.

“Yeah, he should've been here by now,” you looked around, completely ignoring the meaning behind her question.

You could see campers all over the bus stop, getting their luggage bags off and waiting with their newfound friends — in the case of younger, new campers and the others reuniting with their old ones — just like you and Isa.

Your hand automatically went up to your forehead, acting as a shield while you squinted your eyes, trying to find where your other friends were while Isa poked your side with a pout, wanting your attention at this particular moment.

You engulfed her in a side hug, which made her smile, feeling accomplished with her motive. That's exactly when the camp counsellor blew his whistle as he stood on the levelled surface of the stool, grabbing everyone's attention.

The soft murmurs and the sound of luggage dragging were heard before everyone stood around him in a circle while you were still distracted, your eyes still in search of a particular someone.

“Oh! We would love to see a little enthusiasm here,” he stated sarcastically, with a playful smile as he put his hand on his ear. Some people clapped while some screamed in order to give him the excitement he wanted which made you and Isa smile.

Mr. Kim Seokjin, your camp counsellor, smiled and bend down further. His voice increased a pitch before he screamed, “I can't hear you guys,” and suddenly the excited screams pitched a level high as well, you joining in by hooting.

He went over all the rules, some causing a series of sighs and boos considering how it wasn't allowed for the campers to leave their cabins after ten pm maximum.

Both of you knew the rules by heart despite breaking them tons of times, never been caught once though. After the last rule was announced, he welcomed everyone yet again and demanded another set of cheering.

You were about to join in but a deep-voiced hollered just near your ear made you stop in your tracks, a strong hand wrapped around your waist just in time to prevent you from tripping over.

The culprit for both? Lee Heeseung. He looked at you with shining eyes while a boyish laugh escaped his mouth as he pulled you in a hug.

You hugged him back after overcoming the initial shock of him surprising you. Your little jumps only added to his chuckle as your heart warmed at the silly prank of your friend.

It was comforting, home-like almost. Your eyes shut down for a second as you took it all in before opening and stepping back with a smile.

He mirrored your action, looking at you up and down while you observed him too. His outfit wasn't over the top yet it looked like it was made just for him. A pair of long black shorts along with a light blue, half-sleeved shirt and a pair of sports shoes, he looked like a child. His tousled, slightly wavy hair only added to your amusement.

“Did I scare you, y/n?” his smile was teasing.

You simply shook your head with a scrunched nose, not admitting the fact that you indeed were startled for a moment to him. The comfort of his embrace did make you feel at ease.

Isa only smiled from a distance, nodding slightly as a ‘hello’ to Hee, which he returned, before leaving you two to catch up with each other.

You both didn't care about the commotion all around you as everyone rushed to get settled in their respective cabins, only walking slowly while dragging your luggage towards your own room.

“Missed me?” he was in the mood to tease you, his lips curving up as he saw you roll your eyes.

“Of course not, Lee.”

“Too bad, cause I missed you a lot.”

His words were filled with sincerity, you could tell it without even looking at him and you didn't want to look at him, mostly because you were aware of his eyes on you, waiting for a reaction but you stayed mum.

That was the first time he admitted that he missed you. The way you both communicated was honestly not the best, only texting when you both were at the camp and never afterwards. It was like an unspoken fact how you both had a shy interior, conveying feelings, even the platonic ones, got hard for you at times.

So seeing Heeseung being free-spirited and jolly made you want to return his energy.

“I missed you too.” you softly spoke and he lit up like a Christmas tree.

For the rest of your five-minute walk, you talked about how this place looked as lively as ever, Heeseung also filled you in about his university admissions and the well being of his family, you telling him the same.

You stared at him the whole time he talked, observing his face which looked a lot more mature than last year.

His jawline looked sharper, his adam's apple more prominent and attractive. His face was well sculpted which you could easily compare to that of a Greek God and youthful skin shone brightly as his cherry lips continued to move while his nose looked pointy enough to make you want to want to poke it, specs perfectly perched on it.

“Earth to y/n.” he waved his big hands in front of your face, which widened your eyes and successfully snapped you out of your admiration session.

“I'm sorry, what were you saying?” you asked sheepishly and he only gave you a smile in return.

“I was talking about how it's our last year here,” he pouted and you stopped with realisation.

You won't ever see Heeseung after these weeks get over. Or maybe you would, you never know.

“Oh—”

“Don't worry, we'll make it worth it,” he said, holding your hand and giving it a light squeeze.

A small smile settled on your face, “We will.” and you squeezed his hand back.

It took you two hours to finally settle in and unpack your clothes, make your little cabin more lively with your books on the shelf and Isa's music player accompanied the calm ambience. Isa seemed mysterious to you, she loved to disappear during the night, claiming to have found a treehouse in the woods where she liked to sleep.

That's what she told you, at least.

To uplift the spirits of the newcomers, a day one party was organised, just exactly how it happens each year. Only, the number of campers looked more than the usual, the camp had a reputation now and hence the surge in-crowd.

Heeseung knocked on your door, he wanted to walk with you and catch up at the party. His cabin being just in front of yours made it even more convenient for him to reach you.

“You look great,” his compliment made you smile, your clothes were simply stylish, not too extravagant, just perfect for the night. Your outfit colour also complimented Heeseung's black shirt, making it seem like you two planned it beforehand.

“You don't look too bad yourself, Hee.” it had been a few hours and yet he had shown you his smile numerous times.

Isa joined you guys later with some more friends of yours, sitting together at a table while Mr. Jin had paused the DJ for a while, going on about the various activities you guys will be participating in during your stay at the sunshine camp.

Typical stuff, some of which you did each year with a few new additions here and there. He happily explained all the newly added information to you guys, everyone focusing on him. Some more than others as you could see the majority of the female population drooling over the twenty-nine-year-old instructor.

“—New musical equipment has been added, they're all kept in the new cabin, the one near mess hall—” your focus deviated for a second when Heeseung yawned, keeping his head on your shoulder.

You looked over at him and he kept his eyes focused on the front. The position was comforting so you ended up leaning against his head too, which made him bite his smile, the action that you conveniently missed.

“I can play the guitar for you now,” he whispered, remembering how he told you he played yet he couldn't show you due to lack of instruments.

“I'll look forward to it.” you looked at him looking at you, the proximity, however, made you look away first.

Heeseung had always been touchy with you, in a friendly way, of course. But it felt different this time. Maybe it was just the realisation that you won't be here next year, or maybe the fact that Heeseung had grown to have a subtle flirty nature.

The party went on afterwards, you drank a few carbonated drinks and had the snacks which you craved, also dancing with your group and getting to know a few new campers.

It was light and enjoyable, your cheeks hurt from how much you laughed at the horrible dance moves everyone kept showing, only Heeseung kept it minimal, his body rolls looking effortless.

Good at everything, that's what Heeseung was.

He also insisted to walk you and Isa back to your cabin, yours being a few steps away from his. You also acknowledged that his roommate, Sungchan, had nerdy abilities and always carried a book around, almost similar to what you did back at home.

He successfully had your attention after whining like a preschooler, Sungchan raising his brow at his behaviour but not questioning much.

It was normal that Lee Heeseung dropped you at your doorstep, wishing you a good night. But again, he had sworn to surprise you each moment he could.

“Where's my good night kiss?” he bent down to get on your eye level.

And that successfully stopped you from going inside, “What?” your eyes widened a fraction.

And his laugh bloomed up seeing your confused expression.

“I'm kidding—” he paused when you stood up straighter and planted a featherlight kiss on his cheekbone.

“Good night, Hee,” you stifled your laugh and rushed inside.

All he could do was stare at the closed door, his fingertips reaching to touch the area where you kissed him, his mouth soon curling up again, continuing his laugh from before.

And both of you slept with your heartbeats a little more faster than the usual. Why? It was a normal, friendly kiss after all. The kind only meant for teasing.

Because, if he can flirt, then so can you.

Two days had passed since that kiss incident took place and you both didn't acknowledge it the next day, continuing to work according to your activity schedule, being the best friends you were. And it was better that way. Heeseung didn't pull up any tricks in the meantime, maintaining harmony between you two.

And a majority of your friends were in the new music room, trying out the random instruments but you were here to listen to Heeseung play the guitar.

He held it professionally, tuning the strings as you all sat down surrounding him. He didn't mind the attention, especially when it concerned the thing he loved — music.

I'm so tired... by Lauv and Troye Sivan. That's what Heeseung had claimed to be his favourite song two summers back, and that's what he intended to play today.

Although, you had also discussed how he loved 'say you won't let go' by James Arthur. He called the song mainstream yet the genuine tone made it one of his favourites. “It's the feeling of longing, the need to tell someone how much you want them in your life.” he had said after deep thought, “That's cheesy.” you had laughed.

But you did agree.

But at this moment, his voice felt amazing as he sang for everyone, the small smile on his face while doing so made it even better.

His mellifluous voice filled the room, even the younger ones stopped to listen to his deep vocals hitting each note perfectly.

You had heard him humming to songs before but he never sang them in a full-fledged manner, always keeping it to himself or grinning saying how he'd want to be perfect for you to hear it.

And he defined perfection, his eyes kept coming back to see your face, and the way your mouth was agape made him feel proud for working on his vocal abilities.

He sat there, strumming his guitar while you all sang along until Sungchan suggested sitting outside, a bonfire would be the perfect add on to the fussy and warm vibe. You all agreed, setting everything up.

Yet again, Heeseung sat down with you, his face glowing with the cosy fire in front of you all.

You were too immersed, your mind fully invested in music and the booming laughter from the jokes your friends kept on making that you didn't hear your phone ring until Isa pointed it out.

You hurriedly excused yourself for, the caller was someone who rarely reached out to you. Heeseung's eyes followed you, observing your actions since you rarely got any call other than your family.

“Hello? Jake?” you asked, confused.

“Y/n! I hope I didn't disturb you.”

“Of course not! Is anything wrong though?”

“Yeah, I saw your potted plant, Mr. Pots, looking dry and sad on your window so I wondered if I can keep it with me till the time you return?”

Jake always paid attention to everything, so it made sense when he noticed your plant. And your heart swells with this small offer of his.

“Aren't you the sweetest? I'd love that, Jakey.”

A few more words were exchanged between you and your ‘neighbour cum childhood best friend turned friend’ before you ended the call, going back to sit down on the big log like seat surrounding the fire.

Heeseung had stopped singing by now, he was busy eating marshmallows with a pout.

“It's honestly sad how it's the first time I've properly heard you sing,” you looked at Heeseung who had a stuffed mouth.

“You've got the voice of an angel, Hee.”

Even in the dim lights, you could see a faint shade of red adorning the tip of his ears. It was evident how he was waiting for your compliment all this time.

He simply stuffed your mouth with a marshmallow, not knowing how to handle compliments well. You slapped his shoulder, trying not to laugh while chewing on the sweet treat.

“Where'd you go?” he asked you, diverting the topic.

“Oh, I got a call.” you shrugged.

“Boyfriend?”

Your eyes went wide first, then turned into crescents as you laughed at his guess.

“It was my neighbour!”

“The one you had a crush on?” he came closer.

You slapped his shoulder again.

“No, I did not! And I've been single all my life.” you leaned in while emphasizing on your sentence.

“You mean, you've never dated before?” he asked again to confirm your statement.

“Stop reminding me that I'm single, oh lord!”

“Good,” he whispered and you paused.

The scene might have looked like something straight out of a movie, your faces close enough for you to breathe in the same air and for a moment, you kept staring at each other until a voice snapped you back to reality, again.

“Just friends, huh?” Isa teased and everyone cheered, some kids looked confused while others smirked.

Your heart kept hammering in your chest, it was like you were the centre of attention for the majority of the day and, even though you did like to have the attention of your best friend, it made you flustered this very time. You weren't sure if you wanted to know the reason why.

Heeseung looked elsewhere, still smiling which confused you further. You glared at Isa before grabbing the marshmallow from Hee, getting comfortable once again.

Maybe this was your last shot at getting some romance before finals and college. Or maybe it was just a game. Either way, you were ready for both.

It had been a week since Heeseung played the guitar. The week was full of mixed signals. You weren't dense, it was evident what you were doing. His hugs were prolonged, and his protectiveness sprang out at the most random times, just like how he saved you from tripping three days back at the trek, holding you by your waist.

He didn't know what exactly he was doing, all he knew was how he loved to see you being a flustered mess around him, more when you retorted back with the same energy.

Flirting was something that came to him almost naturally, you wondered what this one year did to him. The shyness was still there, but his confidence almost overpowered it.

Exactly like now, he sat in front of you, the canoe just big enough to fit you both in. It was supposed to be a group activity where the instructor was supposed to be guiding all the canoes. But Heeseung had different plans.

And you had no objections, not when the sky above you looked majestic. It was like a canvas, the glittering water beneath made look like a picture-perfect scene, like diamonds shining beneath you. The faint hues of pink and purple covering with the delicate clouds.

Most of all, while you stared at the cotton candy-esque beauty in front of you, Heeseung spent his time staring at you instead.

“How did you find this place?” your eyes sparkled with awe, “It's beautiful.” it came out as a whisper.

He looked up, taking in the scene as well, “Found it last year, I've been wanting to show this to you ever since,” he paused, his gaze back on you again.

“And I agree. So beautiful.”

He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “You are beautiful.”

Your mouth opened and closed, your head tilted while you tried to articulate your current emotion into words.

“That's the first time you've called me that,” you spoke in a low voice, fiddling with your rings.

“That's not true,” he argued, “I've called you that a thousand times in my mind.”

You gulped down, speechless. The canoe kept still, only ever moving due to the subtle ripples in the water. He softly held your chin, making you look up at his glowing face, lip bitten to conceal his smile, “I mean it.”

“I—” you were cut short of your reply when your phone rang even in the area with low network connectivity.

Heeseung sat back, exhaling and looking elsewhere, you could have sworn it was the look of disappointment on his face.

“Isa, what's wrong?” you picked up the call, putting it on speaker.

“Where are you, y/n? The instructor figured two people were missing and now they're searching for you!” she informed you in a breath. “Come back as fast as possible.”

You both looked at each other before cussing.

“Shit.”

When you talked about breaking the rules, getting a punishment wasn't something you had planned along with it. You had rowed the boat back at an alarming speed, it wasn't each day when the students who've always been good, break the rules for the very first time. Or get caught breaking in your case.

Heeseung poked your cheek seeing you pout when you both got scolded for not following the rules. The lecture went on longer than you had anticipated. It further resulted in you both missing out on the bonfire session for the next night, and cleaning up the playground area. That's what the punishment slip read at least.

You both worked in silence, except for the usual humming from Heeseung, and you could have sworn his voice was therapeutic.

“Do you remember when it rained here?” you broke the silence, “And we ended up taking shelter under that tree.” you pointed it out at a distance.

“And you slept on my shoulder and caught cold later?” his face lit up with the memory.

You scrunched up your nose remembering how Heeseung stayed by your side the entire time, he was the epitome of purity two years back, so much that he even asked if he could touch you to help you sit straight.

“I was focusing more on the part where we engraved our initials on that very tree.” you both walked closer to it, the poorly carved heart along with one H and the other, your initial, came in view as he ran his thumb on it.

“Someone might mistake it for a lovers mark, with the heart and all, y'know?” he tilted his head back as mischief glowed in his eyes.

“You'd love that, won't you, Hee?”

“Oh I definitely would,” he bent down to your height yet again, filling you up with anticipation.

But he only bent down further, “Do you regret it?” Heeseung asked, completely changing the topic, picking up a plastic bottle and throwing it in his trash bag.

His question could have meant anything yet your mind knew exactly what he was talking about.

“Going out to see the prettiest sky with you? Never.” a smile adorned your face as you reminisced how enchanting the colours looked as they blended with each other.

“Even if it meant breaking the rules?” he looked at you expectantly.

“Even if it meant breaking the rules.”

Time kept on running, and it worried you, simply because your feelings conflicted and the clock was ticking away. The second week at the camp and your distress was showing, yet you somehow managed to keep up with your activities and duties, mentally reminding yourself to not lose your mind over a certain guy.

While it did seem like you were the only one panicking, even though you did a fantastic job of hiding it, the other party wasn't less. Heeseung, just like you, was at a war with his newfound feelings.

Again, you both weren't dumb to not realise what it was but, you chose to ignore it for the sake of your friendship, and the time — one and a half weeks.

You decided not to think about it anymore, going with the flow being the only good option in your opinion. And it provided you with great pleasure since Heeseung acted like his usual self, joyous and flirty, something that you almost craved at this very moment.

“Any song requests, m'lady?” Heeseung asked, holding your hand as you all gathered around for another of the open guitar and singing sessions, something which had taken a happy little place in your heart. A few campers gagged at Heeseung's highly friendly public display of affection.

You scrunched your nose, thinking, while Isa made you sit between her and Hee, pushing you towards him not so subtly.

“Surprise me, Hee,” you said and he smiled, knowing exactly what he wanted to play.

He strummed the strings a few times, warming his fingers up as everyone got comfortable around him as he went on for a minute.

You leaned your head against Isa's shoulder, closing your eyes as an unknown feeling bloomed up in your chest. Was it fear? Excitement? Maybe a mix of both.

“I met you in the dark, you lit me up.” his deep voice mixed with the cool breeze of the night.

It made your heart beat fast, remembering what he had said about that song a few summers back.

You didn't open your eyes, even when everyone started singing along with him, you doing the same under your breath.

Heeseung was staring and you could feel it, but you couldn't muster the courage to look at him, knowing how his eyes are always full of sincerity, especially when he sings.

“Just say you won't let go,” he breathes out slowly, ending the song just as you open your eyes, only to find him looking at you.

Releasing a shaky breath, you smiled at him as one of the younger guy started playing an upbeat song, changing the mood right after, which you were thankful for.

“She isn't going anywhere, Hee,” Sungchan whispered in his ear and he bit his lip.

“We have only a week left, we don't know what comes after that.” He said, trying to suppress his feelings which wouldn't do him good.

That night, when you hugged him good night, you held on to him tight. Both of you knew that just friends weren't a title anymore, it was a bar higher than that, just a bit higher since you both weren't ready to accept it.

But you did know you would have to confront him soon.

“You look distraught,” Isa sat down with you on your bed, eyes worried.

“Why do you pair me with Hee?” you asked her before you could stop.

“Because he looks at you with love in his eyes.” she smiled.

You let out a breathy laugh, “Love is a big word.”

“It is, but it won't be hard for you both.” she shrugged.

“It will,” you whispered, finally admitting that you wanted to be with Heeseung.

“How?”

“We only have a week left together, then the camp would be over and we won't be returning here the next summer,” you explained, your gaze on the floor.

She wrapped her arms around your shoulder, a warm vanilla smell filling up your senses, “You don't know what the future holds, maybe you'll meet someday again? But you'll regret not trying, won't you?” her voice was soft.

You gulped down, letting it sink in, “Yeah, I'll think about it maybe?”

The probability of being rejected filled up your mind but you decided not to speak about it anymore. You hugged Isa softly, thanking her for listening to you and she simply kissed your forehead before giving you space.

You drifted off to sleep thinking about Heeseung and how would it feel if he actually kisses you someday. You wonder if he would have kissed you before had you not been interrupted.

Your mind was full of him, it made you blush even. What you didn't know was — you were the main occupant of Heeseung's mind too.

The next day was comparatively normal, the sky was clear, the activities were fun, it made you feel like a kid again with the artwork sprawled on the table in front of you and how that one fifteen-year-old was being super nice to you, helping you draw with his own expertise which was highly appreciated considering how he good he was at it.

Heeseung was trying not to have a meltdown at how you were giving all your attention to a kid instead of him, and so he did what he had to — he dipped his finger in paint and brushed it against your cheekbone.

Which successfully made you look at him, your eyebrows raised and mouth open with confusion, “Hee what the fuc—”

“Shh, not in front of the kids.” he put the clean finger against your lips. “Let's go and get you cleaned.” he smiled and the guy in front of you rolled his eyes.

He grinned and held your hand, dragging you to the empty washroom and water dispenser area, taking out his handkerchief and keeping it under the flowing tap water.

“What's on your mind, Hee?” you whispered when he came closer to wipe your paint stain, his fingers holding your chin up.

“Just wanted your undivided attention.” his hand caressed the contour of your mouth, “All done!” he said acting like he didn't do it in the first place.

“You could have just called me like a normal person,” you were amused.

“But I wouldn't have gotten you alone then, would I?” his tone was lower, alluring even.

You paused as your heart hammered against your chest, you had to stay strong and not break your calm facade, “You got me alone, now what?” you challenged him.

He comes forward, trapping you between his body and the wall, “Come on, sweetheart, I just wanna spend some time with you.” he whispered and the proximity was enough to make your head spin, in a good way.

Your hand rested on his chest and it made you feel myriads better when you felt his heart beating fast as well. His lips were ghosting just above yours, one move and they'll touch.

“As much as I admire the budding romance here, you both should head back to your art activities.” Mr. Jin spoke up, coming out of the washroom, not bothering to look at you which made you push Her away. “You both have plenty of time at night anyways.” he nonchalantly spoke and left before you could say anything.

“Ugh,” you groaned with embarrassment, covering your face as he laughed.

“Hey, he's right, meet me by the dinner area at two in the morning,” he whispered before holding your hands in his, taking them away from your face and gently kissing on your cheek.

You gasped and he only smiled, his eyes enchanting and genuine. “See you,” he said before leaving you being a breathless mess.

Lee Heeseung was a mystery to you, so lively and full of zeal yet he always did things with you least expected him to do.

Like now, you both were outside, lying on the wooden lunch table outside, staring at the blanket of stars as the pale moon glowed with the infinite sky.

It was silent as you took the scenery in, Heeseung doing the same, stealing a few glances towards you. It felt romantic and as much as you loved it, you hated it the equal amount. You didn't want him to sweet talk his way into something which wouldn't result in anything. You curse the bad timings.

But you couldn't help but feel the tingles where he kissed on your cheek earlier.

“Do you believe in love, Hee?” your eyes stayed on a star which visibly shone brighter than its companions. He stayed quiet for a while.

“Love definitely exists. It's everywhere if you pay attention to the detail,” he spoke slowly, trying to piece his words together, “Like, the way you're looking at the stars, your eyes adore them, they're full of love.”

You turned to look at him and he could see exactly what he was talking about, the small glimmer in your eyes paired with a speck of confusion. You liked his theory.

“Hm, the sky is breathtakingly beautiful.” you smiled.

And he returned it softly, his hand inching closer to your small ones.

“Why the sudden question?” he asked softly, his pinky finger intertwined with yours which gave you a sense of comfort. He made you feel warm and fuzzy.

“I was just wondering,” your gaze fell on his hand which now captured your own hand fully, “I completed reading a book earlier, the characters were undeniably in love, does that even exist in real life?”

You weren't sure what you expected him to answer, love was indeed a big word, the one which you shouldn't even be thinking about, less talking about it, yet you were curious about his opinion.

“How did they fall in love?” he asked back, “The characters, I mean.”

“They were friends until they decided they can't be it anymore, not when they had feelings for each other,” you explained, remembering the sweet plot which had made you squeal like a kid.

“So, love is friendship,” he stated, looking up at the exact star which you were focused on, noticing how the star adjacent to it was shining just as bright.

You didn't dare look at him. Friendship, he says. Friends, that's what you two are.

His grip on your hand tightened, securing it as his heartbeat screamed — don't let go.

And you didn't. The conversation was over and even the glistening stars could tell that the two friends had finally come to terms with their feelings — primarily focusing on the part which said that you liked each other.

The corner of his mouth slightly turned upwards seeing you dozing off, he checked his watch which displayed four in the morning, most of your time was spent in silence and he wouldn't change a single thing about it.

He softly called out your name, helping you stand up but your body ended up leaning against his chest, his strong arms wrapped around you to help you walk back, “Come on, let's get you into bed.” he whispered.

A soft pair of lips touching your forehead was the last thing you remembered before you fell into the world of dreamland.

Sleep wasn't an option for Heeseung that night, his brain muddled into thinking about the events which took place earlier.

He sighed, changing sides to get comfortable on his bed, he noticed how Sungchan was sound asleep, hugging his plushie while doing so. He wanted to be that way with you, mood uplifting as he recalled how perfectly his bigger hand encased your smaller one and yet he wanted more.

With all the instances where he almost kissed you, he too, just like you, wonders what it would feel like if he does so. Your lips gravitate his own, closer each time. It's almost tortuous how close yet far you are from him. He wants you. He needs you.

Finding hints for your ongoing treasure hunt was definitely not your priority.

Three days left. You all would leave on the third one.

And no progress, you both acted as if you were lovers for the past two days since Heeseung declared friendship as love. With that being said, you unequivocally needed answers. And a break.

Hence, you stepped into the denser part of the forest, leaving the hint hunting to your teammates — Heeseung, Isa, Sungchan, and three others.

Sitting down on the huge stone, you stared at the vibrant green trees and small, colourful birds in the sky, their chirps cheering you up by a trifle.

“Why are we making it so hard?” you spoke, talking to the one bird which landed next to you, standing on the stone as your companion. “Confessing sounds scary, what if he says no?” you groaned and the bird chirped, which sounded like a shout of encouragement.

You smiled at the cute ave, soon staring into a distance, zoning out until a sound of branch snapping brought you back to reality.

“Lord, y/n! I thought something happened to you.” Heeseung's urgent voice made you realise that maybe going off without informing your friend was a bad idea.

And before you knew it, he had you in his arms, hugging you close. You pursed your lips, hugging him back as his smell brought you immense comfort, his hand patting your back softly.

Hesitantly, you stepped back to see his expression morphed into that of a worried one. It had just been thirty minutes, enough for him to worry.

“I'm sorry, I—” he didn't let you finish, cupping your cheek.

“No, I'm sorry but I can't control myself no more,” he said, stepping further, leaving no space between you both.

He tilted your face, giving your cheek a single caress, “Pretty.” he whispered in his deepest voice.

Your heart fluttered when he pressed his lips against yours, capturing you in a delicate kiss — your first kiss.

His hand slipped down the curve of your waist, pressing your body closer, which made you stand on your tippy-toes, sighing into the short-lived kiss.

He pulled back, taking a brief second to catch his breath while also staring at you with intensity. Your own eyes staring back. Doe-eyed bambi, that's what he reminded you of.

The air swirled around you, sending a shiver down your spine. He wasted no time in grabbing your nape and smashing his lips against yours, this particular moment being more fervent that the first one. You held on to his arm as your knees got weaker with each passing second, but your conflicted voice was louder.

“Hee—” you stepped back, “What are we?” you searched his eyes, a small frown settling on your face.

“I know it sounds like I'm making a big fuss over a kiss but, where will it take us?” confrontation wasn't your strong suit, your throat felt restricted whenever you were upset, and you were sure your eyes looked teary at that very moment.

“I—” he faltered, looking down, seemingly trying to get a grip and give you an answer.

He had none.

You looked at him expectantly but deep inside your mind, you knew how it would end. It was as if your bond existed only during the camp, with no texting, no calls whatsoever once you went home.

Taking an airy breath, you nodded with a pathetic smile. “I see.”

And you walked away, a stray tear sliding down your cheek. You shouldn't have said anything. Heeseung stared at your figure, biting his quivering lip as he kept thinking of an answer. All he wanted to do was to embrace you, tell how you mean the world to him but it was too late, you had left already, leaving him with the expression of deep guilt.

The hunt was over, your team lost since half the members weren't even focused on playing. You went back to your room. It was evident and well versed in your mind — the idea that you had a knack for ruining things. Yet you never thought it would hurt this much.

“Are you alright, love?” Isa softly asked and your tough facade broke.

She held you without any question the entire time you cried, softly caressing your back all along.

You were so lucky to have her.

“You're my strong girl, come on!” she wiped your tears away with a smile once you had calmed down enough. You thanked her, mustering the energy to smile.

“You can tell me when you're ready, okay? But now we have to lift up your mood, you look way prettier when you smile, y'know?” her angelic aura made you feel better.

That's exactly when you remembered — it was the unofficial party night, the one thrown each year and even the camp officials didn't object it.

That's when you also remember how Heeseung would attend it too. And for the nth time, your heart and mind were at war. You wanted to attend it and Isa's hopeful smile made you feel secure enough to go.

You thanked the universe for your eyes weren't swollen. Red rimmed, yes, but not swollen. And even with your crushed spirits, you managed to get yourself in a dress, ready and presentable, just fine.

It meant nothing, you expected too much when it wasn't meant to be.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the chair in the room, sipping on your cold drink which contrasted well against your hot palm.

“He hurt you, didn't he?” you snapped open your eyes to see the boy who helped you with art, well, before Heeseung smudged paint on your cheek that is. You never asked for his name, you realised.

“Who?” you asked over the slightly loud music, knowing the answer already.

“The one who's been staring at me ever since I sat down next to you, he probably wants to throw me away right now.” he humorously spoke, eyes pointing at the guy you almost dreaded to see.

Almost. Because you couldn't deny how stupidly attractive he looked in black, especially with his gold-rimmed glasses that you had grown fond of.

He was staring at you, the look on his face screaming a mix of jealousy and defeat.

When you didn't reply, he continued, “He's so jealous, I wonder what he did.” the statement wasn't funny yet it made you giggle, which in turn made the boy smile.

“I'll leave before he comes to punch me,” he looked at you, “Take care of yourself and know that I'm only a call away.” he winked at you, giving you a piece of paper with his number and you hearty laughed.

Kids these days, such charmers. But then you looked up, again, to see Heeseung with clenched jaw and fist. Which made you look away just as fast.

You didn't know what to make of it.

Either way, you acted like the whole ordeal didn't affect you, which was burdensome but soon you were being dragged by Isa to sit down with the other campers of your age. You mentally thanked Isa for yet another distraction.

'No kids policy' they had stated. But their activities were the opposite.

“Guys, I know this sounds absurd but come on, it'll be fun and we can't do much without alcohol anyways.” a guy named jeongin said, proposing the idea of playing truth or dare.

Others groaned and looked at each other, contemplating whether they wanted to embarrass themselves or not. They chose the prior.

“I can't believe everyone actually agreed to this,” Sungchan whispered sitting next to you, drinking his coke as if it was a can of beer.

“We honestly have nothing else to do, the camp is full of restrictions,“ you said back, looking around to find any trace of Heeseung.

As if on cue, he came inside the already crowded room, sitting right across from you.

You wanted to hear what he had in mind, not used to him being this silent and deep in thought.

“So, are we gonna sit and ask each other about their crushes?” he questioned, and that made you laugh genuinely.

“And give dares to kiss each other?” you added, which gave elicited a chuckle out of him.

Surprisingly, the first question asked was about jeongin's crush, the blush on his face was capture worthy and his friends made sure to click some pictures of his red ears.

He ended up telling you all about this girl back at home who stole his heart. As cheesy as it was, it made you envious by a smidge. Your lover staying close to you would be like a dream, convenient and just what you need.

Another roar of scream was heard, joined by you as well, when this one blonde girl was asked to kiss the guy sitting next to her, which she ended up doing — the crowd didn't expect it in the least and that's what made the situation better. The faint blush on both their faces was a cherry on top.

However, it also gave you a painful flashback of what went down in the woods a few hours back. Everything reminded you of him. The kiss was sweetly bitter, it should have turned out differently, you wished.

He was still looking your way.

“Isa, truth or dare?” the same girl asked her, actively grasping your attention as well.

“Truth?” she said with a smile.

“Have you ever faked an orgasm?”

She hid her face, laughing and nodding, “Yeah, I have but you can't blame me for it!”

Some guys looked horrified, suddenly nervous about it while the other girls agreed with a nod.

But Sungchan was fast to change the topic, his mind scheming a plan with it, “So, Heeseung,” he grabbed everyone's attention, “Is there anyone who'd you want to kiss in this room?”

You would have glared at him had the question not left you flabbergasted even if it wasn't directed towards you, straightforward at least.

Unknowingly, you held your breath in, greatly anticipating him to say no.

“I do.” the confidence in his voice made you shiver.

It was powerful enough for you to finally look up. Just as expected, he was staring at you already, eyes darker than ever.

And even though it wasn't a surprise to others how Heeseung wanted you, his honestly did come off as an unexpected confession, something which was unspoken till now.

“Who?” another girl asked, trying to get the obvious answer out of him.

“Moving on,” he was quick to deflect the question, asking one to the person sitting next to him.

“Damn he actually wants you,” Sungchan said, whistling lowly, only for you to hear.

“I hate you so much,” you groaned.

“You're welcome,” he quipped.

Heeseung's act of bravery shifted the confidence of the room, the dares got dirtier, questions personal and everyone was keen on knowing more.

Isa kept looking at you while Sungchan kept making small talks when he observed how fidgety and silent you were.

And suddenly everything in the world intrigued you and screamed at you for attention, the dimly lit golden lights, the faint smell of pasta lingering, the loose thread of your dress which you played with, everything.

Except for his eyes.

They knew they already had your attention, the attraction was magnetic almost. That bambi look had recently been found to be the perfect tool to make you a flustered mess.

The next person, however, grabbed your focus, asking about your selection of truth or dare.

“Truth,” you gulped, knowing well that you don't necessarily have to be honest.

“Nastiest place you've had sex before?”

You opened your mouth once, tilting your head, contemplating whether or not to tell them. Sex life wasn't something that you guys usually discussed about.

“I'm a virgin,” you shared, “So, none?” you looked around and Isa only smiled at you adoringly which gave you an easing feel.

“Saving yourself for someone particular?” Jeongin asked, tone teasing.

“Uh, not exactly?” everyone was listening intently. Kids.

“I just want my first to be with—” you paused, your eyes boring into his, “—someone I trust.”

And just like that, you blinked back as if you didn't direct it to someone. Yet the tip of your ears were burning with all the attention, which soon shifted after receiving a few comments on your sentence, calling you cute.

You wanted to leave, his gaze made you feel smaller and you couldn't deny that even though he did leave you hanging, you still wanted him.

During the entirety of the party, you didn't interact with him, which was a disappointment yet a relief and, going back to your cabin suddenly reminded you how tired your body was, sleep engulfing you as soon as you lay down on your bed, not having it in you to spare a minute for changing your outfit into something more comfortable.

And even then, till the point your eyes closed as you swept into the dreamland, Heeseung's dark eyes serenaded your mind and that was the last thing you thought of before sleeping.

Frantic knocking on your cabin door woke you up. Sighing, you checked your phone for the time.

Two in the morning.

As usual, Isa wasn't in the room. Hesitation bloomed up in your mind, wondering if it's safe to open the door, considering how it was just a series of rushed knocks with no name-calling whatsoever.

Still in your dress, you tiptoed to grab the small curtain on the tiny window, peeking out to see who the culprit who woke you up from your dreamless sleep was.

Lee Heeseung.

Your heartbeat rose again, you clutched your chest, your legs taking you to the door automatically and you opened it wide for him, his hand still mid-air from knocking.

His dishevelled appearance prompted you to take a deep analysis of him.

Moonlight shone on him, and he was out of breath, eyes slightly glistening and mouth barely open for the higher intake of oxygen. He was still in his black shirt, the top few buttons being unbuttoned at the current moment which just exposed his torso.

“Heeseung?” you breathed out, making sure you weren't dreaming.

“Is Isa here?” he asked, voice stern.

And you'd be lying if you deny the disappointment that filled up your body with his question.

He wasn't here for you.

You tried not to frown but your voice did quiver while answering, “Oh, n—no she's not here.” you gulped, mentally scolding yourself for being a puddle in front of him.

“Good,” he stepped in further, closing the door behind him which confused you enough to tilt your head, observing him with raised brows.

Another step.

There wasn't much space at the entrance, making it easy for him to have you standing against the wall.

“Hee—” you were cut off by his body being pressed to yours, warmth radiating his body.

He was serious, yet you could see the minute efforts of his, which were overpowered by his want.

He wanted you.

He didn't come here to meet Isa, simply wanting to make sure you had privacy.

For a second, you thought that he'll kiss you right away, but instead, he stopped — his forehead against yours as he searched your face with any hint of discomfort.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, just like he had done before.

Your sanity was hanging by a thread, the tension so high that it made you weak in the knees. The pause was merely two-second long, it felt like eternity still. Your thoughts turned static and his tall frame held you up in place.

The next moment, his lips are on yours. Your eyes flutter close as you kiss him back.

How could you ever say no to him?

You gasp at his fervency, hands wrapping around his neck as you pull him closer at the same time he squeezes your waist, getting a gasp out of you, which was enough for his tongue to taste you.

He hummed, so perfect.

Was it jealousy from seeing you with a kid? Was it the constant reminder that he won't be able to do it again if not done now? Was it the realization that he was so down bad for you?

Maybe all of it, that's why he couldn't stop until you both had to break up for a split second, catching your breath but he held on to you, tight. Forehead still on yours, the dim light making his wet lips shine brightly.

He called your name with such need, “I don't know what we are or where this kiss will take us,” he confessed, “But I know that I don't want to regret not kissing you when I had the chance to.” he breathes out.

He cupped your cheek, caressing it gently with his thumb. “And I can't seem to let you go,” he smiled softly, “Not when I have you in my arms, no.”

“Then don't,” you whisper, holding on to his arm.

“Touch me, ruin me, Hee,” you were drunk in his essence. “I trust you.”

“I just want my first to be with—” you paused, your eyes boring into his, “—someone I trust.”

“I just want my first to be with—” you paused, your eyes boring into his, “—someone I trust.”

That's what you had said, looking at him, that's what drove him crazy. He has to have you.

“And I trust you too.” he softly pecked your lips.

Your skin tingles wherever he touches you, and he kisses you until your legs hit the bed.

Despite his longing desire, he takes it slow and helps you lay down on your bed, him removing his shoes and getting on top of you. You wondered if he could see the rapid heaving of your chest, or how anxious you were.

He leaned over, looking at you with those gorgeous brown eyes, “Do you want this?”

You felt tingles all over your body, a little more around your lower abdomen, but you nodded nevertheless. You wanted him.

“I need words, baby,” he planted another kiss on your lips.

“Yes, yes I do,” you whispered and he smiled, “Do you want it too, Hee?” you asked.

“Fuck, yes! I want you so much.” he groaned.

Addiction would be the right word to describe it. You were addicted to his lips, slightly chapped yet giving you the perfect friction, while he was addicted to your now red and slightly swollen ones — credit to him.

“So pretty,” he breathed out, stroking the corner of your lip with his thumb. He held you up slightly, zipping down your dress till your collarbones were fully exposed for him to see. And he paused there to admire you for a second, staring as if he hadn't seen anyone in a bra before.

Your legs rested back against the mattress as he sprinkled little kisses on your neck, nibbling at certain places for a while before pressing himself against your thigh.

He was hard.

Something about this made you moan and Heeseung could have sworn it to be the prettiest sound he'd ever heard. With that, he fully-stripped you out of your dress, leaving you in your lace panties and a bra, straps falling down as he made space to place even more open-mouthed kisses on your clavicle.

You sighed, kneading your fingers in his silky hair, eyes closing with the euphoric sensation coursing through your body. He felt perfect, his skin burning with need made the whole room feel hotter.

“I should have kissed you sooner,” he groaned, and it made you wetter than you already were, panties soaking wet and he was just getting started.

You tugged on his shirt, which he removed in a swift — courtesy of the number of unbuttoned buttons. It was mesmerising, you had never been this intimate with anyone, so running your fingers on his toned torso felt like something coming straight out of your dream.

“Does it feel good, baby?” he asked you.

“Hmm,” you held on his shoulder as he got rid of your bra, slowly swirling his finger around your nipples — making them harden under his touch, “So good!” you gasped.

He chuckled, replacing his fingers with his mouth, sucking on your tits gently while he decided to explore greater areas with you, by caressing your lower abdomen, inching closer to your pathetically wet core with each passing second.

You wanted to say something, to do something yet all you could muster was a weak whimper as you clenched around nothing. His tongue worked wonders on your boobs and you couldn't help but look at him.

He was so invested, you could see how he was at a war with himself, wanting to fuck you right that second but also in need to make you feel good.

“M—more,” you mumbled lowly.

“Yeah?“ he gently touched your wetness, “Want more?” he asked, moving your panties to the side and rubbing one of his finger against your folds.

“So wet, did I make you that needy?” he bit his lip, enjoying each second of making you a shy mess.

His arm flexed as he experimentally dipped his two digits deep inside your pussy, giving it a good stretch before slowly pumping it in and out. A short moan escaped your mouth, turning into a hum right after.

That encouraged him to further get down, spreading your legs even more, completely discarding your panties before continuing to use his slender fingers on your folds, thumb further stimulating your clit.

His breath could be felt on your core, your fingers only brought his face closer to where you needed him the most.

“I've heard that scissoring helps,” he explained before spreading his fingers inside you, stretching your walls even more.

“Y—you've heard?” you asked, biting your lip to conceal a moan.

He let out a breathy laugh, brushing his lips against your pussy, “I've never done this before, sweetheart,” he confessed, somehow shy. “You're my first as well.”

Your heartbeat skyrocketed at his revelation, you couldn't help but hold yourself up, grabbing his hand and making him look right at your breathless and very naked self.

“What?” you had honestly thought that he had some experience, he most certainly did seem like he knew what he was doing.

“Like I said, I trust you,” he whispered, thumb brushing delicately on your cheekbone.

Despite the fact that you felt insanely needy, just like Heeseung, you couldn't help but feel loved at his nonchalant gestures.

Without saying much, you pulled him in yet another kiss. It was mesmerising to say the least and he ended up smiling into the kiss, gently squeezing your tit and gasping when he felt your fingers near his clothed crotch.

“Fuck,” he groaned deeply, not stopping for a second as he plunged his fingers with a newfound speed. “Perfect.” he praised, worshipping your body with each peck and caress he left on you.

Massaging his cock, which was fully hardened now, you couldn't wait to feel him around you. Also slightly scared as you wondered if you'll be able to take him in.

Just as before, you tugged on his jeans the next, whimpering as a way to beg him for more, which he understood, getting up and unbuckling his belt before sliding his jeans down along with his boxers.

Now that his cock was free and hit his lower abdomen, you gasped to see his size. He was big. You hadn't seen a dick in real life before but knowing from the porn videos you had previously watched, his dick was certainly admirable. His tip was leaking with precum.

“Oh god—” you breathed out when he took out two foil packets from the discarded jeans, holding them close to his stomach, which also put grabbed your attention, he had faint abs which suited his body well.

“You came prepared, I see.” teasing Heeseung was like your second nature.

“Sungchan gave them to me to use with you, but who knew it'll actually come in handy?” he got on top of you again, his dick pressing against your inner thigh.

His expression turned serious the exact moment he asked you the next question, “You sure about this?”

“Yes,” you nodded, “Please, Hee, I need you so much.”

The desire in your voice made his dick twitch, he cursed yet again and grabbed one packet of condom.

“Hee—” you stopped him, grabbing the rubber from him, “Can I put it on you?” you weren't sure where that bravery came from, although you didn't regret it a bit. Especially when you saw him shiver at your offer, he was just as desperate if not more.

You squeezed his shaft, rolling the condom down his dick. He licked his lips while watching your actions the whole time, throwing his head back, “I'll fucking cum if you keep doing that,” he said when you generously kissed his tip before moving back.

He wanted to fuck you then and there.

“You drive me crazy,” he groaned, his lips ghosting your neck.

He positioned himself, his tip at your entrance as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder, foreheads touching.

“I'll go slow, let me know when to stop, yeah?”

He assured you even though it was the first for him too.

You whispered out another yes, closing your eyes as he pumped his dick a few times before entering your cunt, your wetness making it easy for him to bottom out.

The voice you let out was a mixture of moan and whimper, the stretch making you clench around his dick as he groaned your name.

You took deep breaths as Heeseung showered you with pepper light kisses all over your face and neck, caressing every part of your body as best as he could muster.

He could have sworn you looked like an angel.

“So pretty, so fucking beautiful oh lord—” his voice strained as he started thrusting into you, slowly and sloppily, as best as he could acclimatise with the newfound experience — just as you were doing.

And soon enough, the pleasure took over the pain. Your moans grew louder enough to resonate in your cabin and you genuinely hoped no one else heard you or they won't let you breathe the next day.

His name was on your tongue, your mind, your whole body.

Lee Heeseung, the guy you gave your virginity to.

And the guy who gave his virginity to you.

His hair bounced with each time he pistoned in you, breathing getting harder and lips pressed on the side of your cheek, close to your ear.

“You close, baby?” he asked softly.

“Mhm, you feel so good, Hee,” you brokenly mumble, gasping when he rubs your clit, other hand also shifting you impossibly closer to him.

He still took it slow, memorising each of your expressions and your voice, imprinting the whole thing in his mind to stay forever.

He went on as if he was devoted was you while you admired him for being so good to you. He mapped out your blissful face as you softly rocked your hips against his.

Your pussy throbbed as you approached your orgasm, “H–hee, I'm so close—”

He could feel it, your legs shaking and your walls clenching around him which succeeded in making his dick twitch, his own orgasm close.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he kissed your temple.

Your back arched as you released your juices all over his cock, your walls squeezing his cock, making him feel proud of himself for being able to please you and also the boost for him to come.

The sight only stimulated him to moan out your name lowly, filling the condom up with his own cum before collapsing on top of you, making sure to not put too much of his weight on you.

You certainly did feel sore after that session, your fingers softly brushing his hair away from his forehead as you pressed a soft kiss there, which successfully made him snuggle closer to your body.

“Thank you,” it came out as a whisper.

“No, thank you for trusting me,” he said earnestly.

He took off the now cum filled rubber and threw it in the trashcan kept beside your bed.

You smiled, warmth spreading in your chest as you cradled his neck, pulling him in. The kiss was slow and sensual, the heart-melting kind and you enjoyed how his tongue explored your mouth. A sigh leaves your mouth in unison.

“How do you feel?” you couldn't help but ask him.

“Euphoric,” he smiled as you laughed. “And you?” he asked, tracing your spine.

“Well, I feel heavenly,” you grinned, content with the proximity.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” he got up, getting you his black shirt to cover up for a while as he wore his boxers.

You quietly scanned his body, wondering how you got lucky enough to share this moment with someone so attractive. His red and swollen lips made him look even more appealing.

He helped you get up, holding your waist when you told him how sore your legs feel, holding you by your waist and helping you settle on the sink as he gets a few paper napkins.

You observe as he cleans you up with the wet napkins, mouth forming into a pout with concentration — the whole situation making you feel shy.

“Why?” he asked as he noticed you avoiding eye contact. “Shy now? You were moaning my name just a few minutes back—” you cut him off by slapping his shoulder.

He laughed, settling himself between your legs when you wrapped your arms around him, burying your face in his neck.

“I like you a lot, y/n,” he confessed and you held on tighter.

It felt like a dream — like you'd wake up tomorrow and he won't be there with you.

“I like you a lot more,” you whispered.

And it felt real — his lips on yours, they felt real, the butterflies in your stomach, they all felt real.

He held you tenderly, as he had always wanted to, singing you to sleep and whining each time you opened your eyes to look at him. His tousled hair covered his eyes, which in your opinion, made him look even prettier. You called him cute, acting as if you didn't beg for his dick a while back.

He falls asleep faster in your embrace, hugging you just the way he wanted to, when he was envious of Sungchan's poor plushie. But hey, he did get you after all.

With another look regarded with fondness, you kissed his cheek, murmuring a 'good night' to him before joining him in the dreamland.

To say Isa was shocked would be an understatement. Coming back to see Heeseung and you cuddling like the tooth-rotting, fluffy couple from a cheesy rom-com while sleeping together wasn't a scene she had expected to see.

She also thanked the blanket for covering a very shirtless Hee and a very loose-shirt-clad you, rushing to freshen up, leaving soon after to give you both privacy.

It was the last day at the camp, you all would leave tomorrow morning. But you were happy, waking up in Heeseung's arms, he pulled you closer when he saw you awake.

“Morning, Bambi,” you cooed.

“Is that what I am now?” he asked groggily.

You hummed, soon letting out a yelp as he helped you stand up again. He knew you were sore still and he made it his mission to stay by your side the whole day.

He accompanied you while freshening up, the tip of his ears getting red seeing you wearing his shirt, the top buttons were undone and your hair was messy.

He called you pretty endlessly.

Even during the breakfast, he made sure you say down first and got you the food himself as you avoided the questions thrown by both your roommates — which he answered after coming back, “She's tired, don't bother her.” he exaggerated, succeeding in making you roll your eyes, it made him giggle.

Stupidly cute Lee Heeseung.

He then insisted on sitting at the same spot under the tree where you had carved your initials. “Now we really do look like a couple,” he smirked, coming closer.

“Let's be it then,” you pecked his nose, “For a day.”

A day, that's what you had since you both despised the idea of online dating now that you had a taste of what you could be when together.

“My girlfriend,” he breathed out, kissing you tenderly, “For a day.” his forehead bumped against yours softly. The cool breeze uplifts your mood as you sat with him, hand in hand, exchanging soft kisses between your conversations.

Safe to say, he didn't leave your side the entire day, pouting and calling you his girlfriend with a goofy smile — which grew further when you called him your pretty boy.

You were elated, smiling the whole day which came naturally to you, courtesy of your boyfriend. The pain subsided soon, which allowed you to take a walk for a while now that it was nighttime.

Heeseung had gone to his cabin for a while to pack his belongings, he wanted you to come along but you had different plans.

Grabbing a towel, you slowly made your way through the park and to that very place where the lake was. The part used for swimming practices to be precise.

Stripping yourself until you were in your bra and panties, you slowly walked into the lake, the lukewarm water reaching your chest. You sighed, staring at the night sky, mentally reminding yourself that you'll have to leave tomorrow.

You had grown to love this place, you spend all your summers here. Meeting Heeseung only added to your list of joys.

And just like that, you closed your eyes and enjoyed your minute of solitude.

“Really? Without me?” you turned to see Heeseung removing his t-shirt, and getting in the water with you.

You had no clue how he found you but you were glad. You hummed teasingly and he wrapped his arms around you.

“No one's around, wanna make out?” he offered, eyes shining.

“I don't know, Hee. What if someone sees us—” he didn't let you continue your teasing any further.

His lips were on yours already.

This feeling — amazing.

You weren't sure what love was. But you knew that Heeseung was the closest person you could associate with the word — love.

He was delighted to know that Isa won't be the room yet again and he took that opportunity to spend the night with you. It consisted of plethora of kisses and a – as said by Heeseung – diminutive amount of touching.

But he did love to hold you, to grip your body and caress all of it, being deep into body worshipping as per your observations.

“Good night, girlfriend,” he said with a full heartedly.

He made you happy.

Especially when he held on to you the entire night and didn't let go of you even when you woke up. You could see the sadness in his eyes, a small frown on his face.

“Can't we stay for longer?” he asked, knowing the answer already.

You hated time.

His hand never left yours till you reached the bus area, saying your goodbyes to everyone. He held it tighter when the art guy came all the way over to say bye to you.

You found his jealousy cute.

Isa was supposed to leave in the same bus as you, which would give you more time with her later, whereas Sungchan had another bus, just like Heeseung — all going different ways.

Mr. Jin had winked seeing your locked fingers, “Plenty of time at night, just as I said,” he started, “Ah, young love!” he gushed.

You both exchanged looks, trying to get away and to save yourself from further embarassment.

“Everyone is staring,” you whispered when he pulled you closer by your belt loop.

“Let them,” he mumbled.

The luggage was loaded, the buses scheduled to depart in five minutes and you both were having a hard time letting go. Keeping your tears at bay was another challenge for you.

“I'll miss you so much,” he sighed and you said the same.

He even gave you a chocolate bar to give to your little sister. He remembered these little things about you which made it even harder for you to leave him.

And then he kissed your for the last time, passionately under the sky, with no care about others who we openly watching, someone mumbled ‘about time’ but you were too busy absorbing everything Hee had to offer.

His lips were still sweet from the drink he had during breakfast, his smell ever strong — perfectly enough to send your brain into overdrive.

And just like that, your summer romance came to an end, the end which you despised more than anything.

Being the angel he was, he gave you his prettiest smile before parting ways.

The first tear fell down when the bus officially left the camp, Isa holding you through it all.

She was an angel.

Yes, you hated how it ended all so fast, but going back, you wouldn't change a thing.

He put in efforts to text you. His enthusiasm made your cheeks hurt from smiling too much. Which made your sister suspicious of you having a boyfriend.

But again, you didn't have any labels after your one-day-relationship. Your first and only relationship.

Things switched a month later when his mocks for university started, his undivided attention on studying and his career, which you admired.

Until you lost touch.

All his socials went down, deactivated when the exams came but he did have the decency to tell you in advance, and you knew it wouldn't be the same after.

And you were right.

That's how your summer romance came to a bittersweet end.

So you wrote him a letter.

The one you'd never send out. Ever.

Dear Lee Heeseung,

First of all, I absolutely despise how much I miss your honey doe eyes which I looked forward to seeing each day during the entirety of the camp. You're like the epitome of perfection with your good looks, neverending talents and most importantly, your impressive approach at sweet-talking.

That's the core reason why I came to the realisation that I am capable of liking a certain person beyond words. You had me conflicted, Hee.

You were calm, collected, yet nervous and charming, you called me pretty while showing me the most glorious sky I had ever laid my eyes upon. Perhaps that was the cue for me to stop. But you made it so hard that I only fell harder.

You think you were so cool, calling me pretty names, stealing me away and nonchalantly singing songs which you knew would send me deeper into the spiral.

When I met you for the first time, I was taller and you were a lean guy who cried each time you fell down during trails and games. But then you came back taller, prettier with a mischievous glint in your eyes and I knew this year wasn't going to be remotely the same when things switched and you were the one who kept my frame up the entire time, almost like a bodyguard. But at the same time, you made my knees go weak. Sure, your looks were alluring from the very start but I never saw you beyond the line of friends.

But I knew I was a goner when you asked me for a good night kiss. A very sly move of you. Then you actually kissed me in the woods and completely took over my mind, also accepting how you indeed wanted to kiss me.

I could have sworn I hated that day, we didn't have answers. But once you came over knocking on the door at night, and kissed me with everything you had to offer, you gave me a piece of you I would never forget. And I fell in love with that day.

Friends falling for each other, how cliché of us, isn't it? ’Friendship is love’ you had said, was that your way to confess early? I wouldn't deny, it made my heart skip a beat.

I loved you. I loved how caring you were, I would be lying if I said I didn't want more of you.

I'm uncertain as to why I'm writing this, maybe because it stings how short-lived our ‘romance’ was. I could simply blame the distance for it, however, I also wonder — Should we have tried harder?

Love, The girl who took your v card.

THANK YOU FOR READING <3

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TO THE BOY : who took me to prom

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

GENRE/CW: smut, fluff, angst, best friend's brother trope, protected and unprotected sex, cunnilingus, marking, creampie, mentions of petnames (princess, kitten), lots of kissing and brief mentions of sex, mentions of jake (enhypen), yedam and yoshi (treasure), mentions of food and insecurities. let me know if i forgot something!

WC: 19.6k words

SYNOPSIS: prom—the last event of senior high school was right around the corner, but the only person who you wanted to go with had rejected you for his own reasons, leaving you upset and unwilling to attend the event. however, your best friend, mina, was hellbent on making you attend it and being a sweetheart, she ends up persuading her brother, sunghoon, to be your date for the night.

WARNING: 18+ content, minors dni

A/N: hihi, my sweetest angels<3 i'm finally here with the second installment of to all the boys series! it can be read as a stand alone but it's a follow up from the first part so it's highly encouraged you read it first! this is by far the longest fic i've written and i sincerely hope that y'all enjoy it! thank you sm for 6k+ followers :3 all likes, comments, reblogs and feedbacks are highly appreciated :D iloveyou all <3 [ masterlist ]

“You can't stay hung up on him for your whole life!”

That is exactly what you had thought initially.

Writing a letter did give you closure, not the kind you had desired to get. However, understanding your own mind was at the top of the priorities for you.

It was a good bye, the best you could muster. Yet, you broke down a myriad times while penning it down. A tear droplet falling down your cheek had kissed the paper, approving it of your sincerity.

But, your best friend refused to see you cry over a boy. Yes, he was a very pretty, the “epitome of perfection” kind of boy, that's what made it harder for you to let go.

“I know, I know,” your voice faltered with the repetition, sighing into your hands.

It hurt, yes, but she was correct. It was nine in the morning, a day after your finals had ended. Your high school life was over. Deciding to celebrate it together, you did what you had to — a sleepover at your best friend, Mina's place.

“I'm sorry, I,” she gulped, “I shouldn't have raised my voice,” she apologized, pouting. Her raised voice sounded gentle still, and you simply hugged her to silently mention that it's okay, that you're okay.

She huffed, “Listen, school is still not over, we have an extra month to get credits and of course, prom!”

“I got rejected, Mina.”

“And I'll be punching that asshole, don't you worry, sweetheart.” she finalized.

Asking someone to prom took a lot of courage. Being rejected hurt just as much. Yoshi was a pretty boy and you should've known better than to ask someone like him to prom, knowing well that he would have a date already — which he did. You nodded with an understanding smile, which he returned with one of his own, looking apologetic.

It further fuelled your desire to leave for college already, having had enough of school.

Five days of community service and you were ready to conclude your resume and send in your university applications. Hopefully, you wished to get back an acceptance letter by the time for your prom, which you had little to no zeal for.

However, your friend was overjoyed with the newfound development in her relationship status. While you spent your summer at the camp, she had lived her life to the fullest by finally making a move on her longtime crush, Yedam, who was also a close friend of you both. You remember how happy it made you when Mina hugged you, spilling the details of their journey from being friends to lovers.

He genuinely appeared to be scared when you made him sit down to give him the 'don't hurt my best friend or else I'll hurt you more' talk. Safe to say, he knows it's better to behave than face the consequences of being beat up by you and her brother, whom he found scary if you might add.

However, something about the way he got all three of you breakfast, especially getting Mina's favourite muffins alongside, told you that she was going to be more than just fine with him.

Soon enough, you found yourself sitting in the back of Yedam's four-seater car, which was awfully comfortable, with Mina riding shotgun as you three headed to the local amusement park. The experience, however, was different this time considering you felt like a child going out with their parents.

You could say you were third-wheeling but it wasn't actually the case since they both included you in everything. Plus, the rides were fun, you were having fun, albeit the constant public display of affection in front of you. Their fingers intertwined as they walked together.

You smiled slightly, not being envious, whilst you still did wonder how it would have been had you been in a position somewhat similar to theirs — a loving relationship.

Mina didn't let your thoughts consume you, “Y/n versus Yedam let's go!” she whistled in front of the claw machine, challenging you to get her the light pink teddy bear, which you did and Yedam couldn't.

This earned you a big hug from your best friend and a whine from him when you showed him your tongue. It certainly made you smile a lot more when she won a teddy herself and gifted it to you, Yedam watching the exchange fondly.

You excused yourself from them, letting them have their romance movie moment by enjoying the ferris wheel. The bench was surprisingly comfortable and the drink in your hand perfect for the parched you. The teddy comfortably sat on your lap while your eyes wandered around, you stopped to smile softly at a little girl staring, she giggled back which warmed your heart. The sky was a pretty mixture of orange, yellow and red, blending in together to say goodbye to the sun for the day.

A sigh left you, it was a good day of momentary distraction and of course, quality time with the people who care about you and vice versa. It almost made you forget about Heeseung, and the prom rejection.

Sitting at the backseat again, you were going back home with a pastel cotton candy in your hand, a content smile on your face.

“So,” your friend dragged out, “Five more days of community work.” a groan left her.

“Just five days, Mina. Besides, I'll be with you the whole time,” you extended your hand which she held with another hand on her heart.

“Not you flirting with my girlfriend again,” Yedam huffed playfully, emphasis on ‘my’.

“Oh and,” Mina continued, “Sunghoon will be picking us up tomorrow!”

“Sunghoon is back?” you asked, voice shaky but not enough for someone to notice it.

“Yes! I can't believe I forgot to tell you,” she rambled, “He'll be staying for the summer break, would leave two days after our graduation i think.”

“That sounds nice,” you commented softly.

Thoughts of Park Sunghoon coming back didn't leave your mind even after you got dropped home, wandering back to the time when you were a few years younger and had the tiniest bit of crush on him, something about watching a movie where falling in love with your best friend's brother was the plot.

You shake your head, making yourself comfortable on the couch right after.

“Well you look distraught,” your younger sister, Kitty, spoke up.

“I'm exhausted, that's all,” you closed your eyes.

She hummed as an acknowledgement to your statement, “You better not be hung up on those assholes now.”

“Kitty! Language.” you warned.

“Okay, fine,” she huffed, smiling right after, “Let's do facepacks and watch a movie then!”

You smiled at her ceaseless efforts to make you feel better.

“Race you to the room!” you screamed.

It was an unmistakably good night, your sister tucked you in bed with a blanket soon after you passed out in midst of watching the rom-com movie, staring at you with the grin, internally wishing for your happiness each day.

You groaned when your alarm rang, you've always hated how shrill the sound was but it did get the job done so you couldn't complain much. Rubbing your eyes, you looked around with your slightly blurry and adjusting vision. An open packet of chips slept right next to you, the room didn't look a lot appealing and you made a mental note to clean it after getting back from school.

Dragging yourself out of the bed, you spent time in the shower, worried about your university applications even after you had checked them five times already. Just a month more and you were ready to start a new life in a hopefully new city with a fresh enthusiasm towards success and a good life.

There was something different about today, however, you couldn't pinpoint what it was. For starters, your mom had very graciously made your favourite chocolate chip pancakes, “It was your dad's idea,” she told with a fond smile on her face when see saw your own face glowing.

You hugged them both and sat down next to Kitty, adding extra chocolate syrup before groaning how it's the most amazing, mouthwatering, worth-getting-late-to-school-for food ever.

Which also was true since the car outside had just honked for the third time already. Being impatient as you were, you grabbed and rolled the pancake before getting your bag and rushing out, muttering out a quick good bye to your family.

The sky was clear, the breeze was slightly on the cooler side — which you were thankful for. You mindlessly opened the door to the backseat, only to see the lovebirds sitting there. Then it clicked.

“Sunghoon will be picking us up tomorrow!”

Park Sunghoon was back.

And you were to sit next to him.

“Get on! We're getting late!” Mina urged, whining.

And you did, not looking at the one sitting on the driver's seat, making sure to buckle up before calmly chewing on your sweet treat. The engine purred and soon, the car was moving smoothly, the only sound coming from the backseat where your friend sat with her boyfriend, whispering and giggling lowly.

The smell of the car was musky but not too strong, which made you wonder what perfume was it that the guy sitting next to you had used.

You didn't make any efforts to start a conversation when pancakes had your undivided attention.

“So, y/n—” Sunghoon acknowledged your presence which made you choke midway your last bite.

“Oh, uhm. Hey.” you awkwardly let out, mentally scolding yourself for being like this.

That's when you finally looked at him after a whole year. He looked different. His hair slightly longer than his usual super short and neat cut, jawline more prominent and his arms on display, which looked sculpted, definitely an outcome of doing gym regularly.

The most evident change however, would be his fashion sense. His usual daily style consisted of soft and pastel shades, the kind which were considered classy and elegant. But currently, he was clad in all black, from his black sleeveless to his black jeans, he looked like some guy straight out of your wattpad fanfiction stories. And a leather jacket was kept aside to add on to his whole ’bad boy’ persona.

“I see your love for pancakes never died.” he chuckled, looking at you for a second before paying attention on the road again.

“And it never will!” you said without missing a beat.

His voice was slightly deeper than you had remembered. Ever since you had met Mina, you were comfortable enough to vocalize your thoughts, and given that you did spend a good amount of time at her place rather than your own, his brother was well versed with your basic likes and dislikes as well.

He nodded, the corner of his lips upturned with your answer, but didn't add on to your statement. However, after a comfortable amount of silence later, he opened his mouth to speak up again but Mina had the same plans, just a bit faster than his brother.

“Y/n, I hope you're ready for today.”

“What's today?” you asked, confusion evident on your face.

“A prom date searching hunt for you, of course!” her eyes wide open, no hint of humour behind them.

“Listen, Mina—” you started, “I love you, I really do but that idea is by far your worst one.”

You heard a gasp, “I'm doing this for you! I don't want to go to prom alone.”

“Excuse me?” Yedam interjected.

“Okay, I mean, I need my best friend there.” and her usual pout graced her.

“I don't need a date to be there, y'know?” you sighed.

“But I know you want one!” she concluded with a nod.

Forming a comeback to that statement was hard, especially when her words held nothing but the truth. You didn't want to be alone, eminently after you knew what the taste of companionship felt like.

“We're here.” Sunghoon spoke up, saving you from the mindless conversation.

A date would certainly be nice but you didn't want to drag a complete stranger to attend prom with you, especially because one wrong move and your mood would be spoiled.

Both of them were out of the car already, you held on to your bag strap to follow suit but were stopped with his fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Hey, you've got a lil bit of—” he trailed off, wiping the corner of your lip with his thumb in a soft caress.

You froze with the sudden warmth of his finger and unexpected proximity. He further took his chocolate smeared finger close to his mouth, licking it slowly, maintaining eye contact while doing so.

“All good now,” he half smirked at your reaction.

“Oh, thank you,” you whispered, “for the ride and, uh this,” you pointed at your lips. Your voice, however, came out squeaky and you took that as your cue to leave.

You weren't sure if what he did was intentional or just an innocent gesture to help you.

Who doesn't like chocolate, afterall? You theorized, mind still wandering back to scene where he licked his thumb.

You sighed.

It was going to be a long vacation.

Spending the night with your best friend would usually serve as an escape from your problems but the world had different plans. You had lost the count of times you had been amused with your friend's unusual antics, these days more than ever.

“You do realize what you're saying, right?” you snickered, actively making fun of her at her latest creative idea for your prom date.

“Of course! It's the best you can get and you really need to start taking me seriously.”

You raised your brow, “Take you seriously? I'm sorry but how am I supposed to do that when you're basically offering your brother to be my date?” you challenged.

“Okay, it does sound a little ridiculous—”

“A little?”

“Stop interrupting—” her eyes were comically wide.

“The ladies are fighting, I see,” Sunghoon plopped down on the couch next to you, “This about prom again?” he directed the question towards you.

“It's honestly better if you don't ask,” you mumbled.

“Take her to prom,” Mina said alongside.

“I'm leaving,” you sighed.

“Is that even allowed?” Sunghoon asked slowly.

And for the second time on the same day, you halted your movements and observed two things — first being the big smile on Mina's face, second being Sunghoon's gaze on you.

Hair messy and clad in shorts, he looked comfortable.

You weren't awkward around each other, you seldom interacted in general, but he always made sure to drop by and greet you whenever he learned you were around the house. His smile was the first ever thing you noticed about him, found attractive even. How could you not, with his sharp canines on display which strongly reminded you of fangs. His pale skin only added to it.

“Of course! Remember last year that one brought an alumni too, he was two years older as far as I remember.”

“Do I even want to ask how you know that?” you were presently mumbling to yourself.

“Ryujin was popular, I kept tabs on what she did — in a non creepy way of course,” she explained, “Besides, Sunghoon would also be there to ensure you're safe!”

“It's prom, not assassination, Mina,” you pinched your nose bridge.

Sunghoon was focused, intently paying attention to your conversation. Eyes trained on your face to search for any kind of hesitance.

“I'll leave you two to talk for a while. Join me in my room later, yeah?” she patted your arm softly and you nodded.

Ever since you were a kid, you needed someone to push you, to voice out your opinions and include you into groups, whether it was the friend-making process or to be invited in groups for the class projects process, taking initiative wasn't your strong suit. Mina took you in with fondness on her face, never once questioning your inert behaviour but also making sure to help you open up step by step. To others, it often looked like you were being forced but in reality, she just pushed to towards the things your heart wanted.

The task was strenuous, yet she never stopped and you could only thank her for being patient with you, never once breaking her amiable aura.

The room was silent, you spoke up in hopes of diffusing the awkwardness hanging around the air, “I'm sorry, you really don't have to do anything.”

“Are you alright?” his question caught you off-guard.

You nodded, eyes wide, “Yeah, yeah totally.”

He swiped his tongue on his lower lip before speaking again, “You know—” he stopped, rethinking before opening his mouth again, “You should get some rest, yeah? And mom made some muffins this morning, your favourite ones.”

Something told you that wasn't what he had initially planned to say. Nevertheless, your face lit up with the mention of muffins, mouth watering at the sight of Sunghoon bringing out two of those for you.

“Oh god, I love your mom,” you hummed, taking the first bite and closed to eyes, focusing all of your senses into the gustatory delight.

After a beat of silence, you asked him the question that had been bugging you the whole day.

“How's uni treating you?” he looked changed, both appearance and behavioural wise. With your own journey to university close, you wondered what it would be like. Is it the way they show in movies? More fun, less studies? Or is it a hellhole waiting to give you the mental pressure you didn't know existed.

Furthermore, he was silent, speaking a lot less than usual. He was a quiet guy per se, but always talkative around the comfort of his abode, with his family and close friends. You didn't want to ask and make him uncomfortable, so you settled with the normal questions instead.

“Uni is stressful,” he chuckled, running his hand through his hair and you noticed how soft they looked, making you want to feel them yourself.

“I see your style has changed,” you commented with a small smile, ensuring that it's a good change.

“Yeah, I saw you staring at me earlier,” he smirked.

Your heart raced at that, expression turning into a panicked one.

“What? No! When did I—” forming sentences was suddenly a hard task for you.

Which elicited a heartily laugh from him, “I wasn't serious, calm down, princess.”

“Oh,” you darted your eyes elsewhere, your knee bouncing as you found your cheeks growing hot with his newfound nickname for you.

His hand was quick to stop your knee from moving — his hand cold against your warm body. Earlier, you weren't certain about his actions being intentional, but the smirk ghosting his lips made you firmly believe that he was completely aware of his practices.

With that, he ruffled your hair, whispering a good night to you before making his way towards his room. You didn't move from that spot as if you were glued, deep in thought. He didn't agree to be your partner, however, he didn't deny the proposal. You were considering him as your date, it felt wrong. Best friend's brother is always off limits, yet your friend was the one who happily offered him to you.

As your friendly date, you reminded yourself.

The thought of having a date as pretty as Sunghoon undoubtedly made you nervous, but you tried not to keep your hopes high, still hurting from your past rendezvous. Slow dancing with Sunghoon was the last thought you remembered before drifting off to dreamland, passing out on the couch.

As far as you knew, teleportation only existed in fictional world. It was beyond you how your sleeping figure shifted from the couch to your best friend's room. Sleep walking wasn't the answer either. You pushed the thought away, theorizing that maybe you were the one who walked up by yourself and forgot due to your sleepy state.

And you had a better reason to be deranged, given the current situation.

“So, when you planning to go dress shopping?” Sunghoon had asked in the car. Mina left before you, for her task started an hour earlier, which left you to fend a ride for yourself. Sunghoon had very graciously offered to drop you off.

Times like these made you wonder why you didn't have your driver's licence yet, it would have saved you from Park Sunghoon's unusual behaviour.

“Three days later at around two?” you answered, unsure still. You took out your phone to check your calender, where you had marked the reminder.

“Any particular colour you're looking for?” he inquired and you parted your lips to answer, but he further had something to add, “I'll get the matching tie once you'll be done.”

It took you second to process his sentence. Blinking twice, you looked at his driving figure, “Hold on, are you saying that—”

“—I'll accompany you to prom? If you allow me to, princess,” he spoke smoothly, stealing the words out of your mouth.

“I don't have much to do, I'm free most time,” he explained, “And you're not a bad company actually.”

His words had been repeating in your mind like an old broken record player.

“I—” you hesitated.

Instead of forming a verbal reply, you settled with a nod, heart racing with the thought of him entering the venue with your hand in his.

Another thing about Park Sunghoon, his reputation. His gang was famous around the school, and were referred to as fuckboys. He wasn't one, in fact, he had always been shy, timid and hesitant regarding everything but his true love — ice skating. Being a sportsperson only increased the gap and hence, he was called as the unapproachable for rejecting the advances of anyone who tried to get in his pants.

That would explain the current situation quite well. As if dropping you off wasn't enough, he had also decided to follow you inside school, “It's been a while, nothing has changed still.”

“Nothing much changes in a span of a year, Sunghoon,” you moved forward, trying to avoid the stares of the students, “Thank you for driving me here and everything else, I'll see you later, bye!” you spoke in a go, rushing to your assigned destination.

Sunghoon wasn't oblivious to your behaviour, seeing you flustered and unable to maintain eye contact ever since he came back amused him to no extent. Taking you to prom was a perfect opportunity to tease you more. With a satisfactory smirk, he walks back, watching your figure disappear as you sprint.

“Mina!” you spotted her sitting under the banyan tree, sipping on her coffee but almost choked once you startled her.

“Oh fuck,” you muttered, rubbing her back before she slapped your arm, stopping after seeing your expression.

“Why do you look like you've seen a ghost?” she noticed you rubbing your earlobe, the habit you had developed out of nervousness.

“Sunghoon agreed,” you whispered urgently.

“You can't be serious,” her eyes widened, softening right after, “Hey, what's wrong?” she grabbed your hand.

“I don't know, I'm scared,” you confessed.

“Of what?”

“I don't know, Mina,” you gulped.

“Look at me,” she whispered, “He may be stupid but he won't hurt you, okay?”

“Y—yeah,” you hugged her softly.

In reality, you were scared of own judgement. Perhaps it was the result of your past experience, or just the newfound fear regarding the idea of companionship, be it platonic or romantic. Mina's words made it better for you, and you kept reminding yourself that Park Sunghoon is no one but your friendly date to the prom. Getting ahead of yourself would only do harm, especially when the fear of rejection runs high in your veins.

Mina distracted you the whole day, making sure you get home safely before she left for her own place.

“As much as I love how you're trying to help y/n,” Mina started, dropping her bag on the couch, “I will personally punch you if you ever hurt her.”

“Woah, why would I hurt her?” he asked, brows furrowed.

“As a bestfriend, it's my duty to remind you still, so you better behave,” she said, “But in all honesty, take care of her since you'll be taking her to shop and make sure she feels safe and happy.”

“I promise,” he said earnestly.

He knew Mina's overprotectiveness jumped out in spontaneous bursts, yet he felt like it had a bigger reason than that. He found himself thinking of you for the entire night, wondering if he could make it better somehow.

After all, behind that black leather jacket hid the same old Sunghoon who was sweet and clad in pastels, the one who liked to figure skate and see others happy.

Just like you, he slept thinking about what the future held for you both.

The first thing you did after getting your letter of recommendation after three days was to finalize your resume, sending it out in hopes of getting into your dream university in Seoul. You further made sure to send in applications to your back up universities just in case.

It gave you a sense of relief as you stood out in the fresh air while waiting for Mina to pick you up.

You really needed to get your licence.

Acknowledging that you were to leave this place soon, your eyes took everything in as you stood in your front yard. A gentle smile gaced your face as you saw the apple tree which you and your sister had planted years back, it grew up with you.

“Y/n? Hey!” an enthusiastic voice grabbed your attention, you turned to see your neighbour, Jake, waving at you with a smile.

“Jakey, hey,” you smiled as the smiley boy hugged you softly, you noticed how his scent was light and woody.

“Where are you off to?” he asked, taking in your outfit.

“Oh, Mina successfully persuaded me into going dress shopping with her,” you scrunched your nose, which he giggled at, “It's prom in like, less than a month,” he nodded.

“Do you have a partner already?” he asked, voice low as he fiddled with his fingers.

“Yeah! I honestly am clueless as to how we reached upon this agreement but Park Sunghoon agreed to be my friendly date for the night,” you explained, adding ‘friendly’ as a reminder to yourself.

He looked at you bug eyed, “Sunghoon? Woah, is he back in the town?” he asked, slightly shocked as you mention the guy who was the same age as you both, however he had been your senior due to his early admissions.

Hence he had completed his first year of university while you were yet to get into one.

You nodded, confirming his statement. Just as you were talking about him, his car came into view, honking for no particular reason even after seeing your figure outside.

“That's my ride! I'll see you later?” you asked and his lips turned into an alluring smile.

“Have fun!” he said, pulling you into another hug.

He loved physical affection, you had noticed so in your past years of being friends with him.

With a brightened mood, you sat down in the car, putting your seatbelt on, stretching out your hello before getting comfortable in your seat.

“Well, you look happy today,” Mina pointed out.

“I'm just happy that I've sent out my resume,” you replied, eyes travelling to see the driver, you found yourself staring at his usual sanguine demeanor.

“Are you sure it's not because of Jake's cozy hug?” she teased.

“Shut up, oh god,” you tried not to laugh at her mindless pairing.

“Do you like him?” Sunghoon was quick to inquire.

“He's just a sweet guy!” you replied just as fast.

“Oh yeah, why didn't you ask him to prom then, y/n?” Yedam was the one who asked you this time.

“Uhm—” you stopped, “I don't know.”

“She's got a better partner, y'know?” Sunghoon said, gripping the steering wheel harder.

To which you three laughed. It was chaotic with everyone trying to speak mid-way each other's sentences but it gave you a good laugh, so you couldn't complain about it.

In midst of this, you saw Sunghoon smile with his fangs showing. A genuine smile you hadn't seen in a long time. It was no secret that he had a pretty smile, the kind which would make you want to smile back at him.

Your expression was quick to change when Mina shoved five dresses in your arms in one go, making the boys laugh at your struggle.

“Stop laughing and help me!” you groaned.

Sunghoon took the dresses from you, asking Yedam to take Mina away, preferably to the shop right next to the one you were in. It wasn't a bad idea considering how the five dress shops were lined up together.

“Your sister will be the death of me,” you spoke up, trying to make a small conversation with him, you turned around to see a female attendant, no older than twenty five, staring at Sunghoon.

“You've got a fan by the way,” you laughed, discreetly pointing at the attendant and his eyebrows furrowed, soon turning back to you with a teasing face.

“Why? You jealous?”

“Jealous of what?”

“Don't worry, princess, you're my date and not her.”

You gasped at the cursed nickname again, giving him the exact reaction he wanted out of you. It was so easy you call you his date while you always tend to add the title of ‘friendly’ along with it. Deciding to not overthink, you tried to use his own tricks to examine his reaction.

“I'm, in no way, jealous,” you stated, touching the fabric of a dress you found attractive, “You are my partner after all,” you voiced, emphasizing on 'my'.

“Try this,” he handed you a black dress, it didn't seem gaudy and actually suited your taste.

“Not bad, Park,” you commented.

It riled him up to find more pieces for you but seeing the amount of dresses you had to try, he stopped himself.

The store was unbelievably empty, giving you enough space to wander around, it seemed like the staff was on leave too, only a few attendants around and busy with other customers. You made your way towards the changing rooms, Sunghoon following your suit.

“I hope your taste is pleasing, Park, since you'll be helping me decide a dress today.”

“Of course, my taste is grand. I'm here with you, aren't I?” he smoothly let out.

You gulped, “Good,” you commented, going inside to try the first dress on. It was Mina's choice, a light peach coloured off-shoulder dress with a hint of tulle on skirt.

It looked beautiful however, you were not satisfied. You stepped out from the room, making him look up. You noticed how his mouth opened and closed in the span of a second.

“It looks graceful,” he commented in a low voice, eyeing you up and down, “Do you like it?”

“It is angelic, I admit but something is missing,” you verbalized, looking at him. His lower lip was bitten, mind elsewhere as he nodded.

You didn't comment on his behaviour, cheeks suddenly hot with how intense his gaze was as you walked back into the room, trying out several other dresses, only to notice him sporting the same expression.

“You look pretty,” he had commented when you wore a dark blue dress with a thin strap and sweetheart neckline. His voice came out breathy, giving you goosebumps in an instant. You shortlisted that dress.

After a few more trails, you were left with the black corset dress which further would accentuate your figure. It was Sunghoon's choice, and hence, was left to be the last.

But luck wasn't on your side today. As you were zipping the dress up, the zipper got stuck midway in a fashion that you couldn't get the dress off or wear it fully, meaning, you had to ask for help. Peeking out, you tried to spot any female attendant for help but were unable to find any.

“What's wrong?” Sunghoon asked, standing up from the waiting seat.

“The zipper got stuck,” you sheepishly let out, “And I need help.”

“Get in,” he said, following you inside the not-too-spacious area.

“Hoon—” you had used his nickname by unconsciously. Suddenly, your breathing was unstable with his next action.

He stood behind you, your eyes fixated on his figure as you observed his each action carefully through the mirror in front of you. You gasped when his surprisingly cold and slender fingertips touched your bare back, grazing down to get a hold of your zipper.

“Don't move,” his breath fanned your neck as he whispered in your ear, voice deeper than usual.

Your body stilled, hyperaware of his movements, shivering with the trail of touch he left on your spine, successfully zipping your dress up.

He looked up, “You're breathtakingly beautiful,” he spoke up with his arm wrapping around your waist.

Your breath hitched, yet you didn't stop him. You didn't want to stop him, not when his eyes were the prettiest shade of brown, and he watched you as if he was staring at your soul.

You turned to face him and he tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you opened your mouth to call out his name, but were interrupted with a knock on the door.

“Would you be needing any help, miss?” a cheerful voiced called out, drawing you out of your reverie.

You took a step back, gathering your thoughts as Sunghoon did the same, gulping and looking at the floor with bitten lips — a thing you had noticed he did a lot.

“U—uhm, no! I'll be fine, thank you so much!” you spoke out loud, trying your best to sound normal and not strained.

“Out!” you whisper-shouted once you heard the clanking of heels growing distant.

He only stepped closer, “Won't you be needing help getting out of your dress?” he asked mustering an innocent expression.

“Leave!” you pushed him away, his boyish laugh boomed in the empty area as he made his way out, giving you the privacy to change.

Once alone, you were quick to lean against the door, blinking to get your head around the incidence which took place just a moment back. You could still feel the your skin burning at all the places he touched you.

“You sure you don't want—” his muffled voice came from outside and your cheeks lifted up in a hearty laugh, “Shut up, Sunghoon!”

You shoved the dresses in Sunghoon's hand once you came out, giving him a small wink with a smug expression on your face, letting him know that you'll be playing along with his tricks just by your expression.

Seeing the black fabric in your arms only made it better, it was the chosen one and you had to get the opinion of your best friend on it. So you called her, excusing yourself for a minute, while you also looked at the heels which glistened under the lighting it was placed under to make it seem more appealing. It was working.

Mina took no longer than five minutes to get to you, a tired Yedam following her suit with two bags in his hand.

“Woah, did you get your stuff already?” you asked, walking alongside her while giving the guy a sympathetic smile.

“I liked two dresses actually, I sent you the pictures already by the way, had a mini shoot in the dressing room, but yeah, couldn't choose one so ended up getting them both!” she explained, sipping on her pink drink which you guessed was strawberry flavored.

“Love that energy,” you shook your head with a smile, “Here's what I liked,” you proceeded to show her a few pictures you clicked in different angles after you got rid of a certain guy named Park Sunghoon from your dressing area.

Her eyes popped out, “Dude, it's made for you, I'll punch you if you don't get that,” she scoots over to swipe and see it in all angles.

“Get what?” Sunghoon came to join you guys.

“The last outfit I tried on—” you were interrupted.

“Oh, here,” he handed you the bag, the dress neatly placed inside it.

“You paid for it?” you took out the bill, getting out your wallet alongside to see if you could pay him back in cash.

He was quick to stop you, “You don't have to,” he said, his hand placed on yours.

“My brother got you the dress? Are you in love with my best friend? Because I'm sorry but the dresses are expensive and you hate paying in general,” she accused with a smirk on her lips, thoroughly enjoying the switch in your relationship dynamics.

You ignored her as Sunghoon avoided her gaze, “I'll pay you back once I get home,” your words were final.

“I think Mina is onto something,” Yedam spoke.

You stopped scrolling your tumblr feed, paying attention to his words as you both waited for the siblings to come back with your McDonald's order.

“I think Sunghoon likes you!”

You laugh incredulosly, watching his concentrated face as he tried to piece some sort of mind puzzle together. It faltered with a sudden flashback of his lips being so near to your ear, arm around your waist. You cleared your throat.

“Hear me out, okay?” you nodded, urging him to continue with his hypothesis, “He never once complained about picking you up or dropping you off while he always refuses to do the same with Mina—”

“It's a sibling thing to do actually.”

“—He agreed to be your date in a go, without any persuasive means whatsoever—”

“I think that was out of pity to be honest.”

“—And wordlessly accompanied you for shopping, not to mention that he himself paid for your dress.”

He had concluded and you had run out of words, however you scoffed to see him writing it all down on a stray piece of paper, “Are you seriously making a list right now?”

Ignoring your heart racing faster with the points laid out, you snatched that list from him, to which he snickered.

“We're back!” Mina happily plopped in the chair next to you, and you hurriedly shoved the piece of paper in your pocket.

Yedam only exchanged a look which screamed that he's right just as Sunghoon sat down opposite to you.

You were less educated on the topic of what behavioural pattern should you be following when your said date gets cozy with you while also being your best friend's brother. All you were sure about that you enjoyed the activities despite them being wrong.

Friendship rule book would state that the siblings are always off limits, but never guided you for what to do when the said friend tries to pair you with her sibling.

Having a little fun wouldn't hurt anyone, right?

Right?

The drive back home would have been silent if not for the music playing on the car speakers. To no one's surprise, Mina had gotten off at Yedam's place, leaving you alone with the devil yet again. You were a either a puddle or a strangely confident mess around him, you couldn't follow the pattern still.

“Come on,” you practically dragged him inside your place, your mom and sister ecstatic to meet him and he shyly bowed down, your mom cooing at his good manners and upbringing while your sister was set on asking him questions about why he agreed to go with you, “You better not hurt her, Mr.” she spoke in a low voice.

“Would never do that to her, Miss.” he replied softly.

In the years you've known him, he had always been a polite person, respectful just as he was now towards your family, it warmed your heart slightly to see the cute interaction, a faint dimple resting happily on his face, and you were sure that his bad boy persona was just his exterior wall built up to not get hurt, something that you understood with your wall being high as well.

However, you weren't sure how long you could keep it up with the said dimpled boy being around.

Rummaging your other wallet, where you kept cash, you gathered the exact amount you had to pay him back.

“Don't do this,” he shook his head, keeping the notes on your desk.

“Hoon—” you glanced at how effortlessly he filled up the space between you two, standing closer now that you had privacy in your room.

“I know you wish to pay me back, but please don't do it, the dress looked gorgeous on you,” he coaxed, “Instead, you could pay me back by spending time with me, princess.”

He had you trapped around your desk with his arms on the either side of you, his words evoking a fuzzy feeling in your lower abdomen.

“Yeah?” you whispered softly, leaning in slightly.

Your hand felt tiny when you held his bigger one, taking two steps and pulling him towards your door, he followed without any question, always intrigued with your actions.

“I would spend time with you willingly,” you whispered, tucking the folded cash in his back pocket and you could feel how slender his waist was, “Good night, Park.”

You concluded the conversation by planting a firm kiss on his cheek, seeing a faint smile blooming on his face before you shut the door, biting your lip to stop yourself from grinning like a maniac, already looking forward to your next meet up.

“Are you really ditching me for your boyfriend? Is that what our friendship has come to?” you feigned hurt, waiting outside the theatre you had promised to meet at.

Nevertheless, her priorities had changed — replacing herself with her brother would be the top one, closely followed by her spending those hours with her boyfriend.

“I genuinely forgot, okay? I'm so sorry!” she insisted, “But you have nothing to worry about, Sunghoon will be there to keep you company, Bye!” with that, she hung up the call, leaving you confused for a second before you squinted your eyes, noticing a tall figure running up to you.

Unlike his usual self, he sported a light blue shirt today, jogging up to you with his hair bouncing slightly. He was awfully pleasant to look at.

“Hey, princesss. Hope the movie hasn't started yet,” he grinned when you took his extended hand in yours.

You shook your head, “You're right on time, Park.”

You learned a few things about Sunghoon on your way to your seat. First being that he would do anything but let you pay for the snacks, or anything else for that matter. Secondly, he's the kind to place an order for a couple's combo, meaning, you'd be sharing the big tub of popcorn. Third and last, he preferred sitting at the top corner seats, “It feels cozy,” he explained.

Throughout the movie, he made sure to dig in his hand in the popcorn bucket at the same time as yours, keeping it on his lap. Your hands brushed, making you feel giddy inside as if you were a new couple on the honeymoon phase of their relationship.

You rubbed your earlobe out of nervousness. His heart felt full seeing your gentle figure sitting next to him, his hands desired to encase your own, and so he did. His eyes on the screen as you could see the little characters moving around in his eyes, meanwhile, his thumb caressed and rubbed gentle circles on the back of your hand, providing you with warmth and comfort.

Mid-way the movie, his face was buried in your neck with an urgency, trying his hardest not to pay attention to the screen anymore.

It was beyond amusing that Park Sunghoon was scared of ghosts, it was getting hard for you to stifle your blooming giggles.

“Didn't know you were this adorable, Park,” you cooed, ruffling his hair which made him gulp and sit back up with a quivering lip.

“I just wanted to be close to you—” a glimpse back at the screen and he came back to hide himself in your neck.

He was just the company you had needed this long, the one you've been craving ever since you first got the hang of what intimacy tasted like.

Your teasing was endless, staring with poking his cheek, laughing at him softly and lastly, calling him a baby. He feigned annoyance, huffing and running to chase you, which would be your current situation.

With no plans to return home, he had given you an offer to have ice cream at the park which was favorably around the corner, hardly a five minute walk.

“I'll pay,” you stated, nodding your head once.

“No can do, princess,” he chuckled.

“Would you ever let me pay for anything at all?”

“You paid for the dress, that hurt me enough,” his big hand rested above his heart, eyes scrunched to indicate the pain.

“Oh come on! It's just an ice cream,” you whined, stopping like a toddler to make fuss, stomping your feet to show your exaggerated frustration.

He cooed at your ministrations as you made your way towards the ice cream shop, looking over the wide variety of treats to choose from, your eyes shining at the vibrant colours paired with the heavenly smell of sweetness hanging over the dimly lit shop which you had grown to be fond of in this brief visit of yours.

Sunghoon was quick to select his ice cream while you took time with yours, seeing so many new flavours you wished to try, you wondered why you had never been to this shop before.

“I'll pay!” you handed cashier your card which he accepted with a smile, Sunghoon shaking his head at the back with a hint of grin.

“Do you still ice skate?” you asked once you were settled on a wooden bench, a small pond right ahead with some cute ducks swimming around on a lookout for something edible.

Your question caught him off guard, “I—I haven't been to the rink in a long time,” he confessed slowly and you gave him a confused look.

“Do you miss it though?”

He nodded wordlessly.

You mimicked his action. Ever since you had first seen him skate with the courtesy of Mina, it was easy to fall in love with the way he glided around the ice so gracefully, fluffy hair bouncing around with his triple axel as he landed his foot in a perfect position, completing his sophisticated routine. You had always accompanied Mina for his competitions ever since. You had witnessed him getting better at his abilities.

With your ice creams almost finished, he looked your way, frowning when he saw you deep in thought.

“Hey,” he whispered, capturing your attention.

In a second, the last and your favourite part of the ice cream cone was gone, the culprit being Park Sunghoon who had his mouth full with a triumph smirk on his face.

“No you didn't,” it was more of a warning than anything else. He found the sight of your mouth hung open highly cute and funny.

“Uh uh,” he stopped your arm from flailing, holding you in place. “You've got a little something—” he trailed off just as he had done when he first came back home.

His finger was quick to wipe the curve of your smile, collecting the slightly melted ice cream you had messily left there before he took it closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling around his finger in a slow motion as he tasted it.

Your eyes closed autonomously. Taking in a deep breath, you stood up to chase Sunghoon and he ran with all his might, “You can't keep doing that!” you screamed and thanked your luck for the park being rather empty, you would have been a nuisance for the public otherwise.

“I can, I will,” his laugh made you smile back but you halted once you got near the ice cream shop, the same one you had been to not even twenty minutes back.

Sunghoon stopped turned to see what you were looking at, it was a guy, you didn't look too happy to see him. He jogged back to you.

“Hoon,” you turned him around so that your back was against the big tree, his figure hiding you from the vision of the guy who had rejected you.

He was sweet, but you admit it was embarassing for you to even go back at that memory. Especially when it was your first time trying after your heartbreak with Heeseung.

Peeking in a manner which won't expose your figure, you saw Yoshi with a girl. It was probably her, his date, but it looked like they were dating, bashful smile on his face.

You gasped when the you saw who he was with.

“Hoon, isn't that—”

“Anna,” he whispered, gulping down his emotions but his eyes reflected his feelings.

Anna was famous around the school for many reasons, she was graceful and kind to others, at least in front of them. However, her name was known by all once she started dating Sunghoon, the event being a big deal since he never went even close to kissing anyone, dating was a dream for them.

You were convinced that he looked at Anna with heart in his eyes, until one day they broke up, you didn't know the reason why, it wasn't your place to ask him anything.

Now, the love in his eyes was replaced by a mixture of hurt and hatred. At least that's what you gathered from your little act of espionage.

“Are they gone?” you asked in a whisper.

“They're leaving,” he replied, bringing his attention back to you.

The atmosphere had turned gloomy, the clouds filling up the sky as the evening approached.

“I think they left,” you spoke up a few seconds later, finally paying attention to the proximity, he had you trapped against the tree.

“They didn't,” he said without checking once, his gaze transfixed on your face and a question bugged your head unprovoked — how his lips would feel against yours.

You looked up at his deep brown eyes, his nose brushing against yours in a soft caress, making you stand up on your tippy toes, his hand on your waist helping you balance as you held on to his arm for support.

“Are you alright?” you asked gently, cradling his face. A shiver went down your spine when he opened his mouth to reply, his lips brushing yours.

“I want to kiss you,” the thoughts of you filled his mind, and you were more than willing to be a distraction for him.

“Then do it,” you urged in not more than a whisper.

He licked his lower lip, caressing your cheek with his thumb as his forehead rested on yours.

Your heart fluttered when his lips met yours in a gentle kiss and you could only focus on how soft and plump his lips felt against your own.

He smiled when he tasted the bits of chocolate from the ice cream you had earlier, the curve of his mouth made you smile into the kiss along with him. The warmth spreading around his body clearly indicating that it felt right, that Sunghoon had wanted to kiss you ever since he saw you with chocolate chip pancakes when he came back.

Maybe he had liked you prior to that, but never had a reason to act upon it until he got the opportunity to be with you, to experience it with you.

“Hoon,” your gasp made him pull you closer, he couldn't wrap his head around how pretty you were and how perfectly his name rolled off your tongue.

Your whole body tingled with his lean body pressed against yours, a sound desperately wanted to escape your throat, but you didn't let that happen.

He leaned back to see a white petal on your head, probably from the tree above, which picked off and blowed away, making you giggle. His cheeks were flushed and you could hear his heart beating fast as your hand rested on his chest.

“Let's go,” he took your hand.

“Where?” you asked, still breathless.

“Home.”

The place was empty when he pulled you in his room, it was clean and minimalistic, just as you thought it would be. You dreaded to bring the topic up, not wanting to mess up what had just started between you both, so you tried to approach him with hesitation.

“Can I ask you something?” you fiddled with your fingers.

“Yeah, of course,” he said, already knowing what was to come. He made you sit with him on the bed, facing you and making sure you were close to him.

“What happened back there?” you spoke slowly. Holding his hand and securely keeping it on your lap when you saw his vulnerable state.

“I don't know, I—I just froze when I saw her,” he started, “You've met her before,” you nodded, rubbing soothing circles on his hand.

“Anna was the first person I had genuinely grown to love and she was amazing, kept me on my toes, made me laugh until—” he suck in a breath, “—until she decided I wasn't enough.”

“What?” you thought they fell out of love, had a misunderstanding but never considered what he had to say next.

“She cheated on me while I was away at university, I had come back to surprise her and, yeah I got surprised with the sight in front of me.” his voice cracked and you wanted nothing more than to engulf him in a hug.

And so you did. He graciously accepted it, pulling you close enough for you to be on his lap. You noticed how he was shaking and you cupped his cheek.

“She's genuinely the worst human to have let gone of you,” you kissed his nose, “You're beautiful, amazing and most importantly, you're enough.”

You said those words in such a convincing manner that even he had grown to believe it.

“You think so?” he leaned forward.

“I know so,” you confirmed.

He let out a breath.

“You make me go crazy, y/n,” he whispered, leaning his forehead on yours.

“Use me,” you said, “To forget about her.”

“No,” he stopped you, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I want you, genuinely. She's got nothing on you, y/n.”

His words were as convincing as yours, which made you kiss him, pulling his nape closer to you, he groaned into the kiss.

“Tell me about you,” he said after breaking the kiss.

“Tell what?” you gulped.

“The reason of your sadness, you've been the most jolly person I've ever come across and you haven't been yourself lately,” he worded it carefully as to not hurt you.

You bit your lip once before gathering your thoughts, “I got heartbroken too, i guess.”

“Did he hurt you?” his voice held anger.

“No! Lord no. I hurt myself by expecting too much.” you frowned, thinking about your summer camp and the bambi eyed boy who took your first kiss. Your first love.

“Hey, I got you,” he kissed you again, distracting your mind from going into a spiral of the thoughts you did not need.

You tilted your head to give him more access to your neck, his scent filled up your nose, subtle yet musky, whimpering out his name as he bit your clavicle, kissing it right after.

“Like that?” he asked, continuing to give you his undivided attention.

You nodded, looking at him, basked in the sight of his pretty face, nose brushing on your skin which tickled you faintly.

“Y/n,” he called your name lowly, his hand travelling inside your top, caressing your waist, squeezing it gently.

You were sitting just above his crotch, which made you aware of his current state, chest heaving up and down when you felt him growing hard.

“See what you're doing to me,” he whispered, his lips on the shell of your ear.

Just then, he rolled his hips up, pressing his hardened cock on your clothed core, which had started to get wet with your current activities.

A sudden feeling of bravery took over your body, “You can't complain when you're doing the same,” you let out, unbuttoning your shorts, guiding his hand inside for him to feel your soaked panties.

The groan he let out was enough to make you go crazy, head clouded with the thoughts more lewd. “I'm gonna fucking ruin you,” he said, rubbing you through your panties.

“Do it, please! I want you to ruin me,” you said, expressing your eagerness with each word, pressing yourself down on his fingers to get more friction.

You were under him just a second after those left your mouth, his hand cradling your cheek, “You sure?”

Nodding, you looked at him with an innocent expression, he heard how staggered your breath had become, “I need words, princess.”

His fingers wrapped around your neck, applying the slightest pressure to get an answer out of you, “Yes—” you breathed out, gulping down.

You whined when he retreated his hand, getting up, however, the sight in front of you was a thousand times better than you could have ever imagined.

Park Sunghoon getting rid of his clothes in all his glory, skin glistening under the dim light of the room.

Eyes never leaving yours, he got closer again, faint line of abs in your view as his hands swiftly removed your shorts along with your panties, leaving you bare from bottom.

He sucked in his breath at the sight. It was clear how you affected him just enough if not more, desperation shining deep in his keen dark eyes. Even more so when you happily got rid of your top for him, revealing your valley of breasts. He wasted no time in settling himself between your legs, his kisses felt nothing less than him worshipping your body. Your eyes rolled back with pleasure as he found a particular spot on your neck which made you shiver, that being his favourite place to come back to.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, his hardened length poking your inner thigh, too close to your wet slit, where you needed him the most.

Meanwhile, your brain also wondered how you'd be able to fit his length in. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to your lips, brushing them against his in an urgent whisper, “Hoon, fuck me I beg you.”

“Shit. How can I ever say no to you, especially when you look at me like that?” he pumped his dick a few times, licking his lower lip as he positioned himself at your entrance, your wetness touching his tip.

He kisses you roughly as finally enters you in a go, thrusting a few times to bottom out inside you.

His lips silenced your moans, your mind turning into a mush with the stretch, lips chanting his name like a mantra, which his lips absorbed with a groan.

Your walls clenched around him, his breathing ragged with the warm feeling of having you around him. Having you under him wasn't something he should have ever thought about, but you gave him exactly what he wanted out of you, a reaction. Always shy and flustered around him, he loved that and looked forward to spending time with you, the physical attraction paired up with genuine liking, he had grown attached to you in the little time you spent together. However, he didn't consider it little for, you had always been around him one way or the other.

But having you under him topped it all. He can see how sensitive you've grown, so he decides to speed it up for your sake, teasing your nipples with his tongue as he pounded into you, his strength unmatched with the thrusts getting harder as you tried to contain your noises to prevent them reaching to other rooms. You couldn't afford that.

Your nails dug in his shoulders, dragging against his back hard enough to leave marks. He seemed to enjoy seeing you a squirming mess and he wondered how it would feel to hear your pretty whimpers and moans which you had been trying so hard to keep to yourself.

You felt like you were in heaven with a guy who didn't look any less than a greek god, fucking you with all he had, hitting your g-spot. You could barely comprehend anything but him, clenching around him harder when you felt his cock twitch inside of you, a familiar knot building in your lower abdomen.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered, thumb caressing your cheek, “Show me how pretty you look while cumming,” he said, holding himself back from filling you up.

You felt drunk on his cock as he whispered sweet nothings in the shell of your ear, his breath tickling you. He made sure to maintain his composure while rubbing your clit with his thumb, helping you approach your orgasm with his thrusts getting sloppier. You gasp at the feeling of your orgasm washing over, Sunghoon pulling his cock out, spilling his cum all over your lower abdomen as he hissed out lowly, eyebrows scrunched and lip bitten with the euphoria taking over you both.

You couldn't stop yourself from gathering his cum on your two fingers, sucking them clean with a hum while looking into his eyes.

“Good fucking lord, you are so mine,” he growled, pulling you up into a kiss, his hand on your nape to have you closer to him.

He saw your face glowing, a gentle smile on your face, which he returned, feeling giddy. He pulled you up as you yelped, giggling. The aura in the room had switched to something lighter, happiness filling the air as you saw his eyes absorbing every inch of you.

“You were amazing,” he pecked you gently. “You are amazing, y/n.”

His words made you feel valid and safe, something which had been lacking in your life from a while despite your loved ones trying their hardest to cheer you up. And you were thankful to have them all. He had the most adorable smile on his face the entire time he babied you, cleaning you up and throwing in compliments here and there, which made you hide your face behind your hands.

Now clad in his big black t-shirt, you lied down on his bed, him joining you soon. You fiddled with the end of his t-shirt, it smelled like him and you felt like a little baby being pampered.

“C'mere, I haven't kissed you enough,” he held you close, making you laugh at the small kisses he placed all over your face.

“Hey!” you whined as he avoided your lips. That successfully elicited a laugh out of him as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss.

“Thank you,” he spoke softly, making you furrow your brows, cuddling closer to him under your light blanket, the cool air of the airconditioner giving you goosebumps, his warmth being your escape from it.

“For being here—” he held your hand, “—and hearing me out, I'm not the best when it comes to the heart to heart talks.” he admitted with a small frown.

“You can always talk to me, I'm here,” you said softly, pecking his forehead before he pulled you in an embrace.

“You're beautiful,” he said out of nowhere, resulting in your scrunched up nose which he found more than adorable, pulling you into a another kissing session which made you realize and come to terms with one important thing—

You liked Park Sunghoon.

And he reciprocated your feelings.

Sunghoon's head was buried in your neck, his lips brushed your skin with a soft tickle and this sight was something you hadn't ever expected to see, however, you wanted to remember it forever. You fondly ran your fingers through his soft locks just like you had wanted to, until you got an abrupt reminder of what had happened.

You had sex.

With Park Sunghoon.

Your best friend's brother.

With that, you woke up faster than ever with the intention to leave before getting caught. You wanted to tell Mina before she found out with some other source. The possibility of her accepting your newest setting would be high, but it was something you didn't want to bet over.

Sunghoon groaned with the sudden movement of yours, which disrupted his peaceful sleep, he looks angelic while sleeping, you did admit.

“Y/n?” his voice came out raspy, deeper than his usual tone, which was both, a blessing and a curse. You were torn between a need to hear more of his voice and the urge to get out without anyone else noticing.

Keeping, your hormones aside, you opted for the latter option, shaking the said boy to wake him enough for him to interpret your words properly.

“Mornin',” he scrunched his nose, opening one eye before pulling you in a hug, holding you like a plushie before placing a sweet kiss on your head.

Getting him out of bed was hard, especially when he wanted nothing more than to sleep with having you in his arms. Nevertheless, you succeed in dragging him to the attached bathroom, waiting for him to brush his teeth while you tried to keep your prying eyes away from his naked torso.

“Come on, Hoon, I have to get back! I can't get caught here, I don't even know how Mina would react to that—your sister is unpredictable really—” he figured that the only way to stop your rambling would be to have you pinned between his arms, and he did so, your back pressed against the sink tiles as he smirked, showing a glimpse of his freshly brushed teeth—which took him five more minutes than you despite the initial start time being same for you both.

“Princess, calm down or else I'll have to fuck your mouth to shut you up,” he warned playfully.

As tempting as the offer was, you shut your mouth, looking away from his gaze before he laughed, helping you out and dropping you back to your place without anyone else noticing your presence.

He was adamant about you kissing him as a good bye, which you did to earn a goofy smile out of him. He pulled you in for another one before letting you go with a sad look showcasing his face.

You took the longest shower after, telling your parents you stayed over at Mina's, which wasn't a lie on your side. Each droplet on your skin felt like a blanket of comfort as your vulnerable body thought about each thing that took place last night. The thought of Mina not knowing was killing you. Of course, you weren't about to tell her the details but seeking permission felt only right for you.

Which is why you sat down at your usual seat at the little pink cafe nearby, waiting for your friend to come over, your fingers rubbing your ear as you thought of fleeing at the last moment. You had called her but you did miss one important thing — you had no way to clearly tell her what you and Sunghoon were.

Not when you weren't sure yourself.

“It's been ages since I last met you,” she made her loud entrance, hugging you right away.

“I missed you,” you said, hugging her back.

You did, you missed hearing her bitching about random girls who hit on Yedam, you missed watching Disney movies with her even when you both were well versed with each line of Frozen, you would watch it with her without question.

Catching up with her was easy, it had barely been two days which you didn't spend with each other, yet she had a ton of new gossip to mull over, almost making you forget about your worries.

Just something about the Park siblings made you feel better in a genuine manner, maybe it was in their genes to have a safe aura around them.

You were laughing at something she had told you about her ex, until you both grew silent—it was a comfortable one.

“I saw you yesterday,” she started slowly.

You opened your mouth to say something, your heart beating faster at the wait of what was to come.

“After his breakup, he never opened up to anyone,” Mina confessed, you looking at her with confusion. “He didn't even tell mom, or me, or anyone for that matter. His appearance changed to the darker kind—” she tried wording it up correctly, but got emotional mid-way, eyes teary, “I don't know, he stopped talking altogether and he wasn't even ready to come home for holidays, it was mom who dragged him here.”

“Mina—” you tried to find some comforting words, gripping your drink tighter, “—I didn't know, I'm so sorry.”

She let out a soft laugh, “Sorry? You bitch! I should be saying thank you to you, I don't know what black magic you're doing to him but he's talking, smiling even!”

You felt overwhelmed with this newfound information, your hopes of having something genuine with him was high, and the thought of being with him wasn't so scary anymore.

“And I heard him open up to you last night, I didn't hear it of course, I wouldn't want to invade his privacy and left, but I'm glad he's got you, y/n.”

She looked at you with soft eyes, “I warned him to take care of you, but I have this little request for you too,” you nodded, eyes teary as you saw your friend sniffling. And you cursed yourself for being so sensitive. “Take care of him as well, please.” her voice came out strained and you nodded urgently, giving her the best smile you could muster at the given moment.

You opted to walk back home, letting everything sink in. First love was something which you had kept on a pedestal, the idea of falling in love was beautiful, but you did hear about it being comparable to a rose—beautiful, attracts everyone with it's pretty colours and fragrance. Nonetheless, it came with thorns which were promised to prick your skin, to make you bleed. It hurt. Sunghoon didn't take it well, you wouldn't either had you been in his place.

The weather seemed to have heard your inner conflicts, it's mood changing into a gloomy one as little rain droplets fell on your body, making you shiver with the cold temperature of it.

You didn't mind the drizzle, you simply wanted to run to Sunghoon and smash your lips onto his. Like you had thought of before — Park Sunghoon was a soft boy with a delicate heart beneath that tough leather jacket. Your clothes sticking to your body with the wetness of the rain taking over.

The walk was peaceful and you didn't have the littlest clue of what was to come. A deep voice called out your name, grabbing your attention as you finally looked up. You had almost been home. Nevertheless, you weren't sure if it was your hallucination, or whether Sunghoon was standing in front of your place, hair wet and a sweet smile plastered onto his face as he saw you.

“Hoon?” you whispered, asking yourself if he was here, and he started walking towards you, which confirmed that you weren't going crazy. And you ran. Your heart talking control of your mind and he eagerly waited to pull you in a hug, but you had different plans.

Standing in front of him, you cup his cheek, standing on your tippy toes as you searched his eyes for any kind of hesitance. That's when he took your name again, hands on your waist, your body pressed against his as you finally smashed your lips on his, pulling him in a fervent kiss.

He had been restless ever since you had gone back to your place in the morning, he wanted to hold you again, to kiss you, to have you close to him. He wasn't a stranger to these feelings, well aware of how much he had grown to like you. So he simply came over to your place, only for your mom to say you're not home. Waiting for you seemed like the best idea since you hadn't checked his texts as well.

Park Sunghoon was a living fantasy, he swiftly removed his leather jacket, covering both your heads before pulling you closer by the nape. You laughed softly as his strong hands kept you up when your legs started to get wobbly, he drove you insane.

“Sunghoon,” his name rolled off your tongue perfectly.

“I wanted to see you, I fucking miss you every second of my day. What have you done to me?” he spoke up, voice coming out as a breathless whisper.

Your heart melted at how effortlessly he confessed his feelings for you, made you feel like you mattered.

“Kiss me,” you replied, and he wasted no time in doing so, his lips feeling like a soft caress on yours, plump and molding perfectly against your own.

Your heart fluttered more than ever, and you knew he felt exactly the same with how fast his heartbeat was, your hand on his chest, your cheeks heating up with the feeling of happiness filling you up.

You wanted him around for a long time.

He made sure to do so.

The next few days were incredible, your parents were more than happy to see your eyes shining like they usually did, Kitty teased you with Sunghoon's name, laughing at how breathless you got with the thought of him being even close to you.

As for the said guy, he intended on being close to you. Just like how he paid a visit to you at midnight the other day, being the epitome of cliché as he got out a ladder to climb up to your room, your panicked face sending him into a laughing fit. He was unbelievable, going from being soft and cuddling with you, to grabbing your breast from behind, his hard on poked your ass. You gasped as he kept his hand over your mouth, trailing down sweet kisses on your neck before you pleaded for more. He held you close as he fucked you from behind, his nose brushing against your nape, and you could only close your eyes with how full and content you felt with him.

He couldn't get enough of you, especially when he hadn't heard you whimper out his name, so he decided to take you on a long drive in his beloved car, driving you to a breathtaking area, a secluded spot where the stars shined brightly.

Under that blanket of dark blue beauty, he kissed you, helping you get on his lap. That's when he heard you whimper for the very first time, he fucked you in his car, his big hands on your waist as he guided you through your orgasm, hips grinding on his dick until he filled the condom in you, pulling you into a fervent kiss right after, fingers gripping your hair to hold you in place.

He was a passionate kisser and he had grown addicted to have your lips on his. Demeanor changing soon after, he wanted to fill you up with all his love, he spent time staring at your sleeping figure after he had taken you back home, car parked in front of your place, but he had no heart to wake you up, especially when he found you the cutest in your sleepy state. He woke you up with kisses and helped you inside. Your parents loved him for being responsible and caring towards you.

Your nights were more for texting him, face timing him rather than sleeping. He went as far as singing in his deep baritone for you to sleep. He would never admit to it but his voice genuinely sounded pretty, at least to you.

With a few days left for prom, you had spent almost all days together, Mina stealing you for some days, at which he pouted with a sulky face. You could only coo, giving him a kiss on his mouth.

Seeing him staying away from ice skating was painful, even for you, and so you surprised him by taking him there, “Teach me?” you smiled, hugging him when you saw a flicker of emotion on his face. And he did, laughing as you tried to balance yourself, his hands on your waist coming to your rescue from falling down.

“Thank you,” he spoke gently, not caring about the few other people around the rink as he pulled you closer and into a soft kiss, caressing your cheek right after.

“Don't thank me,” you whispered with earnest eyes.

“Happiness looks good on you,” you had smiled before skating away.

And he swore his heart never felt this full before.

A maximum of three days later, he wanted to take you out yet again.

He took you out to the very same amusement park where you had third wheeled with Mina and Yedam. This time, however, he had decided he wanted you alone, not bothering to invite anyone else. That particular day was full of zeal, the air had a light breeze with the sun shining brightly over your head, not the kind to be irritating, but the kind that makes you feel fresh. His fingers intertwined with yours the entire time, he even got you matching headbands with a shy smile and you pinched his cheeks, ear tips red.

You squealed when he kissed you on top the ferris wheel, “Cliché, right?” he had asked after breaking the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.

“You're a dork, I hope you know that,” you had laughed.

“It kills me,” he pouted, dropping you back home, his hand resting on your thigh.

“What does?” you mindlessly asked, eyes fixated on the shaded sky, watching the sun say good bye for the day.

“I won't be able to see you tomorrow,” he whined, and you laughed.

Things had changed, his tough boy exterior always vanished around you, and, well, he wanted to spend every second of his day in your presence.

“It's just a day, Hoonie, I have to have my beauty rest and pampering sessions before the big day, no?” you asked, talking about prom which was to take place overmorrow, “Besides, you can always send in your random memes and text me.”

“Texting isn't enough.”

“Then what is?” you asked, lips turned up as you knew exactly what he had in mind.

“I'll show you.”

Safe to say, you ended up on his lap, his lips not having enough of you as he took his sweet time before letting you leave, texting you as soon as he got back to his room too.

Your to-do list had a myriad of tasks, namely—waxing, getting your hair done, a facial clean-up and some other minute things you had to pick up. Mina was your company for the day, she scrunched up her nose each time you told her about a certain thing you did with Sunghoon, calling it gross with an amused face. You definitely kept the spicy details to yourself, not wanting to traumatise her.

“But I really am glad to see you both happy, and that sounds sappy, and that rhymes—what the fuck?” your best friend rambled on continuously while getting her nails done, the assistant applying the last coat of nail polish on it. Meanwhile, you were done with yours, shaking your head at the series of texts Sunghoon had sent.

“That's gross,” she scrunched up her face at the kissing emojis Sunghoon had sent.

He was a cheesy texter, you admit.

Nevertheless, you felt happy.

Looking back, you would have laughed had someone said that you'll be going to prom with the infamous Park Sunghoon, who just happened to be your best friend's brother.

The reality, however, didn't seem bad to you, in fact, you loved every bit of it. Time passed by slowly, and you wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again but were not allowed to do so.

It was the day, the reason why you had grown close to Sunghoon—your prom day. You probably wouldn't even have been talking to him had he not accepted Mina's offer to be your date. So, you had to thank Mina for her over the top ideas and overexcited state.

And to top your hopeless state, Sunghoon had been teasing you since the morning, sending you arm pics as he flexed his muscles for you to see how ripped he had gotten. You didn't want wetness pooling in your panties with him not around to help you out, so you kept your phone a safe distance away, ignoring the poor boy who ended up shaving to pass his time, scrolling back to read your older texts. The chat history wasn't supposed to be this long considering you had started texting a total of twenty five days back.

“Don't move!” Mina screamed.

“I can't fucking help it!” you said, using the exact tone as her.

“If you move again then your liner will be smudged and then Sunghoon, ew by the way, would run away and then you'll come back to me, crying.”

“That's not how it works.”

Mina had been trying to perfect your liner from the past seven minutes, and your constant squirming didn't assist her well. You weren't sure if it was excitement or anxiety.

“Finally,” she sighed, moving back and you sank into your seat, finding your messed up posture comfortable before drinking water. You opened your eyes after Mina confirmed that your liner was fully dried, looking at your reflection in the mirror.

The lipstick shade complemented to your skin shade well as you smiled, eyes looking estatic in wait of him seeing you like this. And you couldn't help but ponder about how he would look in his black suit, a white button up which would fit his body perfectly—

No. You shook your head, helping yourself to be devoid of any thoughts which could possibly make you needy.

“Get dressed, quick!” she clapped her hands, coming out of the bathroom after she had changed. She wore a light pink, silky, off shoulder dress which reached her knees.

You whistled lowly, “Damn you look hot—”

“—and you should leave before I make-out with you,” she replied in a breath, making you laugh, you followed her instructions nevertheless.

The black dress fit you perfectly, and you wished Sunghoon was here to zip it up for you like the previous time, the very time he had made your legs feel like a jelly, and you could only wonder how his reaction would be while seeing you in all your glory.

“You know what? Maybe we should make-out,” Mina gasped, looking at you up and down, which made you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, Yedam would kill me though,” you played along.

“Who cares about him, I want you,” she purred and you both broke into a fit of giggles just a second later.

“Speaking of the devil, he's here! I'll be leaving first, and Sunghoon is on his way! And uhm, don't forget to keep your lipstick and spare tissues with you, wear the second set of heels instead of the first one, see you!” you wondered how she spoke it all in a breath but you hugged her softly, thanking her for helping you out, to which she slapped your arm.

She practically ran after, shouting good byes to your parents downstairs and you shook your head at her usual antics.

“Oh, y/n, you look beautiful,” your parents said and your sister giggled at your mom's emotional state, seeing her daughter grow into a beautiful woman was something she would never be able to get used to, especially when you're still their little girl.

You hugged them softly, not to mess up your styled hair. Just then, the bell rang and you noticed a camera in Kitty's hands. “Oh no, you won't be embarassing me today—”

“Oh yes, we have to get a picture of his reaction when he sees you, duh! Go and hide!” she shooed you away, asking you to hide near the staircase.

And you obliged, heartbeat racing with the urge to see him, kiss him. That wasn't something you'd do in front of your family, hence, you kicked that thought out of your mind.

“Good evening—” his voice reached your ears and suddenly, your mom started complimenting him, gushing about how handsome he looks, Kitty following the suit while your dad made sure to remind him to take care of you, the usual dad stuff basically.

That's when you took a deep breath, coming out to reveal yourself, your heels clanking against the floor successfully captured his attention.

Your eyes are fixated on his face to memorize his expression. His mouth hung open slightly, eyes raked up and down your body, absorbing every inch of your beauty, breathing hitched and hands clutching a bag and a bouquet of flowers tighter than intended.

A flash of light snapped him out of his daze.

“Awestruck? Perfect for the album!” your sister squealed and you sighed.

Your legs felt weak already with his presence around you, specially when he looked like a guy straight out of your fantasy. Hair combed and parted to the side, suit hugging his figure perfectly, lips plump and soft, a watch adorned his hand with a few rings on his finger. Jaw well defined with a face that was carved by the god himself. Safe to say, you were in a daze too.

Your parents excused themselves, dragging a very pouty Kitty away—who wished to see the whole ordeal as if it were a movie.

“Hey, you—” he walked towards you, stretching his hand to give you a pretty bouquet of baby's breath, remembering how you had once mentioned them in a conversation, saying they look pretty, “—you look stunning,” you wrapped your fingers to accept the flowers, but he only pulled you closer, “And so fucking hot.”

His breath fanned the shell of your ear, “Glad to see you learned how to zip your dress up,” he spoke lowly and you pushed him, shy with his sudden advances.

He found you just as cute as he did when he wiped that chocolate from the corner of your lip. “Hey, c'mere.”

His whisper was soft as he took out a pretty corsage from his bag, securing the tiny flower bouquet as you looked at him with fond eyes, “This is beautiful,” you breathed out, overwhelmed and giddy to have him around you.

“Beautiful flowers for my beautiful girl,” he smiled, placing his fingers under your chin, making you look up at him, “Beautiful, beautiful girl.”

His lips brushed against yours, your nose touching his as he placed a feather light kiss, so delicate that you barely felt it. With that, he stepped back and you whined.

“Can't have your lipstick getting smudged already, can we?” he teased, and you pouted.

“Unfair! You're not getting any kisses tonight then.”

“We'll see, princess.” he said, arm out and you grabbed it, “Shall we?” he asked, voice resembling that of a royalty.

“We shall, prince.” you laughed softly, shouting a good bye to your parents and asking your mom to put the flowers in a jar before leaving for your prom. Finally.

You had started to think that Park Sunghoon had gone absolutely crazy with the amount of teasing he has done in the span of your short drive. It's normal for him to place his hand on your thighs, however, squeezing and inching it up was a new action.

“Hoon,” you had gulped and he only shook his head slowly.

“Shh, baby, I'm trying my hardest not to fuck you here.”

And you've been a mess ever since, his hand rested on your waist while you made your way inside the venue, the decorations were far more grand than you had imagined, whole student body on the dancefloor, jumping and smiling as they moved their bodies with the rhythm, the food section on the other side and tables set for you all to rest and sit down. Your eyes met Mina on the dance floor and she winked at you, while you blew her a kiss, waving towards Yedam.

Sunghoon's hold was tighter as he noticed a some faces glancing your way, you being the object of either desire or envy with your beauty. Pairing that up with Sunghoon being your partner, it was a topic of gossip since no one knew how and when Anna had broken up with him, and since when was he with you. Rumours were sure to spread soon.

However, you weren't bothered, school was over and you had to leave for university soon, waiting for the acceptance letters to come back.

“May I have this dance?” he asked, keeping up his royal agenda for the night.

Your eyes crinkled as you smiled, “You may.”

He led you to the dance floor, hands settling down on your waist as he pulled you flush against his chest, swaying slowly despite the music being fast which elicited a hearty laugh out of you, his own fangs showing in a wide smile.

He spins you towards him so your bodies are pressed against each other, his blazer touching your bare clavicle, hands circling your waist, placing subtle teasing touches here and there.

Your majority of the time was spent while dancing, and of course, Park Sunghoon had to be a good dancer and you were convinced that there was nothing he couldn't do. Except, he didn't kiss you the whole night. He had you on your tippy toes each time he came closer to you, but never once fully pressed his lips against yours as if he was testing your patience.

“I'm gonna get a drink,” you said, sulking away from his figure and he pulled you back.

“Sorry to say, but that drink is a hundred percent spiked,” he let out and you sulked further.

“I'm thirsty!” you whined.

“So am I,” he said, but the desire in his eyes told you that you both were talking about two completely different kind of thirsts.

“You're not getting shit, Park,” you smirked, feeling the need to talk back all of a sudden and he played with a strand of your hair.

“Why is that, kitten?” the new nickname made you gulp down, looking away for a second.

“Figure that out yourself,” you said, walking away and he followed you as you stood at the back with the crowning of prom king and queen taking place, something you didn't have any particular interest in.

“I can make you cum untouched, y'know?” he continued with his comments, which you'd admit, did affect you.

“Shut up, someone will hear!” you gasped out.

“Look, it's the asshole,” Mina came by your side, to which Sunghoon groaned, but looked at where she was pointing.

Anna, the prom queen. It was expected with how hard she had been trying to please everyone the whole year, votes went to her and the smile on her face was too bright for your liking. The king however, was some guy from the football team, Yoshi standing there with a small smile as he watched his girlfriend click pictures with another guy.

You genuinely felt bad for him, a frown on your face.

“I can't believe she came here with Yoshi!” she spoke up, a distasteful expression on her face.

“I know,” you whispered.

Sunghoon looked blank at the scene, not even bothering to look at his ex, when he had you to look at. He knew for certain that the only thing she cared about was her image.

“I'll be staying with Yedam for the night so don't worry about me not getting home,” she told Hoon simply and his eyes widened.

“No funny business or you're dead,” he spoke with serious eyes and you laughed, Mina slapped her forehead and Yedam looked at her for help.

“Have fun!” you winked at her, dragging Sunghoon away—who had a lot to say to Yedam.

The night was going peacefully, you giggling at something Sunghoon was whispered in your ear. You had been blaming him for being a tease all night, while he claimed to have done nothing of that sort.

“Okay, don't blame me because I won't be able to stop,” he said, pulling you closer by nape and kissing you right on your mouth, tongue entering your mouth as you gasped, humming at what you had been craving for the whole night.

You looked at him with a dizzy smile, shy at how easily he took in control and swept you off your feet.

Your smile dropped when you saw Yoshi waving at you, his expression unreadable as Anna excused herself from him, making her way towards where you and Sunghoon stood, a small smile on her face. Some people halted to see the interaction between the exes, you standing there with your hands in his, squeezing it gently to reassure him.

“Hey! Y/n, was it?” she smiled, too sweet for it to be real.

“Hey, Anna,” you forced a smile of your own.

Her eyes went down to see your fingers intertwined with his, a muscle in her jaw twitching.

“Hoonie,” she breathed out, eyes softening.

And you cringed at the name, despite it being the one everyone used for him. It didn't sound pleasant coming out of her mouth. Especially when you knew what she did to him.

“Anna,” his reply was short and nod curt, he turned towards you, not planning to drag the unnecessary conversation any longer.

“Didn't peg you to be the kind to have hots for your sister's friend,” she spoke quickly, grabbing his attention back again and Hoon was just as fast to reply, reporting before you could say anything.

“Yeah? Exactly like how I didn't peg you to be a fucking cheater.”

His voice being loud enough for a few people to hear, then he dropped his tone with a smirk, “Bet your little boyfriend doesn't know that yet.”

Her expression was that of a horrified one, and you only smiled at her, the same sickening sweet one which she gave you a minute back.

With that, you and Sunghoon left hand in hand, you dragging him out to get some fresh air. The night sky was pretty, sun had set and the breeze was soothingly cool. Leaning against the brink wall outside, he let out a laugh, a genuine laugh.

“I can't believe I said that.”

“I mean, she deserved it.”

You smiled, seeing him answer her fearlessly, unlike how he had been the other day, scared and insecure.

“I do not know how but, you give me confidence,” he breathed out, eyes shining under the moonlight, “And—”

He cupped your cheeks, “—I like you so much, I cannot stop smiling when I look at you.”

His confession made your heart skip a beat and you searched his eyes for any hint of joke or humour. You didn't find any.

“I—I like you more than I like anyone else, Sunghoon,” you spoke up, both your eyes teary at the scene.

And you meant it whole heartedly.

“Let's get out of here.”

You nodded, running as best as you could muster in your heels to get in the car with him. Excitement coursed through his body, he was estatic at your revelation, thinking that you'd reject him by calling him just a fling. However, seeing that wasn't the case made him smile uncontrollably, he had to bite on his lip to prevent it from showing on his face.

“Hey,” he whispered, turning your way to buckle your seatbelt up, nose brushing against yours as you shyly mumbled a hey back, which lead him to swoon over your cute demeanor, rewarding you with a sweet kiss on your lips, his own lips were covered in your lipstick, making him look prettier than you could have imagined.

You wondered how fun it would be to do his makeup if he allowed you to. Different scenarios filling up your mind as you thought of endless possibilities of your future, not bothering to think about leaving for college just yet.

It didn't take him long to drive you back to his place with how needy he was, pulling you inside his room and closing the door right after, pinning you against the door and holding your waist up, his lips on yours in a slow and sensual kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

He gently placed you on the bed, his lips never leaving yours as he supported his weight on his arms above you.

“Princess,” his voice was breathy and you felt dazed.

You leaned in to kiss him again but he pulled back with a smirk, “Seems like you're enjoying this a little too much.”

It made you whine, trying to pull him closer and he only pulled back further.

“Sunghoon, don't tease me!” you pouted.

“Are you asking or begging?” his voice came out deep.

“—Please?” you tried begging with the softest eyes you could muster.

Even his simple words were enough for you to submit to him, his body commanding your every move.

“Such a good girl,” he pulled you in a fervent kiss before dipping to whisper, “My good girl.”

You had always loved praises of all kinds, but never expected to get aroused hearing something so simple.

“Come on,” he pulled you up, easily turning you around, “I love this dress on you,” his lips touched your shoulder blade, “But I think we don't need it right now.”

He wasted no time in zipping down your dress, his fingers trailing on your spine, while leaving you bare in just your panties. He followed the suit, getting rid of his blazer and he almost lost his mind when you helped him unbutton his white shirt, groaning as your fingers touched his body, caressing his faint abs before you squeezed his cock which looked painfully hard under his pants.

He pushed you on the bed yet again, getting rid of his pants as well to show you how much he wants you.

“Hoon—” you shivered as he parted your legs, practically tearing your underwear away.

“So fucking pretty, I need to mark you up. Fuck, I can't wait to have my cock in your tight pussy, can't wait to fuck my pretty girl.”

Your back arched into him as he used his tongue flat on your clit, your fingers gripping his hair to keep him in place, “Hoon, y—you feel so good!” your voice was like a melody to his ears. You only bucked your hips up his face to get more of him.

He came up to kiss you, making you taste yourself on his tongue as you moaned in his mouth. True to his words, he sucked and licked on your clavicle, leaving it sore, sure to turn into a reddish purple colour by tomorrow.

His thumb rubbed against your clit harshly, and your soft moans drove him crazy, he wanted to take his time with you.

“Please fill me up, I want you,” you whispered as he pressed his tip on your slit, rubbing it slightly to coat his tip with your arousal, “Lord, I like you so much! I want you so much—” you gasped as he silenced you with a kiss, carefully pressing himself into you, filling you to the brim.

He pulls out slowly before pushing himself back in, continuing his ministrations as you held on to his shoulders, gripping them hard while his name rolled off your tongue in the perfect manner.

It's intimate, slow and he can't focus on anything else but your face, mouth slightly open, eyes closing with pleasure and lips swollen with how hard he had kissed you earlier.

He intertwines his fingers with yours, resting them on the expanse of the bed, a few more thrusts made you hum.

“You're beautiful,” he spoke up, stopping to stare at your state yet again, “So very beautiful, can't get enough of you.”

His words made you shy, his thumb stroking the curve of your lips as he looked at you with admiration, wanting to be closer than you more than ever.

The touch wasn't enough, you craved more, you begged for more.

“I can't hold it anymore,” he spoke up, thrusting in again as your warm walls welcomed him. You could see his cock disappearing inside your hole.

“I'm gonna cum, Hoon!” you admitted out loud as well.

“Go ahead baby, I got you,” at that very moment, you let go and arch your back with your arousal coursing down your body, his own length twitching inside you.

However, you stopped him before he could pull out, “Fill me up please, want to filled up with your cum,” you requested, making you mention that you're on your pill to him yet again and, with an offer so tempting, he couldn't say no.

He was filling you up after a few more thrusts, resting his face in the crook of your neck, his breath fanned your skin as you closed your eyes, tiredness seeping into your body with how hectic your day had been.

Most importantly, you felt loved throughout it all, Sunghoon gave you his undivided attention at all times, you had grown so used to being around him, being without him felt like torture.

“Tired?” he asked, settling down next to you.

“Mhm,” you nodded, snuggling closer to him as he kissed the tip of your nose.

“Let's get you ready for bed, yeah?” he said softly, helping you clean your makeup as he stood between your legs, placing you on the sink counter.

He smiled at your sleepy state, being gentle with you.

He held you for the night, “I like you,” he said softly.

“I like you too,” you giggled as he rubbed his nose against yours before spooning with you.

And you drifted to the dreamland peacefully. It was a prom to remember, and even while sleeping, Sunghoon was only person who serenaded your mind.

Your sleep was disturbed by your loud ringtone. Groaning, you woke up and checked to see the caller—your mom. You groggily answered the call.

“Mum?” you asked.

She replied hurriedly, calling you home that very instant. Your eyes widened and you rushed to gather your clothes, waking up Sunghoon in the process.

“What's wrong?” he asked, eyes adjusting to the light.

“Home. Now.”

The room was silent, everyone staring at your figure while you shut your eyes, palms pressed together in a deep prayer before you breathed out, gulping down the anxiety building up in your stomach.

You nodded, wetting your lower lip before grabbing the envelope in front of you, tearing it open in the most gentle manner, agonizingly slow. All eyes were on your face as your eyes read through what was printed on the paper.

You had to bite your lip to stop it from quivering as you lowered your sheet, opening and closing your mouth.

“Decelis University, Seoul—” your voice was barely a whisper before it got louder, “—I got accepted.”

Your revelation led to rounds of screaming and suddenly, you were pulled into a group hug with everyone congratulating you sporting the most genuine smiles on their faces. Giggles left your mouth with everything going on, you called Mina, telling her and she started crying on the call, “Fuck I'm so proud of you y/n,” she sniffled.

Decelis University was your dream university, the one you'd so dearly wished to get into. You had submitted the forms for both, Seoul and the Busan branch, the prior being your topmost priority and you were overwhelmed to say the least.

“Hey,” Sunghoon was by your side just as he saw your sudden change in expression, “What's wrong?” he asked, concerned.

“Nothing,” you shook your head, plastering a fake smile on your face.

He didn't buy it, however, he didn't push you to tell him and only ended up talking about it again while you both sat down at the nearby park, watching the sunset. Your happiness had a hint of sadness to it, he could sense it.

“Are you happy?” he asked simply.

The question caught you off guard, “Yeah! Yeah, of course I am.”

“Princess,” he sighed, “You've been frowning the whole time.”

You winced, wondering if your feelings were that evident on your face. Head in your hands, you tried to gather your thoughts to formulate some sort of excuse.

Instead, you were pulled into a hug, Sunghoon's hand softly caressing your hair, “You don't have to say anything, okay? Just tell me this is temporary and you'll be okay soon after.”

You snuggled closer to him, “I'm just—worried.”

“Hm? What's it, baby?”

“This is gonna stop really stupid,” you laughed a little before pulling back and answering. “I don't know what we are, Sunghoon. You'll go back to Busan for your uni and I'll be shifting to Seoul soon. The thought of being far from you after this month—It doesn't settle well with me.”

You hid behind your hands again, which he grabbed to kiss your nose softly, “You've been worried about this the whole time?” he asked slowly, a sad smile on his face.

He couldn't lie, he thought about it more times than just once. Deep inside, his insecurity had screamed about how he should hold you back, just for the sake of him. You're basically starting a new life in Seoul, and he doesn't wish to be an object of hindrance in your way. It was awfully eerie how you both had the same thought running in your mind. You didn't wish to stop Sunghoon either, always thinking how he could find someone better than you.

You knew that overthinking would be your downfall.

“And, you're leaving soon too.” your words were strained.

“I don't want to,” he admitted.

“But you have to, and so do I,” you couldn't look him in the eye anymore.

The one thing you couldn't handle was the distance—once grown, it was sure to end up drifting away even far with the limitations in interactions.

“Then, let's just make the most of it, hm?”

You couldn't do anything else but nod, trying to calm your heart which was a fraction away from breaking. Again.

He held you the entire time you needed to be okay. But you wondered how you'll be okay after he actually leaves.

“Will you be there tomorrow?” you asked in a low voice.

“I wouldn't dare miss your graduation,” he promised.

True to his word, you found him sitting at the back with your and his own family as you and Mina waved at them excitedly. It was something you had grown accustomed to, mustering up a smile even when you felt empty inside. The expression worked wonders on others.

The ceremony went smoothly, genuinely making you feel content with everything. You hugged Sunghoon when he practically sang out congratulations for you, not caring about the others around you. Your parents were happy at the sight of you and Sunghoon, almost as if they were ready to give their blessings and get you married already, your mother not so discreetly talking about the same while Mina and Yedam laughed at their excitement.

It was another one of those days where the weather wasn't too hot or too cold. He took you out for ice cream right after, making sure to go to the exact shop where you went after your little impromptu movie date, soon going to little arcade nearby where you won all the games, while he sulked around for losing. Maybe he wasn't an all rounder after all.

A month was over and the only question lingering on your mind was—when was Sunghoon going to go back.

Although that was the very thing you didn't wish to ponder upon, however, he told you exactly that before dropping you off at home, in the silence of his car.

“I'm leaving tomorrow.”

You didn't look at him, staring at your lap instead. Facing such situations wasn't your strong suit.

“I—” your tears didn't let you finish your sentence, you rushed to go back inside your place, which was empty since your parents and sister had gone out to your aunt's place for the night.

Sunghoon called out your name with desperacy, following you inside without second thoughts.

“Listen to me just once, please!” his voice came out strained.

“I don't want this,” you spoke up, a tear trailing down your cheek and you wished you to have been less attached. “I can't lose you.”

He pulled you closer until you were crying on his shoulder, his own lip trembling with guilt. He never thought he'd get so attached to you, but how could he not? Especially when you looked at him with those eyes, the same eyes he fell in love with in the span of a month.

“Let me make it up to you, please.”

It was his desperacy that spoke up, he wished to make love to you, to hold you for one last time, not knowing what the future held for you both.

“Make love to me, Sunghoon,” your voice was broken but he obliged.

It was slow how he undressed you, memorizing every inch of your body, placing kisses whenever he could just to hear your gasp. The silence was loud, the only sound in the room was due to your activites.

Sunghoon couldn't help but look into your eyes the entire time he was inside you, thrusting gently as he hit all your good spots, blinding you with his essence.

It was gentle, he was so sweet, whispering the words of affirmation in your ear, calling you his girl, his pretty girl. He couldn't stop himself from placing his lips on yours every minute, wishing to be closer to you. Your body quivered, arms wrapped around his neck as you reached your euphoria with him, muttering curses with the heightened sensation.

He kissed your tears away, placing feather light kisses all over your face.

You had grown to love him.

He never wished to leave you.

His arms tightened around your body as he held you to sleep, scared that you'll disappear when he wakes up.

You simply showered him with love, caressing his cheeks as you saw him sleep in your arms, clinging onto you like a koala, the sight was so endearing, it lead you to a peaceful sleep soon after.

Waking up in his arms felt more painful than ever, the pain only escalating when you followed him to the airport, Yedam driving you there as Mina sat shotgun. Sunghoon was clad in all black, just like the day he had came back. He simply hugged his sister, teasing her about something only he knew about. Next up, he warned Yedam to be on his behaviour with his sister, to which he nodded with earnest eyes.

That left you to be the last one to say good bye to him. There was so much you wanted to say to him, so much you wished you could have done with him. Heck, you'd do anything to take him out for ice skating just one more time.

“H—hoon,” you didn't wish to cry, not like this. Even your friend was frowning at your fragile state, however, there was no one to blame for this.

“Shh,” he pulled you in a tight hug, his own emotions getting the best of him.

Your heart twisted as you looked him in the eye, face contorted, lingering sadness in his deep brown eyes. The words were strangled in your throat as you tried to speak up.

“I—”

“I know.” His words were soft before he took your hands, placing soft kisses on your knuckles, “I do too,” he said, reaching to cup your face, pressing one last kiss on your lips, letting it linger for a few seconds before he pulled away, giving you the smallest smile as he made his way inside the airport, not forgetting to get one last look at your sad figure as he finally left for Busan.

That very moment, you realized that falling in love was easy but getting over it was hard. It hadn't even been five minutes and Sunghoon had texted you already. However, you could only cry silent tears of conflict your feelings faced, Mina held you the entire time, saying sorry for absolutely no reason, somehow blaming herself for being the one who started the story of you and Hoon. You didn't regret it, being with Sunghoon was a dream, a dream that ended in the little time of a month.

You texted, called and did all you could to keep your bonds strong, not putting a label on your relationship, however, you drifted as the time passed by. With you moving to Seoul and him working hard towards achieving a better grade, you lost contact. Your fingers itched to call him, but you couldn't muster enough courage to do so, not knowing that he faced the same dispute.

Insecurity won in the end.

It was like a replay all over again and you swore to not let anyone get close to you now that you were in your new setting.

Seoul was a beautiful city, a busy one which kept you on your toes, your schedule different from your usual one and you indulged yourself in working hard to maintain your gpa.

Yet the little voice at the back of your head made sure to remind you of a certain guy who called you princess.

And just like you had done before, you decided to write him a letter.

The one which will stay in your safe box for the entirety of its life.

Dear Park Sunghoon,

It was a cold winter day when I had first met you at the bus stop. The air was freezing with no seats left on the bus except for one. You opted to stand instead of taking the seat, offering it to me despite being a stranger. Perhaps that was the very day I had grown to like you, the small moles scattered all over your face only added to your beauty.

I never thought I'd run into you again. I certainly hoped I did because the way you looked back, giving me a small wave before getting off the bus was enough of a reason for my brain to imprint your face in my memory.

But I saw you again once I befriended Mina, the little smile on your face told me that you, indeed, remembered me.

Even with our little interactions over the years, I had grown to like you, to like how sweet you were, how selfless you were when you offered to get food for us in the seventh grade, when your mom wasn't around. I was sure you never saw me as more than just your sister's best friend, and I was content with it.

However, this time you came back like a cold breeze, bringing comfort to my existence on a hot summery day, lingering for a while until it was hot all over again.

I thought you had changed with your changed demeanor and black leather jacket. But I was wrong, you were the same guy I met in the bus all those years back. You drove me around without complaining a bit, you even agreed on accompanying me to the prom when you could have easily said no.

You teased me like it was your business, you kissed me like you meant it. You swept me off my feet, Park Sunghoon, and I landed straight in the comfort of your strong arms.

Our time together was short-lived, but it didn't stop me from falling in love with you.

You were so perfect, holding me close, giving me the warmth I had always craved. You let me in, let me explore the beauty of you and I don't think I'll get over the magic that you hold in your eyes.

I found it to be the most adorable thing when you hugged me like a baby, being scared of the ghost in the movie. That very day, you kissed me for the first time and I broke all my walls to let you in.

Seeing you skate was a sight for sore eyes. The way you carry yourself is no less than a royalty. Mayhaps that is why I ended up falling deeper for you.

We found solace in each other, you helped me overcome my past while you mentioned how my presence helped you with the same.

But you never taught me how to overcome this overflowing love I have for you.

It's been months since I last saw you, and not a day has passed by when I didn't wonder about this.

Did we give up too easily?

Could we have worked out despite the cruel distance?

I'm not certain as to what will happen the next time we meet, if we ever meet. But it is certain that you will always have a special place in my heart. I'm writing this letter in order to come to terms with my own feelings, but I'll always wonder about this one thing, Sunghoon.

Did it hurt you as much as it hurt me?

Love,

The girl you took to prom.

THANK YOU FOR READING! <3

PERMANENT TAGLIST 1:

@en-cityzen @sunghoonsworld @softforqiankun @eunoia-kth @lix-freckle3 @woniebae @baekhyunstruly @sungniverse @criceofpain @starryjakey @wntrsgf @heelariously @liliansun @hoonstrology @abdiitcryy @w3bqrl @9900z @so-jays @cha-raena @faethefairy @seo-thicc-bin @lilacboba @fallinforgyu @jayegalaxy @violevantae @ivyvesisi @sunshine-skz @nicksszzz @candidupped @celestialsjy @enhydiaries @woniecf @ultenha @dreamyenskz @keixeds @j5aker @donghoonie-3 @jkmonica @neocityhoe @zhaixiaowen @seuomo @hwhjsthetic @jngsngie @jjhmk @duolingofanaccount @bunhoons @yunskies @aminatalks @nyfwyeonjun @goodforgyu @enhacolor @cyuuupid @luvyun @sunghoonight-x @bambisgirl @taekbokki @3ggieyolk

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Tempted, You Know | kth

Taehyung really is the perfect best friend. Especially when he lets you drag him to a Harry Styles concert last minute. But as the night goes on, temptation sets in and the line between friends and more starts to get a little blurred…

👠 Pairing: bestfriend!taehyung x reader

👠 Word Count: 5.2k

👠 Rating: 18+

👠 Genre: Concert au, best friends to lovers, fluff, smut

👠 Warnings: Explicit language, Y/N gets a little jealous/possessive, consumption of alcohol (neither of them are drunk though just buzzed pls drink responsibly!) Falling puts Y/N through it and Tae is super sweet and comforts her, some sexy dancing times in public, teasing, dirty talk, grinding, hair pulling, marking, biting, scratching, very minor and brief choking, making out, explicit sexual content, mention of oral (m receiving), groping, exhibitionism and mention of having an exhibitionist kink (they’re fooling around in Tae’s car in the parking lot after the concert), these two challenge and egg each other on a lot (they love to talk shit lmao), fingering, cum eating, mention of getting turned on by Harry Styles songs, it ends soft uwu

A/N: This is what happens when footage of Tae vibing to Woman at Harry’s concert lives rent free in your head 🙂 Also another example of me yet again having too many ideas and just deciding to follow the chaos of my brain oops. I didn’t see Harry on tour this year so my point of reference is exclusively from the Twitter vids and looking up his setlist and also the concert I went to in 2017 😂 Hope you enjoy this Tae fic that my brain demanded be written and thank you so much for always being so lovely and supporting me 🥰💜 Special shout-out to my Nanowrimo besties for helping me completely change my relationship with writing over the last few weeks and for just being my constant cheerleaders 😭😭💕

Masterlist

Taglist: @taegularities @lavienjin @illneverrecover @thatlongspringnight

“Hello?”

“Tae! My love, my bestie, my soulmate, my favorite person in the universe.”

“Oh no,” Taehyung groaned from the other end of the phone, “what did you do?”

“Nothing! Nothing, I swear. It’s more like I have a favor to ask. Just a little one.” you went on, playing cute as best as you could manage without having him in front of you.

“Oh, that’s it? You had me worried there for a second, not gonna lie. Well, what can I do for you, Y/N? My love, my bestie, my soulmate, my favorite person in the universe.” Taehyung playfully echoed your words back to you, causing you to giggle.

“Soooo, turns out my sister can’t go to the concert with me tonight. Would you pleeeeeeeeease be my angel and go with me? I’ll buy you a drink at the show and love you foreverrrr.”

You knew you were being ridiculous and laying it on thick, but you didn’t care if it got Taehyung to go to the concert with you.

“You know, desperation is not a cute look on you.” your best friend teased, and you pouted even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tae, please. I can’t go see Harry alone. I need emotional support for when he sings Falling, and who’s more emotionally supportive than my best friend.”

You heard a sigh from the other end, “Alright, I’ll go. I don’t think you’ll have nearly as much fun with me there though, I barely know his music. I’ll be there to pick you up in like two hours okay?”

“Thank you thank you thank you! And who knows, Tae, maybe you’ll end up surprising yourself and enjoy the concert after all.”

Taehyung chuckled, and you smiled at the sound.

“Yeah, who knows.”

Keep reading

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Cherry Topper [KSJ]

Cherry Topper [Seokjin x Reader] ⟶ Credit: @kimtaehyunq​ ⟶ Genre: Smut | 21+ | Friends to Lovers | One Shot ⟶ Warnings: TA!seokjin, a handful of bickering, pining, valentine’s day themed, dom!seokjin, oral (m&f), food-play, unprotected sex, spanking, candy themes, etc,  ⟶ WC: 17.6k ⟶ Summary: Seokjin is a chaotically fun-loving guy who works long and hard hours at his successful, family owned candy store named Kim’s Sweet’s Shop, located on the corner of Cherry Lane. Being consistently busy with the labor of his work schedule and attending college to finish off his masters program, he has a very little social life and definitely does not have time for dating on this romantic, hectic holiday. But from right under his nose, one of his many admirers just so happens to be the sugar-coated treat that he’s been missing out on. ⟶ Banner Credit: @dee-ehn​ - my friend, thank you so much for creating this beautiful banner for me. you are the best editor and ily! ⟶ Beta: Thank you so very much @shadowsremedy​ for helping me through this fic! I really needed your input on a lot of things. Also thank you @ppersonna​ for taking the time to read through this before posting as well! You two both helped me so much! I can’t even describe how much you two mean to me! ⟶ Teaser: “Seokjin responds with a coy smile, flashing his near perfect set of beautiful teeth while his eyes are trained on his book. There’s a small tint of red touching the tip of his ears but you ignore it only because he regains your attention with the click of his pen.” ⟶ Author’s note: This fic is written for Be My Bangtanvine! collab - hosted by yours truly. Please show love! 

Keep reading

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creep

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever - you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu's perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

tw/cw. dark content warning, serial killer Mingyu, mention of suicide, touch starved mingyu, switch mingyu, pussy eating, pussy worship, blow job, hand job, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, big dick mingyu, pussy stretching, extreme voyeurism, mentions of non-consensual voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, manhandling, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess. (his) good boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 9.1k

🍭 aus. Halloween, ghost!mingyu, serial killer!mingyu, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. I really can't explain this one other than saying I tried to make Mingyu redeemable by saying he only killed bad men 👀

Out of all the guy friends you have over, Jeonghan is Mingyu’s favorite. He’s always up to no good, talking shit that Mingyu can listen to for hours, and tonight, he’s brought a Ouija Board, which has spiked Mingyu’s curiosity. 

“Come on, it will be fun,” Jeonghan insists. “I’ve been wanting to do a seance in your apartment since you moved in three months ago.”

You’re not as impressed as Mingyu is about the idea, and neither are your other friends.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” Seungkwan says for the fifth time since the rag-tag group of friends entered your home. “We said we’d come back here between Halloween parties and drink, we never said anything about contacting the dude that killed himself here.”

Mingyu remembers the day you visited the apartment for the first time, the way the realtor had downplayed what happened here. Times are tough, and the price reduction had enticed you, despite Mingyu’s tragic history. 

“Come on, don’t you guys wanna ask why he did it?” Jeonghan presses.

“He did it because he was a top suspect in a string of murder cases,” Seungkwan fires back. “Case closed.”

Jeonghan scoffs loudly. “But what if he didn’t do it? What if the real serial killer came here, killed him, and made it look like a suicide-”

“Hannie,” you interrupt with a sigh, “what’s with you and your infatuation with murderers?”

“Me?!” Jeonghan’s eyes widen. “Who’s the one who watches all my slasher films with me? Don’t pretend you're innocent here, we all know you have a thing for bad boys.”

Mingyu’s noticed your love for dangerous men, you’ve had your share of bad dudes over to this very apartment much to his annoyance. On the flip side, Mingyu does enjoy a good horror movie night, and you provide more than enough of those, especially this past month.

“We’re doing this,” Jeonghan insists, pulling the board out and setting it on the coffee table. “It’s Halloween. If there’s ever a night for this ghost to talk with us, it’s now.”

Seungkwan only groans, taking another shot while Seokmin and Soonyoung exchange worried glances.

“You don’t think the ghost is going to actually like… talk with us, do you?” the man in the tiger onesie asks, playing with his tail nervously. 

“Well, the veil is thinnest on Halloween… I guess there’s only one way to find out,” Jeonghan grins devilishly. 

Five minutes later, candles are set up and Seokmin is sheepishly turning off the lights before joining everyone by the board. 

Mingyu holds back, watching with interest.

“How do we start?” you ask.

“Imma rizz this ghost,” Jeonghan explains, looking around the room. “Is there a presence here with us?”

In the silence, Mingyu can hear an ambulance a few blocks away. He crosses his arms over his chest, watching.

“Don’t we have to touch the Ouija thing?” Seungkwan asks.

“Right.” Jeonghan reaches out only to have his hand slapped away by his friend.

“Not you,” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. “You’ll rig it.”

Jeonghan sighs. “Fine, I’ll ask the questions, you all touch the planchette.”

It’s almost laughable how reluctant Seokmin is to touch the board, but soon, there are four sets of hands on it while Jeonghan addresses the room again. 

“Come on ghost,” he pleads, “don’t make me look bad, come say hi. If there’s a spirit with us, please move the planchette and tell us.”

Mingyu figures now is as good a time as any to communicate, God knows he’s waited years. With a sigh, Mingyu approaches the board. He crouches down next to you, reaching out. His fingers slip right through the planchette, but when he touches Seokmin, the man shivers.

“You okay?” you ask, looking at your friend.

“It just got really cold,” Seokmin breathes, already turning pale.

Mingyu tries again, this time aiming for Seokmin’s hands. The ghost focuses hard, willing the planchette to move, willing Seokmin’s hands to become his own. 

The small tool begins to shift on the board. 

“Soonyoung, cut it out,” Seungkwan snaps.

“It’s not me!” the tiger insists.

Little by little, the planchette shifts to Yes, and Mingyu lets out a deep breath at the effort it had taken.

“So there is a spirit here with us?” Jeonghan clarifies.

Again, Mingyu moves the planchette, slightly off of Yes then back again, an affirmative.

“I knew it!” Jeonghan practically screams. “Are you the guy who died here?”

Another Yes, and Mingyu’s getting annoyed with the questions already.

“What’s your name?” you ask.

Mingyu’s a little surprised that you’re beginning a line of inquiry, but he’s pleased too. Using Seokmin’s hands, he begins to slowly reveal his name. With each letter, your group reads it out loud.

“M… I… N… G… Y… U… Mingyu?” 

God, Mingyu likes the sound of his name on your lips.

A shift to Yes has the whole room going quiet and Mingyu waits for the next question.

“Okay guys, seriously, who’s doing this?” Seungkwan asks, ever the non-believer. 

“It’s not me!” Seokmin insists, followed by Soonyoung, who even crosses his heart to prove his own innocence.

“Did you really kill those guys?” Jeonghan questions, drawing all eyes.

“You can’t just ask that!” You bat at your friend’s arm.

Mingyu considers his next action, but with a sigh, he reaches for Seokmin’s hands again, using him to push the planchette to Yes. In Mingyu’s eyes, all the men he’d killed deserved it. They’d been predators, and it takes one to know one. Mingyu had simply been the better predator.

“How many people did you kill?”

“Jeonghan,” you say again, harder this time.

“We’re fact-checking!” Jeonghan insists. “If he gives us the wrong number, then someone here is lying.”

Mingyu doesn’t like to be tested like this, but at the same time, he admires the man’s shiftyness. The ghost reaches through Seokmin, pushing the planchette to 5.

Seokmin lets out a gasp, tearing his hands away from the board and leaping to his feet. “Guys, I don’t feel good about this.”

“But it’s just started to get juicy!” Jeonghan tuts. 

“We’re not going to force Seokmin to do this if he doesn’t want to,” you sigh, also removing your hands. “I think this is enough for tonight.”

Jeonghan’s not so easily convinced. “But we just made contact!” 

“It’s almost midnight, I thought you wanted to be at the bar for eleven fifty so your bouncer friend would let you in,” you point out.

“Let me in…” Jeonghan raises a brow. “Aren’t you coming?”

“Honestly?” you sigh. “I’m getting a bit tired.”

“But it’s Halloween!”

“And we’ve already been to one party and just used a Ouija board,” you laugh. “I think I’ve had enough fun.”

“You’re boring!” Jeonghan groans. 

“And you’re crazy!” you retort, heading to turn on the lights. “Say goodbye to your ghost friend, take another shot, and get out of here so I can get some sleep.”

Mingyu likes it when you take charge like this. He stands from the table, coming to join you as you head to the kitchen to get your friends their last shots. He’s always liked sticking close to you, your second ghostly shadow. 

The last tenant had been a guy, and the view had never been very great, but with you around? Mingyu is constantly entertained, in the most perverted ways possible. He’s really enjoying the skimpy outfit you’re wearing, and he can’t wait to watch you take it off. Maybe you’ll have a shower once your friends are gone- you’ll make his night if you do.

“Goodbye,” Seungkwan says loudly, pushing the planchette to the word scrawled in big writing. Mingyu’s not so easily dismissed, but Seokmin lets out a breath of relief as the board is closed and packed up.

You all take one last shot, and Mingyu can practically taste the tequila on his tongue. It’s been forever since he had anything to drink, or eat, or fuck for that matter. 

He misses it every day. 

The ghost hangs back as you hug your friends goodbye, with Jeonghan trying for five minutes to convince you to join the last bar outing. You stay firm, and Mingyu grins to himself when you finally close the door, shutting you in together.

You busy yourself with cleaning up the kitchen, putting the shot glasses and bottles away, then, to Mingyu’s pleasure, you head toward the bathroom. He follows closely, slipping in behind you before you can close the door. As a ghost, Mingyu can walk through walls, but it’s an unpleasant experience, one he avoids when he can.

He watches you turn on the shower, facing the mirror to remove your false eyelashes. You’re so pretty, and when you begin to take off your outfit, Mingyu practically drools. He can stare at your naked body for hours and not get bored, in fact, he has. 

You step into the shower, closing the curtain. Your silhouette is still as beautiful as ever, and Mingyu can feel his cock getting hard as he watches you. Voyeurism is something he’s always enjoyed, even as a human, and now that he’s a ghost, it’s something that makes Mingyu’s undead life go round. 

He palms himself through his jeans, looking for relief but also not wanting to take things too far. Knowing you, he’ll probably get a free show if he waits long enough. Your sex drive rivals even his own, and Mingyu’s nothing if not a good boy who knows how to be patient. 

***

You get out of the shower feeling refreshed. Your blood is still buzzing slightly from the drinks you’ve had, but you feel clear-headed as you wipe the mirror, looking at yourself while you wrap a towel around your naked body.

Your phone dings and you look down at it, reading Jeonghan’s contact name. It’s a text to tell you that your friends have gotten to the bar, and another request for you to join. You can only laugh, setting your phone down just as the clock hits midnight.

There’s movement in the corner of your eye and you turn your head, locking eyes with a tall, dark-haired man standing by the door of your bathroom.

Your heart lurches in your chest, and you immediately grab the closest thing, a hairbrush, hurling it at the man. He doesn’t even try to dodge it, and it hits him square in the chest. His gaze dips down, and he looks completely shocked that you’ve just thrown something at him.

“Get out of my house!” you scream, reaching for the next item-

“Not your expensive moisturizer!” the man yells, holding up both hands and backing up. “How are you going to explain breaking that to Jeonghan?!”

You freeze a little at his words, thoroughly confused. “How- how do you know-” You look down at the bottle of moisturizer that Jeonghan had bought for you last month. “Did Jeonghan put you up to this?!”

“Put the bottle down,” the man says, still holding his hands defensively. 

“You’re some creep in my bathroom!” you retort. “You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You grab your phone next. “I’m calling 911.”

“God, please don’t,” he sighs.

“Start talking!” you insist.

“I’m not Jeonghan’s friend-”

“Then who the fuck are you, and how did you get into my apartment?!” You lift the moisturizer again, ready to throw it at his face.

“Mingyu!” he belts. “I’m Mingyu!”

“Jeonghan definitely put you up to this,” you declare, feeling something like relief. This is just some prank-

“I’m serious,” the handsome man tells you. “I’m Mingyu-”

“You expect me to believe that you’re the ghost of that serial killer who died here years ago?” you scoff.

“Yeah, it was me with the Ouija,” he tries to explain.

“Prove it,” you insist, still not believing him. 

“You want me to tell you something only a ghost would know?” he laughs. “How about this, I know you hide your sex toys in a box under your bed. I know the last few guys you’ve had over couldn’t make you cum so you’d finish yourself off with your vibrator once they left. I know you still say your first boyfriend’s name whenever you cum, for some stupid reason-”

Your heart is thundering in your chest. There’s no way he can know all of that- no one knows all of that-

Why is everything he’s saying sex related?

An unfamiliar feeling washes over your form. It’s something like fear, but there’s an underlying emotion there too- a tingle between your legs. Is this guy really a ghost? Is he your ghost? Has he been watching you since you moved in?!

“Believe me now?” Mingyu asks. He must have seen the way you’ve faltered, moisturizer bottle lowering to your side.

“How-” You swallow thickly. “How are you here?”

“That’s actually a good question,” Mingyu admits, looking down at his form. “This doesn’t usually happen.” 

“The veil is thinnest on Halloween,” you breathe, remembering what Jeonghan had said earlier. “It’s midnight…”

“Sounds right to me.” The ghost nods. 

“How… how long are you going to be visible for?” you ask, eyes dragging across his large body.

“I don’t know… but, when you threw that brush at me, it hit me.” Mingyu steps toward you and you move back, hitting the wall. “Don’t be scared, I just wanna touch you-”

“As if that makes me feel any better!” You’re frozen as his hand reaches out, fingers coming to gently brush your collarbone. You shiver at the cold contact.

“You.. you felt that!” Mingyu’s eyes widen with shock.

“Are you going to kill me?” you ask.

“What?!” He laughs, moving even closer.

“You’re a serial killer, aren’t you?” This is just your luck.

“I only killed men, guys who were predators.”

“Like you.”

“Like me,” he admits. “But… my brutality never came out toward women.”

The ghost has no right being this beautiful, and he’s saying the right things. You can’t believe you’re actually starting to relax a little. You’ve definitely seen too many horror films-

“You… you’ve been watching me,” you point out.

Your words seem to make him almost bashful, his gaze dipping to the floor. You see his skin flush a pinkish colour and it’s almost endearing. “Uh… yeah.”

“And you were in here while I was having a shower too… You are a bit of a creep, aren’t you?”

“Every other tenant here has been a guy!” Mingyu exclaims. “You’re the first one who’s actually caught my attention.”

“I feel like you’re just horny after years of being alone.”

“You would be too,” he insists. “If the roles were reversed - if you were a ghost bound to this apartment forever -  you’re saying you wouldn’t watch me get naked every day?” 

He’s definitely got a point. As your eyes skim Mingyu’s perfect form again, that tingle returns between your legs. There’s no reason for him to be as sexy as he is- murders aren’t the only shocking thing this man has under his belt and you can see that now. 

“Can I…” he swallows thickly. “Can I kiss you?”

You can’t believe you’re actually considering this.

“Come on, please?” Mingyu asks. “I haven’t touched someone in so long, haven’t been touched-” 

A dead serial killer who sort of respects your autonomy and is begging for you? 

“We don’t know how long this is going to last,” he continues. “I need to feel something, need to feel you-” 

“Fucking a ghost wasn’t on my Halloween bingo sheet,” you joke.

“It will be fun,” Mingyu insists. “I know what you like, I know your kinks, I know you, better than all those other guys you’ve fucked so far. Come on, princess, let me make you feel good.” 

It’s kind of creepy that the ghost even knows your preferred pet name, but it sounds so pretty coming from him. 

You weigh the pros and cons. 

Pros: He’s one of the sexiest men you’ve ever seen. He actually wants to make you cum. He already knows your kinks. He might be a touch obsessed with you, which would do wonders for your ego.

Cons: He’s literally a dead serial killer creep who’s been watching you jack off and get fucked for a few months. He could also disappear at any second.

Well, you can’t pass this up, especially since you have no idea how long this will last. And when he’s gone, he’ll stay gone. There are technically no strings, none that you can see at least.

And to top it all off, you’re extremely horny. You’d stayed back from going to the bar with your friends specifically to fuck yourself stupid tonight, and now, you have a ghost willing to get the job done for you.

“Okay, big guy,” you sigh. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Mingyu doesn’t waste a second. He grabs your face, cupping his large hand around the back of your skull to pull your lips to his own. 

You’re a little shocked, but you melt into his embrace quickly, pressing your hands to his beefy chest while his tongue licks at your lip, begging for entry. You open your mouth to him, and he kisses you deeper, letting out a low groan as he shifts you in his embrace, grabbing at your hip to pull you closer.

It’s been years since he’s touched anyone, but he kisses with the best of them. 

It’s almost too easy to get lost in Mingyu, your mind going pleasantly blank as you make out with the ghost. 

You’re eating up the sounds he’s making too. His mouth is eager against your own, all tongue and plump lips. It’s clear that your ghost has been very touch-starved. His hand gropes at your waist, toying with the towel still wrapped around your body. 

You can’t help yourself, you reach a hand between your bodies, cupping his cock through his jeans.

Mingyu pants against your lips, breaking the kiss to look down at where you’re touching him. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” he groans, pressing his hips forward for more friction.

He’s literally adorable, and so receptive. 

“You’ll take care of me first though, right?” you toy, squeezing your hand tighter around the large bulge in his pants.

“Yeah,” he swallows thickly, nodding. “Been wanting to taste your pussy for fucking months.”

Your core throbs at his words- he’s got a big dick and he likes oral? Your night just keeps getting better.

“Then you should taste me,” you tell him. “I’m even sweeter than I look.”

Mingyu lets out a deep groan, and then he’s sinking to his knees on the bathroom floor. His mouth finds your calf, and his large hands grab at your leg, adjusting it onto his shoulder while his lips ascend to your thigh. 

You lean back against the wall, trying to catch your breath while the large man gets closer and closer to where you need him most.

He reaches up, grabbing at your towel and tugging. In one motion, you’re naked for him, and the cool air of the bathroom has your skin tingling, nipples pebbling with interest.

Mingyu spreads your legs wider, and you can feel his breath on your pussy. You reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. He looks up at you, eyes dark with lust, and then he’s diving in. He’s all tongue, the wet muscle pushing into your hole to taste you while he releases an almost animalistic groan of appreciation.

It’s clear this man is a pussy lover, and you can’t believe he’s gone so long without having his mouth on one. You’re more than happy to make up for the lost time, enjoying the feeling of him pressing his face closer to your wet core, tongue lapping at you while he begins to grind his nose against your clit.

He definitely knows how to eat, and you find yourself closing your eyes, enjoying the feeling building in the pit of your stomach. His hands are on your hips, but one trails up, grasping for your breast. The added stimulation of his thumb and pointer pinching your nipple has you crying out, hips rutting toward his face.

He just feels so good- and when his lips move to suction around your clit, your thigh quakes on his shoulder. “Fuck-” you moan loudly, shocked that it’s been this easy for him to get you to the cusp of an orgasm. 

Most men don’t know how to handle you, but it’s clear that he does. 

You can feel yourself practically dripping, and you’re not sure if it’s pussy juice or the ghost’s drool, but you don’t really care. It’s sinful and sexy and dirty- exactly what Halloween should be. 

Mingyu lets go of your breast, adjusting his hand- two fingers slide into your core while his mouth continues on your clit, and you swear this purgatory-bound sinner has just taken you to heaven. 

You’re a mewling mess now, moans and gasps leaving you uncensored while his thick fingers stretch out your core, pushing in and out while his tongue flicks at your most sensitive spot.

“I’m gonna cum,” you tell him, eyes clenched shut as the knot in your stomach is pulled tighter and tighter-

The man between your legs groans in response, driving his fingers into you faster and harder, his mouth making lewd sucking sounds around your clit. 

It’s everything you need to reach your high and you gasp loudly, tangling your fingers in his hair while your orgasm washes over you. Your hips buck against his face, only for his free hand to pin you to the wall, his motions never ceasing while you cry out, your core throbbing around his fingers.

No one has ever eaten you out this good. Your mind is practically blank, body completely overwhelmed with the pleasure surging through you. 

It’s almost too much for you to handle, and you find yourself tugging at Mingyu’s hair, trying to pull him away-

He won’t budge, growling heavily against your core. The vibration makes your legs twitch, and you’re not sure you’ll even be able to stand if he keeps this up-

Finally, Mingyu pulls away. He’s panting hard. His fingers slip out of your pussy only for him to place them in his mouth, sucking them clean while he groans lewdly. “Fuck,” he mumbles, looking up at you with stars in his eyes. “That was so good.”

You can’t even speak yet, too breathless from the mind-numbing orgasm to even think. 

Mingyu stands up, and you have to tilt your head to retain eye contact. God, why’s he so big and fuckable?

“Look at you, princess. You usually have good comebacks.” He leans forward, breath hot against your face. “Ghost got your tongue?”

You can’t help but laugh slightly, and Mingyu grins down at you. Then he’s cupping your cheek again, bringing his lips to yours. You can taste yourself as he kisses you deeply, but you don’t even care. You wrap your arms around his broad shoulders, pressing your boobs against his chest.

You need to be closer to him. Need to feel him, fully.

Mingyu reaches down, grabbing your ass and lifting you off the ground. Your legs wrap around his hips and the ghost carries you through the apartment, gently setting you onto your bed.

He towers over your now and your pussy throbs at the idea of how well he’s about to wreck you.

“You still want me, right?” he asks. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”

You nod, licking your lips. “I know you will.”

“I’m a good boy,” Mingyu says quietly, eyes dipping down to your core.

“Then be a good boy and take off your shirt, I want to see you.”

He’s quick to comply, tearing off the black fabric to reveal his muscular chest. Your pussy throbs at the sight alone. His arms are huge, biceps bulging deliciously, and his pecs look downright biteable. Then there are his abs-

You sit up, trying to contain yourself. “Pants next.”

“Fuck, princess,” Mingyu groans, already working on his belt. “Has anyone ever told you how fucking perfect you are?”

“You’d know if they had, wouldn’t you, Ghost?” 

“These fucking dudes you have over,” Mingyu clicks his tongue, “none of them have known how to treat you right.”

“But you do?”

“Of course!” he scoffs, pushing his pants and underwear down, revealing the biggest cock you’ve ever seen. “Name one other guy who’s eaten your pussy like I have.”

He knows you too well.

“I should return the favour,” you suggest. 

“Fuck, I’d die all over again if you did.”

You get onto your knees, shuffling closer. You kiss him first, cupping his cheek with one hand while the other moves down to his cock, stroking him gently while he whines against your lips. He ruts his hips, forcing more friction while you grin into the kiss. 

“Needy Ghost,” you laugh.

“Need you so fucking bad,” he agrees. 

“Then I shouldn’t keep you waiting, should I?” 

“Please, don’t.”

You begin to kiss down his neck, taking your time as you trail your mouth across his body. You appreciate every centimeter, all the way down his pretty chest and abs. You trace your tongue along his hip bone and the ghost shivers, letting out a shuddery breath. “Holy shit.” 

“You’ll be nice and praise me while I have my mouth full, won’t you, handsome?” You sneak a glance up at him as you take him in your hand, adjusting his cock. 

“Yeah-” He swallows thickly. “I know how much my princess loves being told she’s a good girl.”

“Am I your good girl?” 

“So fucking good,” he nods eagerly. “So fucking good for me I can’t even believe it.”

You smile to yourself, pressing a chaste kiss to the head of his leaking cock that has the Ghost practically whimpering. 

“Fuck, can I- can I grab your hair?”

“Uh huh,” you lick a stripe along the head of his cock, circling it with your tongue while the gorgeous man shivers at the contact. 

“Please don’t tease me,” he begs, grabbing a fistful of your hair. “I don’t- don’t know how much time I have with you, and I’ll die if we spend the whole time teasing and I don’t even get to feel your perfect fucking pussy-”

You wrap your mouth around his cock, agreeing with what he’s saying, and it earns an immediate moan of appreciation from the man towering over you.

“Fuck, princess, you feel so good- you feel so fucking good-”

You swirl your tongue around his length, running it along the crease between the head and shaft. Mingyu’s grip tightens in your hair as more breathy moans spill from his lips. 

He’s much too big to fit in your mouth, so you pump what you can’t reach, using your saliva as lube to make stroking easier while you suck on him. Your eyes are closed, mind focused on pleasuring him the way he’d just pleasured you in the bathroom.

It feels good to be giving something back to him, especially as praises and words of encouragement fill the room. “Just like that, just like that, holy shit-”

You take him as deep as you can go, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat, which constricts around him.

“Oh my god-” he practically whimpers, fingers flexing in your hair. “Please let me fuck your face, please, I want it so bad-”

You make a sound of affirmation and that’s all it takes for Mingyu to release a low groan, pushing his hips forward. He hits the back of your throat again and you do your best to clear your mind, focusing on anything but the gagging sensation as he begins to use your mouth for his own pleasure.

“Holy shit, good girl, good fucking girl-” he moans, quickening his pace. His grip on your head keeps you where he wants you, and it’s clear he’s being cognizant of not making you gag too hard. He seems to know your boundary, know just what to do without making it too much.

“Fuck, it’s too good- you’re too fucking good at this, princess,” Mingyu pants. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum but I promise I’ll still fuck you, I promise my recharge time is quick-”

You suction your cheeks harder around him and Mingyu practically cries out, grip tightening in your hair so hard it almost hurts. He’s a garbled mess of swear words now, and a few thrusts later he’s cumming down your throat, releasing the prettiest moan you’ve ever heard while his hips shudder with effort.

“Holy shit, good girl, good girl-” he groans, motions slowing as he cums rope after rope- “Taking me so fucking well, oh my god-” 

Mingyu pulls out of your mouth, breathing hard. He looks down at you while you also take a few deep breaths. 

It’s the oddest thing. His cum hadn’t tasted like anything. There was no salt or musk- it was just… different. You suppose he’s a ghost, so that could account for the lack of flavour, and you almost prefer it that way. 

“That was so good,” Mingyu tells you. “You’re good, right?” 

You nod, pulling away from him to fall back against the bed again. “I’m perfect.”

“Yeah, you are,” the ghost laughs. 

“So are you going to make me cum again, or…?” you cock your head to the side, assessing him.

He’s still trying to catch his breath, cheeks all flushed, hair a tangle of dark curls. He looks beautiful.

“Fuck, yeah,” Mingyu grins, and the smile lights up his whole face. “I know you probably want two or three more, you’re insatiable like that, aren’t you, princess?”

“I guess it takes one to know one,” you laugh. “I bet you usually cum two or more times watching me, don’t you, Ghost boy?”

“Guilty.” He runs his fingers through his wild hair. “But my hand is nothing compared to you.”

“Funny, my hand is nothing compared to you either.”

“Match made in heaven,” Mingyu muses, getting onto the bed to join you while you wrap your arms around his shoulders, tugging him in for another breathtaking kiss.

He slots so well between your legs, one hand pressed to the bed while the other comes up to massage your breast. You moan against his lips, arching your back, wanting more. His thumb brushes over your nipple and then he’s pinching it, making you cry out.

“You like a little pain, don’t you, princess?” he grins, looking down at you.

“A little,” you admit.

“You know…” his hand moves up from your breast, teasing over your collarbone, “sometimes, when you’re trying to make yourself cum, and you choke yourself- it’s one of the sexiest things I’ve ever fucking seen.”

“Oh yeah?” You grab his hand, guiding it to your throat. 

In the back of your mind, you remember that this hot ghost is also a killer- but his hands are shockingly soft and gentle as he squeezes your neck. 

“Fuck, you look gorgeous,” he groans.

“Tighter,” you tell him, stroking his forearm while the muscles move beneath the skin, his hand pressing harder onto your airway.

You let out a small whimper, closing your eyes and enjoying the lightheaded feeling. 

“Ready for my fingers again?” he asks.

“Want your cock.”

“Fingers first,” he insists, letting go of your throat so he can trail his hand down your body until he’s cupping your pussy. You buck against his hand and he grins. “So eager.”

“Be a good boy and make princess cum again,” you tell him.

It’s an interesting kink for him to have - the whole good boy angle -  you would have thought a man like him would be a full dom, but you kind of enjoy this switchy side. It allows you to tell him what to do, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy holding a lot of the power in this interaction.

Two of his fingers slip into your core and you both groan at the feeling. “Still so fucking wet,” the ghost muses. “Did sucking me off turn you on that much?”

“I like the sounds you make,” you admit, rocking your hips against his hand while he palms your clit.

“Yeah?” His grin widens. 

“You’re my perfect puppy,” you sigh happily as he finger fucks you even harder. 

Mingyu reacts to the new petname with a low groan and you thread your fingers through his hair, tugging his lips to your own. You love the way his tongue invades your mouth, teasing and tasting but not dominating. 

His fingers continue to stretch you out, his palm a constant pressure on your clit. You can’t fucking wait to take his cock, and it’s just one orgasm away. 

You break the kiss to move your mouth to his neck, loving the whimpery sounds of appreciation that leave him as you begin sucking on his skin. There’s no reason not to leave marks, so you go as hard as you want, teasing your teeth over his jugular while it bounces with effort.

“Fuck, fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, clearly enjoying the attention being paid to his pretty throat.

You can feel your core beginning to throb, your pussy tightening as another orgasm approaches, doing its best to keep Mingyu’s fingers buried knuckle deep even as he drives them into you rougher and rougher.

“Are you gonna cum again?” Mingyu asks, breathless. “Please tell me you’re gonna cum again.”

You can feel his cock, hard and pressed to your leg, leaking from how turned on he is while he finger fucks you and you kiss his throat. He’s so easy to make come undone. It boosts your ego like nothing else, and your pussy pulses with desire.

“I’m close,” you tell him, licking at his throat and making your way to his ear. “Be a good boy and make me cum.”

Mingyu groans loudly, and then he’s suddenly pulling away from you, moving down the bed to get between your legs again. His fingers don’t stop inside of you, but his free hand pushes your thigh up, giving him more space as he brings his lips to your clit.

“Holy shit-” you groan, threading your fingers through his hair and letting your head loll back against the pillows. You hadn’t thought you’d get his mouth on you like this again- but you suppose you had commanded him to make you cum, and this position is a tried and true winner. 

You can’t even tell him you’re about to cum, he simply tears it out of you. Your back arches off the bed, a sinful whine escaping your lips while your thighs quiver, pussy clamping down on his fingers, your clit throbbing desperately. Mingyu lets out a growl, slurping hard at the sensitive bud, and it brings tears to your eyes at how good it feels.

You feel like you’re the ghost now, your soul practically leaving your body while Mingyu works you through another one of the most intense orgasms of your entire life.

When he finally pulls away from your core, you can’t even open your eyes. You can only lay there, trying to catch your breath while the bed dips under his weight. You feel his hands digging into the pillows on either side of your head, and then something brushes by your nose.

You open your eyes to find Mingyu staring down at you, gently rubbing the tip of his nose against your own. “You good, princess?”

“I’m perfect,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around his hips to pull him closer.

You catch his cock between your bodies and a moan leaves you at how big he feels. 

“Ready for more?” he asks.

You can only nod, grabbing at his shoulders to drag him into a kiss. It’s almost relaxing to take a minute to just kiss him, mind blank, body still tingling in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

Then Mingyu begins to rut his hips, dragging his cock through your pussy lips and making you groan when he bumps your clit.

You’re the one who reaches between your bodies, grabbing his dick to line it up with your core.

Mingyu watches you carefully and you give him a small nod. “Do it,” you tell him. “Fuck me stupid.”

He only laughs, pressing his lips to yours as he pushes into you. Your pussy swallows him inch by inch, with you clawing at his shoulders when he’s finally all the way in. 

You’ve never felt anything like Mingyu- he stretches you out in a way that most men can only dream of. You feel small, fragile, needy- almost like a virgin again, and the way he’s kissing you eagerly definitely brings back memories of first times. 

He begins to thrust gently, allowing your body time to adjust to his massive size. You’re a little shocked at how easy the glide of it is, but you suppose you’re wetter than you’ve ever been after having cum so hard twice. It feels absolutely all-consuming. His cock is practically all you can think about as you tangle your fingers in his hair and kiss him deeper.

Mingyu is groaning into your mouth, and the sounds fuel your entire body with even more lust. You trail one hand down his back, enjoying the way it makes him shiver. 

“Do I feel good, Gyu?” you ask.

“You feel perfect,” he tells you, burying his face against your throat. His mouth is hot as he leaves wet kisses there, his hips moving even faster. “So fucking good. Better than I ever imagined.”

“You’ve imagined me a lot, haven’t you, big guy?”

“So many times-” he admits. “Never thought… never thought I’d actually get to fuck you like this.”

“Just wait till you make me cum while buried inside of me,” you grin, tilting your head so he can press fevered kisses to your jaw while groaning loudly. 

“Fuck-” One of his hands moves to your hip, keeping you pinned. He’s fucking you so hard now that the bed is rocking, but you can’t bring yourself to care about neighbors. “Wait, flip around for me, I know you go wild for doggy.”

God, it’s so easy with him. 

He has you on your knees in seconds, large hands cupping your hips to adjust your ass higher as he slips back inside of you. This new position makes him feel even bigger, if that’s possible, and it makes your toes curl. 

With each hard snap of his hips, your ass slaps back against his front. The sound of skin on skin mixed with his moans is doing something crazy to you- you’re completely consumed by him. There’s not a thought in your head other than “Yes, yes, yes! Fuck, harder Gyu, harder!”

He’s more than willing to comply, railing you like you’ve never been railed before.

You can feel fluids beginning to drip down your legs, that’s how wet you are. Stroke game has never been this easy.

Then he reaches around your front, leaning over your back so he can access your clit. You cry out from the stimulation, core clenching deliciously around the large intrusion. “Holy shit-” you whimper.

“Can you cum for me again, princess?” Mingyu asks, breath hot against your shoulders. 

“Are you close?” you gasp, feeling another orgasm building achingly fast.

“Yeah, but I want at least one more out of you,” the ghost says. “It’s Halloween, you deserve it.”

“I deserve it?” you nearly laugh, but the giggle is quick to turn into a moan as he applies more pressure to your clit.

“Yeah, of course you deserve it. You’re being so good for me, so fucking good-”

The praise goes straight to your pussy and you tangle your hands in the sheets. “Gyu-”

“That’s it, please, princess, wanna feel you cum.” He digs his fingers into your hip, drawing consistent circles on your clit. He knows exactly what to do to make you feel good, and you wonder how many times he’s watched you make yourself cum like this.

“That’s it,” Mingyu groans. “Fuck you feel amazing. Come on, cum for me. Come on, pretty girl.”

Your body twitches and you let out a gasp, tensing before your release hits you straight on. Your eyes clench shut as your pussy clamps down on his cock, a strangled moan escaping you as pleasure surges through you. Your mind practically short circuits, your brain blank except for the pure ecstasy he’s providing. 

Mingyu lets out a loud groan, panting harder as he fucks you through your high. He pulls his hand away from your clit in favour of grabbing your hips again, pushing his entire cock into your aching hole over and over again.

“Just like that, just like that-” he tells you. “Fuck, you’re literally dripping, holy shit-”

You don’t even care that your bed sheets are going to be ruined after this- all you care about is the man behind you fucking you like it’s his last night on earth. To be fair, it just might be.

“Good princess,” Mingyu breathes. “So good for me.”

“Gyu-” you whimper trying to push yourself up onto your hands. You rut your hips back to meet his thrusts and he lets out another guttural moan of appreciation. “I wanna ride you till you cum.”

You think he deserves it. 

In fact, you know he deserves it.

This man has made you cum three times already, and you’ll be damned if you don’t try to return the favor. 

“You wanna ride me?” Mingyu stops with his cock fully inside of you, and his hand smooths down your back. “Really?”

“Uh huh,” you nod, pushing back against him in an attempt to get him even deeper. “Bet you miss being ridden, don’t you, big guy?”

He lets out a groan, and then he’s removing his cock from your core, practically pouncing onto the bed next to you. He grabs your hips, helping you straddle him. While you reach between your bodies to grab his cock and line it up with your core, he slips a hand around the back of your skull, pulling your lips down to meet yours.

The ghost is grinning into the kiss and it’s almost laughable how excited he is. 

You sink down onto his length and you both release loud moans into each other’s mouths. 

It feels so good to be filled up like this. You begin by grinding against him, adjusting to his size. You can feel him so deep, all the way in the pit of your stomach.

He grabs at your thighs then your boobs, and you can tell he’s having difficulty deciding which parts of you he wants to worship. Then he takes a fistful of your ass, squeezing rough enough to have you whimpering while his tongue invades your mouth.

You begin to ride him, bracing your hands against his chest.

Mingyu is just so big- the sexiest man you’ve ever fucked and there’s no contest in that.

He’s so good at kissing too, moaning into it while you pick up the speed of your thrusts. 

He grabs your hips, helping you bounce up and down. Each movement fills you up deliciously, your drenched core swallowing him up like you were made for this.

You pull away from his lips, straightening while you ride him. Mingyu takes the opportunity to grab your breasts, kneading them in his hands while his thumbs tease your nipples. You cover his hand with one of your own, urging him to squeeze harder. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking pretty,” Mingyu groans, hips thrusting up to meet you.

His cock is hitting even deeper now, and you swear no one has ever been this deep inside of you before. There’s literally nothing in the world like Mingyu… or his cock. 

“Look at you taking all of me,” he continues, cheeks flushed pink, breath hot. “I always knew you’d be able to- always knew you’d be a fucking champ in bed.”

You want to tell him he’s one to talk, but it seems the ghost has got your tongue again. All you can do is moan lewdly, riding him harder and ignoring the burn of your thighs.

Mingyu sits up, leaning forward to take your breast into his mouth. His tongue flicks by your nipple and you cry out, tangling your fingers in his hair to hold him to your chest. He groans deeply as you pull on his hair, teeth grazing the sensitive bud caught between his lips.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, core clenching tight around his cock.

The ghost pants loudly, giving your breast one last kiss before he flops down onto his back again. “You close?” he asks, reaching out so his thumb can find your clit, rubbing it.

“Fuck, yeah- if you keep doing that, yeah, I’m close-” you nod, clawing at his chest.

“I need you to cum with me,” Mingyu tells you. “Want us to cum together.”

“Me too, me too-” you assure him, closing your eyes to focus on the feeling of his cock filling you up perfectly while his thumb works harder on your clit.

“Want you on top,” the ghost continues, “but I want to take over. Can you rub yourself for me?”

“Yeah.” You swallow thickly, leaning over him so you can press your lips to his own. Your hand sneaks between your legs, and you hover over him, thrusts coming to a stop while he gets a grip on your hips.

His tongue battles your own as he begins to piston up into you- God, it feels even better when he’s the one fucking you from below. All you have to do is hold yourself over him with one shaky arm while your fingers work on your clit, dragging you closer and closer to the edge again.

“Oh my god-” you mumble against his mouth, and it only makes him smile, rutting up into you even faster. 

“I can’t-” he breaks the kiss to burry his face against your throat, “I can’t hold off much longer, please tell me you’re gonna cum with me, please-”

“I will!” you whine. “I’m so close-”

His mouth is hot against your neck and he sucks on your sweet spot, making you cry out. He groans loudly at the way your core tightens around his massive cock. Then he’s pulling away from your throat, wrapping a hand around it instead.

“Look at me,” he instructs. “Want to watch you cum.”

You force your eyes open, gasping as he tightens his grip on your neck. You’re so fucking close you can almost taste it. 

His other arm adjusts, palm snaking up your back as he fucks up into you wildly.

“Can I give you a countdown?” he asks.

You nod enthusiastically. He’s choking you too hard to answer. Your blood is rushing to your head and your pussy, body practically on fire-

“Three-” he moans loudly, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Two-” a small grunt leaves his lips, fingers digging into your back. “One! Cum with me- please, fuck, cum with me!” 

You let out a gasp, all the tension in your body snapping like the cord in your stomach. Pleasure washes over you, and it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It’s better than the first three orgasms if that’s even possible, and if it weren’t for the tight grip on your neck cutting off most of your sounds, you’re sure you’d be screaming.

Mingyu’s deep groans are only making you more turned on as your core throbs around his cock. He’s still fucking you, but soon the pleasure seems to be even too much for him. He drags you fully against his chest, burying himself completely in your pussy while he fills you up with his cum. 

He releases your throat in favor of smashing his lips against your own, tongue running against your teeth while he groans loudly. You whimper into the kiss, pussy still pulsing around him.

This has to be one of the longest orgasms you’ve ever had- and with his massive cock still buried inside of you, your pussy gets practically no reprieve. All you can do is gasp and whimper against his lips while your body struggles to process the insane amount of pleasure that’s still coursing through you.

Mingyu lets out a laugh, resting down against the pillows and looking up at you. “Was that good?” he asks. 

You can only shake your head at him, letting out a small chuckle as the last of your orgasm wafts through you like a warm summer breeze. 

“Yeah,” his hand smooths up and down your back, “it was good for me too.”

“You literally just ruined me for anyone else.”

“That was the goal, princess.” He grins.

“You’re so bad.”

“Obviously you have a thing for bad boys.”

“And ghosts, apparently.” You’re still coming to terms with what you’ve just done. Part of you wonders if this is just some crazy dream.

“Just me though, right?” He kisses you gently and it leaves you wanting more.

“For now, but if I meet another ghost with a huge cock, maybe that will change,” you tease.

Mingyu sighs, shaking his head at you. “We should probably get you cleaned up, then… can we cuddle? I’m still not sure how long you’ll be able to see me, and… I think ending the night holding you would be nice.”

A ghost who loves eating pussy, made you cum four times, has a massive cock, and wants to spoil you with some aftercare-

You’re for sure ruined for any other guy you meet and you know it. 

It sucks to have to get off of Mingyu’s dick, and your legs hurt, but he helps you to the bathroom with a shit-eating grin. “Never seen you walk like this after being fucked,” he muses.

“No one’s fucked me like you just did and you know it,” you laugh. 

He gives you a bit of privacy while you pee and get all the cum off of you, but he joins you when you begin to brush your teeth. Mingyu stands behind you, hands finding your hips, eyes locked on yours through the mirror. 

“Tomorrow, when you get ready for bed, imagine me right here,” he tells you, leaning down to press a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“Yeah?” You press your ass back against him. “Is this usually where you stand while I brush my teeth?”

“Uh huh.” His hands move from your hips to grab onto your tits, squeezing them. “Gonna miss being able to touch you.”

You frown a little at his words, spitting into the sink before turning in his arms. “I’m gonna miss you too, Gyu.”

“Really?” He grins. “So no more fucking randoms?”

You laugh. “Do you expect me to wait a whole nother year just to get railed again?”

“I guess that does sound impossible,” Mingyu sighs. “Just know that any guy you do bring over… I’ll be watching.”

“And judging, I bet.” He’s so obsessed with you that it hurts. 

“Always.”

“What are you going to do?” you ask. “Waiting for a whole year before you can fuck me again?”

“You know what I’m going to do,” he grins. “Every time you touch yourself, I’ll be touching myself too.”

God, this is going to take masturbation to a whole new level.

“Do you…” you swallow. “If I got Jeonghan’s ouija board, do you think you could communicate with me through it? I mean… you’ve never thrown books around or done anything like this before so-”

“Maybe,” Mingyu cocks his head to the side. “I kind of had to use Seokmin’s hands as my own tonight, but, I could try it with just you. But you can’t expect to ask a question and have the wooden thing move to an answer on its own.” 

“Okay, noted.” You let out a sigh. “Now come to bed with me, puppy. I need a good cuddle.”

He lets you take his hand, guiding him back to your room where he joins you under your duvet. 

Mingyu is quick to adjust you as his little spoon, pulling you tight to his chest. One arm is secured under your head as a mock pillow, and the other hand cups your breast. His breath is hot against your neck.

“Would it be too soon to say I love you?” he asks suddenly.

You can only laugh. You’ve just met him tonight, but you suppose he’s been watching you for months at this point. You can only imagine how much he’s pined for you by this point. 

“You can say it, but I can’t return the sentiment, not now at least,” you admit.

“That’s okay, Ghost romances are usually one-sided anyways, or so I would imagine.” 

You can only laugh, enjoying the feeling of his body wrapped around yours.

“You won’t be here in the morning,” you muse sadly.

“I mean, I’ll be here, but you won’t be able to see me.”

“Do ghosts sleep?” you ask.

“Yeah.”

“Where do you usually sleep?”

“On the couch.”

“Well, from now on, I give you permission to sleep here with me.”

“Really?” He squeezes your breast.

“Of course. This is going to sound crazy, but… I can even say goodnight to you, although you won’t be able to say it back.”

“I’ll say it back,” Mingyu assures you. “You’ll just have to imagine it.”

“I can do that.”

“Gonna have to imagine a lot of things.” 

You know that a relationship with a ghost isn’t a long-term plan. You know that things can’t really go anywhere with him- but at the same time, there’s almost a peace that comes with having your very own personal spirit who’s in love with you and restricted to your apartment.

“You’re tired, aren’t you, pretty girl?” His breath is comforting against the nape of your neck.

“Exhausted.”

“Then you should get some sleep.”

“You don’t want me to stay up? Don’t want to enjoy every second we have together?” 

“I always enjoy every second we have together,” he laughs. “Something tells me this touching thing isn’t going to last much longer, and I want you to fall asleep in my arms, even if it’s only once.”

“Goodnight, Mingyu.”

“Goodnight, princess.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I love you.”

It’s the last words you hear from him as you drift off to sleep, your body succumbing to the exhaustion of four orgasms. 

When you wake up the next morning, your bed is empty, but you know you’re not alone.

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! I hope I didn't scare anyone off with the serial killer tag, can we all agree this is a soft boy? "what about the people he murdered?" "what murder???"

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🔮 preview. It has to be close to midnight now- it has to be- “I need you now,” you whine, moving your hand from your clit to grab the sheets. “We’ve both been so good this year, this is so unfair-” You’re horny, but you’re sad too, frustrated, desperate, annoyed- There’s no way you can make yourself cum while up in your head like this and you know it. Letting out a groan of defeat, you tear your hand from between your legs- only for it to be caught in a vice grip. Your eyes flash open, heart thundering in your ribcage. Mingyu is kneeling at the foot of the bed, and you watch as he brings your wet fingers to his mouth, licking them clean and letting out an absolutely guttural groan.

cw/ tw. masturbation, oral (f receiving), multiple reader orgasms, unprotected sex, praise, dirty talk, cock warming, bulge kink, deep kink, serial killer/ghost Mingyu, switch Mingyu, hand job, big dick Mingyu, fingering, mentions of suicide, recording sex with a phone, boob worship, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess, good girl. (his) good boy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 3.9k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Mingyu x afab!Reader

bonus

Part of you wishes you’d never told Jeonghan about Mingyu because your friend has become absolutely obsessed with communicating with your apartment ghost. In the year since you last saw Mingyu, there hasn’t been one hangout at your place that didn’t include Jeonghan whipping out the Ouija board.

“We should do another shot,” Jeonghan tells you, sitting on the couch and toying with the planchette.

“It’s almost midnight, I really think you should be heading home,” you sigh. Seokmin, Soonyoung and Seungkwan have the decency to have left half an hour ago, but they’ve never been that excited about your ghost adventures.

“You won’t even let me meet the guy?” Jeonghan whines. “Come on, let's ask Mingyu if he wants to meet me!”

He places the planchette on the board, and it immediately moves to Yes. Sometimes you think Jeonghan’s moving it himself, using your ghost roommate to further his own wants and needs. 

“I’m pretty sure Mingyu will want to spend the full-time slot with me alone,” you insist. 

The planchette moves to No and you roll your eyes while Jeonghan grins at you.

“Give me that!” You take the wooden tool from his hands, setting it on the board. “Mingyu, do you want Jeonghan to leave?”

You feel the familiar cold tingle in your hands, and without adding any pressure yourself, the planchette moves to the word Yes. 

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