A Little Too Much
A Little Too Much
inspiration: you were never too much and anyone who says you are should go find less
summary: your boys always got your back, wether it's from someone or the voices in your head
pairing: ot7 x reader
genre: a little angst but not much, a little fluff but not much (maybe too much…), healing journey
word count: 3 k
warning (not detailed): emotional abuse, implied violence [overprotective BTS with a you’re-my-entire-world-and-without-you-life-is-meaningless kind of love]
“What did you just say to her?” Namjoon’s voice was hard as it cut through the hallway. You wanted to peer around the man’s broad shoulders to see him, but the man tightened his grip to keep you in place. Your eyes still flickered back and forth in an effort to catch a glimpse of Namjoon though.
The man tossed Namjoon a look over his shoulder. “She your’s?” He spoke like you were just some procession to own. It was as if you were merely a thing hold. He hadn’t even bothered to look at you when he spoke, reinforcing the idea that you weren’t the one in charge of your own life. When his eyes found you again he was looking at your body. He never did meet your eyes. And that wasn’t out of respect, rather that they didn’t mean anything to him. Not like the rest of your body might.
“Let her go.” Yoongi’s voice rang out. Instead of Namjoon’s deadly, but calm question, Yoongi’s voice was all rage and power. His voice sounded like death personified. You shivered as memories of Yoongi’s dominating voice pass through your head. “I won’t ask again.” It’s like he was making a promise to violence.
You could hear their footsteps echo throughout the empty hall, but they didn’t seem close enough yet. You tried to peak around the man’s shoulder again, but he pushed you back causing your head to hit the wall. You let out a muffled yelp. The man didn’t even look towards you.
He shifted to look towards Namjoon and Yoongi, but didn’t let go of you. Instead he just pulled you along with him as if you were merely a doll that children were fighting over. His grip tightened and you knew that it was going to bruise.
Honestly, the fact that he thought that you were some thing to drag around hurt more than his grip. You felt your shoulders bow inwards. It was like you truly thought that if you were small enough he might forget you were there. You wanted him to let go of you, but you were too scared to move let alone say anything. And your head still hurt from hitting the wall earlier.
It probably wasn’t the best, but you had learned early on in life that men thought that they could take whatever they wanted— that they were entitled to take what they want— and the more you fought the worse it was. So no it wasn’t that you wanted to be in this situation, backed against a wall by a complete stranger, but it had also been ingrained into your head that if you went with it, it would hurt less.
It’s not fair to blame yourself for your trauma responses. It’s not fair to blame yourself for not doing better when you are simply trying to protect yourself in the only way you know how to. Despite that simplicity, it’s something that many people tend to forget.
In that moment you were reminded of a time when you had been taught that you needed to be less. You definitely needed to talk less, but it would also be good if you thought less too.
You hadn’t felt like a person in those moments. You didn’t feel worthy of anything or anyone. You didn’t feel like you were valued. Instead you felt like a thing that would be fought over but quickly tossed aside once they got bored. And you had a feeling that the man currently holding your arm in a bruising grip got bored very easily.
Needless to say that was before meeting the boys who had tried so hard to help you change those thoughts. But here you were, being thrown right back in. It hurts how little control we have over our own thoughts sometimes. It’s so easy to be swallowed up by the past.
You had always been told that you were too much. You were told that your love was suffocating. You were told that you tried too hard and it wasn’t a good look. You were told that you just needed to relax, as if it were ever that simple.
So you had also spent a lot of time trying to be less, all in an effort to make other people feel more comfortable. You shoved all of these pieces of yourself deep down into a tiny box buried within your heart. You could almost pretend like those pieces didn’t exist at all. At the time, you thought that if you pretended to be less, that you might be more likable— more palatable. And deep down all you wanted was to feel accepted. If you had to lose parts of yourself you thought that it may just be worth it.
Overtime, you had started to forget just how special you really were. You had been playing a part for so long that you actually started to believe all those toxic voices in your heard. The ones that would twist your reality and punish you for taking up space. You had begun to lose your sense of wonder and tended to see the world in more black and white than color.
You had started to feel like less of a person and more of a thing to be controlled.
And before you truly realized it, you were the one feeling uncomfortable, but no one else seemed to mind. No one had tried to make you feel comfortable despite you trying so hard for others. You weren’t comforted or hugged because that would require others to care about you, or at the very least notice.
Instead you were shoved to the side so people could pretend like you weren’t hurting. People don’t like to think about the fact that others are living their own lives, especially when people are in pain. For some reason, other people’s pain is an unbelievably uncomfortable thing for people to sit with; however, that really shouldn’t be a surprising revelation.
It wasn’t until the boys crashed into your life that your perspective changed. Since then the seven of them had made it their mission to fight off anything that told you should be less. Sometimes it ended in physical fights with the people who haunted your past. Other times, they had to settle for comforting words and cuddles in an effort to fight the voices in your head. For them, both were equally important.
They never wanted to you to feel uncomfortable again. They wanted to you to feel safe and happy, but they especially wanted you to feel safe and happy with them. Bonus points if it was while in their arms.
You flinched when the man behind you abruptly shoved you towards Yoongi and Namjoon, causing you to trip over your feet and fall forwards. They both lunged for you. He tried to run but you didn’t even bother looking, choosing to wrap your arms around Namjoon, who had reached you first. You buried your head in his neck and his arms tightened around your waist. You felt him press a soft kiss to the top of your head; it was a stark contrast to the harshness of the past half an hour.
With his arms around you, you felt safe. You always did with the boys. When they hold you, you feel like nothing could harm you. You liked to think that their hugs gave you bullet proof skin.
You could hear the man yelling behind you and Hoseok’s and Jin’s loud voices, but you decided you liked hiding in Namjoon’s embrace much more than facing whatever reality awaited you.
You’ve seen Hoseok’s deadly right hook before. You can imagine Jimin’s sadistic smirk as he plays with his switchblade. And Jin will be donning that unemotional mask that he likes to use to scare the people who threaten you. There is nothing as terrifying as not knowing what is going on in someone’s head.
Besides, Namjoon didn’t seem to mind holding you. If anything his grip tightened when the yelling started like he knew that the loud voices might upset you. So you held him tighter too.
You didn’t flinch like you normally would if you were to feel a hand rub along your spine, but it was gentle. And you think that deep down, when your being held by one of the boys, you know that they would never let any harm come to you. It’s not that you think that they would when you’re not in their arms, but you know they would never let anyone else close enough to touch you when you’re in their embrace. Well, anyone besides them that is.
They really are that possessive.
Taehyung pulls you out of Namjoon’s embrace who leaves an apologetic kiss on your forehead before heading over towards the others.
“Sweetheart, let’s go wait in the car.” Taehyung coaxes you towards the car while holding you to his chest like he’s worried that if one of them isn’t holding you, you might fall apart. He isn’t completely sure what happened before Yoongi and Namjoon got here, but he isn’t willing to take any chances.
None of them are when it comes to you, and your safety.
Jungkook is waiting in the car when the two of you get there. He quickly pulls you out of Taehyung’s embrace and further into the car. Well, more like into his lap. Your legs straddle his waist as you bury your face into his chest. You feel his chest rumble with his soft laughter and his hands come up to cradle your head and neck. You’re willing to bet that he’s trying to silently ask Taehyung if you’re okay over your head.
“Princess” Jungkook calls for your attention and you reluctantly look up at him. It’s not that you don’t love looking at his doe eyes, but you really loved hiding in his chest. Especially when he is laughing. “Let us take care of you, yeah?”
You love that he knows not to ask you if you’re okay. He can already guess that you’re not. And he doesn’t need you to confirm that for him.
You love that he doesn’t force you to talk about anything even though you are sure that he wants answers. He prioritizes your needs over the answers that may make him more comfortable. In that moment his comfort isn’t the one that matters.
Jungkook also knows that you aren’t used to having people to rely on. Too many people have told you that you’re emotions are too much and that you need to tone it down. So he knows that you may not want to rely on him, too worried about what they may think of you, but he also wants to smother those voices.
If he could physically touch those toxic voices they would already have broken necks.
“You can feel however you want to feel, Sweetheart.” Jungkook nods at Tae’s words. It hurts them to see the traces of emotional abuse that you’ve experienced. And it really hurts that they know that they’ll never be able to completely remove those thoughts. However, that doesn’t stop them from doing everything in their power to minimize those voices and provide as much reinforcement as they can.
“Princess.” Jungkook waits until you meet his eyes so you can see how serious he is. “You were never too much. And you never could be too much. I’m so sorry that people made you think that and that they turned your mind against you.” He presses a kiss to your temple as if it could heal your mind. It was something that the boys had all told you before, but you felt your heart swell every time they said it. It was probably why they kept telling you; they could see the way that their words impacted you.
“He’s right, Sweetheart. It was never your fault. We get that it’s really hard to acknowledge that, especially when it’s so much easier to blame ourselves. But it was never you.” His hands run up and down your spine and the repetitive movement makes you a little sleepy. But you can’t help but feel comforted by them.
“We know that it’s hard to believe that, but we’ll always be here to remind you.” Jungkook and Taehyung look at you with such determination that it makes some of those toxic voices in your head go quiet because when they look at you like that it makes you think that they’re right. It makes you think that it was never your fault no matter how many times you were told that it was.
You aren’t ready to fully believe that, the abuse has penetrated your mind too deeply for it all just to go away, but the more time you spend with your boys the more that you’re starting to see it the way that they do. It fills you with hope so even though you know that you’re not healed, you know that you are healing.
It is one of the most wonderful feelings in the world.
The boys wish that they could make it all go away with the snap of their fingers. They wish that they were able to fix all of your problems and remove any and all barriers to your happiness, but they also know that there are somethings that they can’t just fix for you. So, in those cases they stand by you, hold you, and encourage you because no matter what they will always be there to support you. They’re ten toes behind no matter what.
You smile at his words and pull your gaze away from Jungkook’s to smile at Taehyung. You watch him visibly brighten at your smile like you just gave him a shot of dopamine. They love when you smile. And most of the time, when you smile they can’t help but smile too. They will do whatever they can to make you smile like that.
You deserve the world and they would gladly serve it to you.
The others slide into the car with tense shoulders and angry expressions. When you spin around in Jungkook’s lap to see them, you swear that Jimin has blood on the cuffs of his dress shirt but before you can look closer he’s pulling you out of Jungkook’s lap and into his. “Baby, you scared me.”
You want to reassure him, but you aren’t quite sure how to explain yourself. Instead, you hug him back even tighter. He smiles into your neck which makes you smile too. It’s funny how despite everything Jimin can make you smile so easily. You love that he’s able to make you smile because you can remember a time when even smiling was exhausting. Now though, now it feels effortless around your seven boys.
“Let’s go home, Love.” Jin’s voice pulls your attention away from Jimin. He’s sitting in the passenger seat but turns around to look at you. You watch his eyes rake across your body checking to make sure you’re okay. You love that Jin never tries to hide how much he cares about you. He never tries to minimize his love for you.
He wants you to know that he wants you to be okay. And he would do anything to ensure it.
The boys let you live in your own little bubble for a while longer, but you also know that they’ll want to talk to you. They will want to check in with you because they know that in the past people haven’t cared enough to ask.
They never want you to feel like that again so they always make sure to check in with you. They never want you to suffer in silence ever again, not when they can do something about it. Some might call it overbearing, but they would do whatever they need to ensure that you feel seen. And until you ask them to stop they never will.
You remember asking Hoseok about it once, wondering why they were so protective. It had been when you were first getting to know them. He explained that everyone deserves to feel safe and protected. But he also told you that he likes feeling needed by you. He likes being able to protect you.
Not that he told you this, but the boys also love that shy look you get when one of them steps in or has your back because you haven’t quite realized that they’ll always defend you. A part of him wants to cry for you because someone made you feel like you were alone and that you didn’t have anyone to protect you. So no one can really blame the boys for going overboard. At least that’s what Yoongi always says with a smug smirk, but you catch the way his eyes soften whenever he looks at you.
It is difficult to find the balance between giving you space and never making you question if they care. They want to reassure you, but they also don’t want to overwhelm you. The eight of you are slowly finding that balance, but it’ll take some time.
You secretly love it though. Before the boys, people never showed that they cared so maybe it’s a little toxic, but you have your reasons. You love their overprotective nature that never wants you out of their sight because you’re their whole world. You love that they want to do everything for you, not because you can’t, but because they want to. You love that they will be at your side as soon as you ask because it’s their favorite place to be.
But in that moment of peace on the car ride home, you hug Jimin closer. You close your eyes and let yourself take a moment to see how you really feel because for the first time in your life you know that those feelings are valid. You no longer have to second guess or dull them so others aren’t uncomfortable. You know that the boys will accept you regardless.
You will never be too much for your boys and that makes you feel like you could do anything. You think, with them by your side, you could conquer the world.
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More Posts from Floscorde
Arrangement Crossed | K.Mg

Pairing: Mingyu x reader
Genre: arrange engagement au
Summary: Mingyu started to enjoy the arrangement between him and you. What should he do?
Why do birds suddenly appear everytime that you near? Just like me i long to be close to you. - Close To You by Carpenters
Mingyu sprinted from his car, heart pounding, as he rushed toward the scene. One of the doctors at the hospital had mentioned that a fire had broken out in a Gangnam district building—your building. His breath was ragged as he pushed through the crowd, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene. Paramedics and firefighters swarmed the area, the flames now subdued, but the remnants of the fire still smoked in the air. A police officer stopped him from moving closer.
"My fiancée lives there," Mingyu gasped, his voice tight with anxiety.
Just as the officer held him back, he spotted you in the distance. You were casually walking, still in your pajamas, holding a half-eaten ice cream cone. Mingyu's eyes widened, watching as your expression changed the moment you took in the sight of your charred apartment building.
"My apartment!" you exclaimed, your voice laced with frustration as Mingyu hurried over to you.
Mingyu quickly examined you, scanning for any signs of injury. A wave of relief washed over him when he realized you had been safely outside while the fire ravaged your home. His tense shoulders relaxed for the first time since hearing the news.
"Where were you?" he asked, still trying to wrap his head around the fact that you seemed so unfazed by the chaos around you.
You blinked, a bit dazed by everything. "I was out for a meal..."
Mingyu glanced at his watch—half and an hour left before his surgery. "I'm glad you're alright. I’ll drive you to my place for now. I’ve got surgery in an hour."
The procedure went smoothly, but exhaustion weighed heavily on him as he sat in his office afterward. All he wanted was to go home and collapse into bed. But he hesitated, remembering that you were now at his apartment. The two of you had never really shared a space before, and the thought made him uneasy. After all, this wasn’t a typical engagement.
A year ago, your families had arranged for you two to be engaged. It was strictly business—a merger of two powerful legacies. Your family owned the hospital where Mingyu worked, while his family operated a successful medical and paramedical equipment company. It made sense for the families to align themselves, and though the proposal had taken him by surprise, Mingyu agreed to the engagement. What really caught him off guard was that you agreed too.
From what Mingyu knew, you ran a small homemade Korean restaurant near Seoul University. It wasn’t a huge enterprise, but it had a loyal customer base thanks to its affordable prices and excellent food. When news of the engagement broke, everyone speculated that your family needed Mingyu to step in and continue running the hospital, especially since you showed no interest in taking it over yourself. Mingyu knew he benefited a lot from this arrangement—more than he was willing to admit sometimes.
It was nearly morning when Mingyu finally arrived home, expecting you to be fast asleep. He took a quick shower, hoping to unwind before getting some rest. But when he stepped into the living room, he nearly jumped out of his skin. You were sitting on the couch, staring into the darkness.
"You scared me!" Mingyu muttered, his heart still racing. "Why aren’t you sleeping?"
You shot him a sharp look, your voice dry. "My house just burned down. How could I possibly sleep soundly?"
Ah, right. He had forgotten that small but important detail.
"Right... of course." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, make yourself at home. Feel free to use the kitchen if you want breakfast. I’ll head to bed."
Mingyu retreated to his room, hoping for some much-needed rest. But as he lay there, he found sleep impossible. His mind kept drifting back to the strange reality that the two of you were now sharing a roof. It wasn’t that he didn’t like you—far from it. You were smart, independent, and capable. But the idea of being engaged, living together, and yet still feeling like you were strangers unnerved him in ways he couldn’t quite explain.
"Yeah, she's fine. She's alright. She's with me. I'll handle things with the building owner about her place. You don’t have to worry, sir." Mingyu reassured your father over the phone as he finished getting ready for work.
Despite having only gotten three hours of sleep, Mingyu needed to be at the hospital for an early morning meeting as the branch director. He had already filled your father in on last night’s fire, assuring him that you were safe and staying with him for the time being. Ending the call, he stepped out of the closet and made his way to the kitchen, where he was greeted by the sight of you preparing breakfast.
You were wearing one of his shirts.
"I’ll call you later, sir," Mingyu said quickly before hanging up, his eyes immediately locking with yours as he entered the kitchen.
You glanced at him briefly, then gestured for him to sit down as you placed the plates on the table. Mingyu couldn’t help but stare for a moment. You must have noticed because you spoke up.
"I didn’t have any clothes with me," you explained, a hint of self-consciousness in your voice. "I borrowed your shirt, if you don’t mind."
Mingyu nodded. "It's fine."
An awkward silence lingered for a moment before he asked, "Is there anything you need to do today?"
You thought for a second. "I definitely need to get some clothes first. And maybe check on the restaurant."
Mingyu thanked you for the food as you joined him at the table. He picked up his spoon, and as soon as he took a bite, his eyes widened in surprise. The breakfast was incredible. He had visited your restaurant a couple of times and knew you were the mastermind behind the recipes, having graduated with a degree in culinary arts. But still, he hadn’t expected his simple morning meal to taste this good.
"How about your belongings?" he asked between bites. "Anything important you need to check, like documents or valuables?"
"Luckily, I left all my important documents at my parents' place," you said, relieved. "But I do need to talk to the building owner about the fire and the damage."
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. "I’ll go with you."
You both finished breakfast in comfortable silence, and as Mingyu got up to leave for work, he thanked you again for the meal. Before heading out, he made a few calls, one to the aunt who cleaned his house regularly, asking her to pick up some women’s clothes for you, and another to the building manager to arrange an extra parking space for your car.
As he drove to the hospital, he reflected on the morning. He hadn’t expected starting the day with you to feel so... easy. For a moment, he wondered what it would be like if your engagement weren’t just a business arrangement. The thought lingered in the back of his mind as he went on with his day.
"Doctor Kim, thank you for the meal!" the nurses chimed in as Mingyu passed by the emergency room station during his daily rounds.
He blinked in confusion, unsure of what they were referring to. Then, he spotted the neatly packed meals from your restaurant sitting on the counter. You had sent food to his staff. It was thoughtful—something he hadn't expected but appreciated. Mingyu smiled and waved to the nurses, telling them to enjoy the meal before heading to his office, where he found a meal from your restaurant waiting for him as well.
Mingyu quickly shot you a text: Thanks for the meal, everyone’s enjoying it.
You didn’t respond, and Mingyu wasn’t surprised. He rarely texted you, and from what he had observed, you were just as busy as he was. He could understand if you weren’t glued to your phone all the time. Besides, it’s not like he was your priority when it came to messaging.
Over the past week of living together, Mingyu had noticed that the two of you had fallen into a quiet, predictable routine. You would both wake up early, have breakfast together, head off to work, return late in the evening, and go straight to bed. The cycle repeated itself day after day, with only a few short exchanges of "How was work?" or "Did you sleep well?" in between. It was strange to be living under the same roof, sharing meals, and yet feeling like you were still strangers in many ways.
That morning, you casually mentioned that you had signed the lease on a new apartment, not far from your restaurant.
"Do you want to go furniture shopping with me?" you asked over breakfast.
"Sure" Mingyu agreed without hesitation.
And now, here he was, sitting on his couch in a casual outfit, waiting to go furniture shopping with you. It felt like an odd thing to be doing with someone who was supposed to be his fiancée, yet didn’t quite feel like one. Still, Mingyu couldn’t shake the curiosity growing inside him—the thought of spending more time with you, learning more about you beyond the polite small talk and daily routine. He wasn't sure if it would change anything between you, but part of him wanted to try.
"This couch looks good. It fits a lot of people," Mingyu said, running his hand over the fabric as you continued to browse.
You shook your head, clearly unimpressed. "I don't get visitors."
Mingyu chuckled, leaning in a little closer. "What about friends? Boyfriend, maybe?" he teased with a playful grin.
You scoffed and held up your left hand, flashing the engagement ring in front of him. "In case you forgot, I’m engaged."
Mingyu’s eyes flickered to the ring, and he was momentarily struck by the sight of it. You always wore the ring, even though the engagement had been arranged. He, on the other hand, rarely wore his—only during major events or family meetings where it was expected. His profession didn’t really allow for accessories, so he often went without it. But seeing you wear it regularly was a subtle reminder of the commitment hanging between you both.
"Right, how could I forget?" he replied, smoothly continuing the conversation as if the ring hadn’t stirred something unspoken inside him.
Despite the casual banter, the moment felt a little heavier than it should have. He couldn't quite shake the realization that the ring—a symbol of their engagement—was more present in your life than his. It was a quiet declaration, whether intentional or not, that you were his fiancée.
When it came time to pay, Mingyu insisted on covering everything, even after your countless protests. He waved off your refusals, casually brushing them aside as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to take care of it.
"A rib for dinner?" Mingyu requested once he done paying. How dare you to refused.
*
After ten days of living together, Mingyu realized how quiet and empty his place felt without you around. He found himself looking for any excuse to see you, whether it was a quick text, a call, or even dropping by your restaurant. Without fully realizing it, the relationship between the two of you had begun to shift into something he hadn’t expected.
At this point, almost all of your staff knew him. They had even started referring to him as "the boss's handsome fiancé" every time he walked through the door. This month alone, he had visited your restaurant 8 times—sometimes for a meal, sometimes just to drive you home. And he was relieved that you didn’t seem uncomfortable with his presence. In fact, you appeared to be getting used to it, just as he was.
One afternoon, as Mingyu made his rounds at the hospital, he overheard a group of nurses whispering as he passed by, his name mentioned in their conversation.
"If she's the daughter of the owner, then she must be Doctor Kim’s fiancée, right?"
Mingyu, always the friendly type, chimed in with a grin. "I heard my name."
The nurses looked a bit startled but quickly filled him in. "Doctor Kim, the owner's daughter was brought into the emergency room after being assaulted. Isn't she your fiancée?"
What?
Mingyu’s stomach dropped. Without wasting a second, he grabbed his phone and immediately dialed your number. It rang, but someone else picked up.
"Y/n?" he asked, his voice tight with concern.
"Ah, Mr. Kim? She left her phone behind. She's at the hospital right now. A crazy person caused a scene and she got hurt."
Mingyu didn’t wait for more details. He bolted to the emergency room, his mind racing. When he got there, he hurried to the nurses’ station and asked for your whereabouts.
They directed him to a bed where he finally saw you—sitting up, your arm and head wrapped in bandages, while a doctor carefully tended to your injuries. Relief washed over him, but it was mixed with a surge of worry and anger at what had happened.
He approached you cautiously, his heart still pounding in his chest.
You looked up at Mingyu and smiled, a wave of relief washing over you as soon as you saw him by your side. As the doctor finished tending to your wounds, he greeted Mingyu and explained that you would need to wait for the results of the X-ray, as you had hit your head during the incident.
Once the doctor left, Mingyu turned his full attention to you, his eyes scanning over your injuries with a mixture of concern and relief. Without saying a word, he gently pulled you into an embrace, holding you close as if making sure you were really okay.
"I'm so glad it wasn't worse," he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with emotion. He pulled back slightly to look at you. "What happened?"
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the lingering tension from the day. "There was this drunk guy, making a scene in the restaurant. He was about to hit one of my staff, so I stepped in. I got pushed and my head hit the table. This," you pointed to your bandaged arm, "is from some shattered glass."
Mingyu sighed, his jaw tightening in frustration. "I'm calling the police," he said firmly, standing up as if ready to take action immediately.
But you reached out and grabbed his hand, stopping him. "It's already been reported. My staff handled it."
Mingyu paused, looking down at you, the worry still clear in his eyes. Though the situation had already been dealt with, his protective instincts were hard to turn off. He sat back down next to you, still holding your hand, as if to reassure himself you were safe now.
Your mother, the vice president, appeared in the emergency room, her presence commanding attention as she quickly made her way toward you. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, though you could see the worry etched in her expression.
"My heart dropped when I heard my daughter was in the emergency room. Are you okay, honey?" she asked, her voice laced with concern as she reached out to touch your arm.
"I'm fine, Mom," you reassured her with a small smile, trying to ease her worry.
Mingyu stood quietly to the side, observing the exchange with a sense of relief. He was glad to see how close you were with your family, something he hadn’t really gotten to witness much before.
Then your mother turned her attention to Mingyu, who stood respectfully behind her. Her gaze softened as she acknowledged him.
"Thank you, Mingyu. I heard you’ve been taking care of my daughter, especially after she lost her apartment in the fire. And now you're here again," she said, her gratitude clear.
Mingyu bowed slightly, feeling the weight of her words. "It's my pleasure, ma'am," he responded with sincerity.
Your mother waved off the formality with a warm smile. "No need for 'ma'am.' Call me Mother. After all, you're part of the family now—my daughter's fiancé."
The words caught Mingyu a little off guard, though he masked it with a polite nod. He glanced at you, noticing the subtle shift in the room. The formality of your engagement suddenly felt a bit more personal, more real.
After spending some more time talking with your mother and assuring her you were okay, the X-ray results came back clear. The doctor recommended rest and monitoring for the next few days to ensure there were no lingering effects from the head injury. With that, Mingyu insisted on taking you home.
As you left the hospital, Mingyu walked by your side, his hand resting gently on your lower back as he guided you to the car. The day had been exhausting, but knowing that Mingyu was there gave you a strange sense of comfort. It was a feeling that was becoming more familiar lately.
The drive home was quiet, with Mingyu occasionally glancing over to check on you. You stared out the window, your mind still processing everything that had happened, from the fire at your apartment to the incident today. You felt the weight of it all, but at the same time, there was a sense of relief that you weren’t alone in dealing with it.
When Mingyu pulled into his apartment complex, he parked the car and quickly came around to your side to help you out. You couldn’t help but smile at how attentive he was.
As you sat on the couch, trying to unwind from the long day, Mingyu hovered nearby, clearly still worried. You noticed his eyes flicking over to you every few minutes, as if checking to make sure you were really okay.
"You really should rest," he said, standing up and grabbing a blanket from the nearby chair. "I can see you're exhausted."
"I’m fine, Mingyu," you protested softly, though you knew you needed the rest.
He walked over, gently draping the blanket over you, his hands lingering for a moment as he looked down at you. “Just lie down, please. Doctor's orders,” he added with a small, teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood.
You sighed, giving in. The exhaustion was catching up with you, and the couch felt more comfortable with the blanket wrapped around you. As you shifted to lie down, Mingyu crouched down beside you, his expression softening as he watched you settle.
"Better?" he asked, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, pulling the blanket closer. “Yeah, better.”
He lingered for a moment before standing up again, running a hand through his hair. "I think I’ll stay out here with you, just in case you need anything.”
"You don’t have to—" you started to protest, but Mingyu was already grabbing a pillow for himself and setting it on the other end of the couch.
"I know, but I want to," he said simply, lying down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. “We both need to rest anyway. This way, I’ll be right here if anything happens.”
You turned your head slightly to look at him, noticing how comfortable and natural he seemed lying next to you. The tension that had been hanging in the air for weeks felt like it was slowly fading, replaced by an unexpected sense of ease.
"Alright," you murmured, closing your eyes.
Mingyu lay there quietly, the soft rise and fall of his breathing the only sound in the room. He wasn’t saying much, but his presence was steady, reassuring in a way that made you feel safe. After a few moments, he shifted slightly closer, his hand brushing against yours under the blanket. He didn’t say anything, but the gesture spoke volumes.
You didn’t pull away. Instead, you let the quiet warmth between the two of you settle in, realizing that maybe this arrangement between you wasn’t so bad after all.
As you drifted off to sleep, you could feel Mingyu relax beside you. The weight of the day slowly lifted, and with him lying there next to you, it felt easier to rest.
As evening approached, the soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm light over the room. You and Mingyu had both woken up from your nap, feeling more rested but still shaken from the day's events. Mingyu sat up, glancing over at you with a gentle smile.
“Do you need anything?” he asked, his voice still soft but with a hint of concern.
You shook your head, feeling more at ease now. “No, I’m okay. Thanks for staying with me.”
He nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually, I should probably check and clean your wound properly. Just to make sure it’s healing well.”
You hesitated for a moment but then nodded, realizing it would be reassuring to have him take care of you. Mingyu moved to get a first aid kit from the bathroom, then returned and sat next to you on the couch. As he began to carefully clean the wound on your head, his concentration was palpable.
The proximity brought an unexpected intimacy. Mingyu’s breath lightly brushed against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of his body close to yours. You glanced up at him, and for the first time, you noticed how dangerously close his face was to yours. The closeness made both of you acutely aware of each other, and suddenly, your cheeks flushed a soft pink.
There was a moment of shared awkwardness where neither of you knew quite what to say. Mingyu’s fingers brushed lightly against your forehead, and a nervous laugh escaped both of you simultaneously. The sound was light and shy, a clear indicator of the tension and the new feelings stirring between you.
Mingyu’s hands paused as he looked at you, his eyes meeting yours with an earnest expression. The silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions. He seemed to be gauging your reaction, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your lips.
Without breaking eye contact, Mingyu leaned in slowly, and you felt a rush of anticipation. For a heartbeat, everything seemed to stand still. Then, ever so gently, he pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was tender and soft, a simple yet profound gesture that spoke volumes.
You responded instinctively, your lips moving against his in a hesitant, exploring dance. The kiss deepened just slightly, filled with a mutual tenderness that neither of you had expected but both seemed to crave. When Mingyu finally pulled back, his expression was a mix of relief and uncertainty.
“Sorry,” he said quietly, a slight blush still visible on his cheeks. “I just... I needed to do that.”
You smiled softly, reaching out to gently touch his face. “It’s okay. I think I needed it too.”
Mingyu’s smile was more relaxed now, a genuine warmth in his eyes. He resumed cleaning the wound with a renewed calm, the previous tension replaced by a new, comforting closeness. As he finished, you both settled back into the couch, the space between you now filled with a quiet, shared understanding.
Mingyu set aside the first aid kit and took a deep breath, his gaze locking with yours. “I... I know this might sound sudden, but I think we need to talk about where we go from here.”
You looked at him with curiosity and a hint of apprehension, waiting for him to continue.
He shifted slightly, his expression earnest. “I know our relationship started out as a business arrangement, and things between us have been... different from what I expected. But after spending time with you, especially today, I’ve realized something.”
You watched him closely, feeling a flutter of anticipation in your chest.
“Mingyu, what is it?” you asked softly.
He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. About how we’ve been living together, how you’ve been there for me in ways I didn’t expect. And honestly, I’ve come to realize that I really like you. More than just as my fiancée. I want to be with you, not just because of our families or the arrangement, but because I genuinely care about you.”
His words hung in the air, and you could feel the sincerity behind them. Mingyu reached out and took your hand in his, his touch gentle and reassuring.
“I want to start over,” he continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “I want us to settle everything that’s happened and move forward. I want to take you out on dates, to spend time with you as someone I truly treasure. Not just because it’s what’s expected, but because it’s what I genuinely want.”
Your heart raced as you listened, his confession a mix of relief and excitement. It was clear that Mingyu wasn’t just fulfilling a duty anymore—he was speaking from the heart.
“I’ve felt the same way,” you admitted, squeezing his hand. “I never expected this arrangement to lead to something real, but it has. I’ve come to care about you a lot, and I’d like to see where this could go, too.”
Mingyu’s face brightened with a hopeful smile. “So, are we starting over then? Taking a chance on something that’s more than just an arrangement?”
You nodded, a smile of your own spreading across your face. “Yes, let’s start over. I’d like that.”
With a sense of newfound clarity and excitement, Mingyu leaned in and kissed you again, this time with a deeper sense of commitment. It was a kiss that promised not just the continuation of an engagement but the beginning of something much more meaningful.
As the evening drew on, you and Mingyu talked more about your hopes and plans for the future, feeling a sense of anticipation and warmth. The journey ahead was still uncertain, but now it was a journey you were both eager to take together, as partners who truly cared for each other.
*
“Because you’re handsome?” Mingyu chuckled softly, clearly amused by your answer. He had asked you why you accepted the engagement in the first place, and he hadn’t expected your candid response.
“Of course, you’re very handsome and attractive,” you said with a playful glint in your eye. “But beyond that, I didn’t have anyone special, and I didn’t want to go against my parents’ kind intentions, especially when it didn’t harm me.”
“You didn’t go against it?” Mingyu asked, a hint of curiosity in his voice.
You paused to think before shaking your head. “No, not at all. I wasn’t planning to get married. I was just focused on my business.”
Mingyu nodded thoughtfully. “How about now?”
“What do you mean now?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Get married,” he clarified. “Do you want to get married?”
It had been three years since the engagement, and throughout that time, you and Mingyu had maintained your commitment to each other. Even though your parents had pushed for a wedding, you both had insisted on getting to know each other better. It was only after a year of engagement that you truly began to enjoy each other’s presence.
“With you?” you asked innocently, and Mingyu rolled his eyes with a chuckle.
“I wouldn’t ask if it weren’t with me. Do you want to get married to me?”
A scowl formed on your face as you stared at him, your emotions a mix of surprise and curiosity. “Are you proposing?”
Mingyu laughed, his eyes twinkling with affection. “Why? You don’t like it, baby?”
The scowl melted away, replaced by a warm and genuine smile. “I’d love to. I’ve been happy these two years with you. Why not be happy forever?”
Mingyu’s expression softened as he cupped your cheeks gently. “You’re really happy?”
You nodded, your eyes shining with sincerity.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. “Then I’m happy too.”
In that moment, it felt as if everything had come full circle. The uncertainty of the past had given way to a future filled with promise, and both of you were ready to embrace it together.
ok ok requesting a treat for all of us, honestly
sleep demon seungcheol. extra sprinkling of nasty if possible. i want you to out-zaddy you know who.
>:) ok smooch smooch have fun!!!! I LOVE HALIWEEEEEN

❀ Pairing: Incubus!Choi Seungcheol x afab reader
❀ Summary: You can’t seem to sleep, but the strange man in the bar that you can’t visiting promises he can help.
❀ Word Count: 6,239
❀ Genre: Supernatural
❀ Type: Smut, PWP
❀ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.
❀ Warnings: Mentions of insomnia including side effects like exhaustion, dysfunction, derealization, feeling out of it/in weird headspaces, time is not supposed to feel linear in this and it’s supposed to feel kind of liminal-space in places, reader is often confused/thoughts are a little scattered and feels out of it because of proximity to an entity, there are creepy vibes in this, Seungcheol doesn’t always appear the same/mentions of feeling like in danger or on edge around him instinctually, explicit language, sexually explicit content including unprotected vaginal sex, fingering, a lot of spit and cum, nipple play, reference to subspace or an adjacent, choking, oral (f. and m. receiving) multiple orgasms, biting and scratching, I wouldn’t categorize this as explicit dom/sub dynamics but there are power dynamics in some places, mean Seungcheol in spots, like very light humiliation if you squint in one section, overall just…. Weird ass vibes and reccouring scenes/reader not remembering things.
❀ A/N: Hi Jolene Wolene Folene - thank you for requesting this thing that we totally didn’t talk about before I started Haliween and definitely maybe sort of giving me the outlet to write this weird little liminal space demon that I love doing so dearly. Pls enjoy spooky ooky kooky Cheol and his weird little obsession with reader :)
❀ A/N 2: This fic is a part of my Haliween writing event that I’m hosting September - October.
❀ Disclaimer: Disclaimer: All members of Seventeen are faces and name claims for stories. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios. Moreover, none of my works accurately reflect, represent or take a stance on the nuances of Korean culture, cities, people etc. Seventeen members are not Seventeen culturally, intellectually, physically, or representationally in my stories, and should be considered name and face stand-ins for made up characters.
Main Masterlist ❀ Tag List Request Form ❀ Ask ❀ Haliween

Nothing feels real. Your eyes burn as you stare at the computer screen, the letters and the buttons on your email becoming blurry as they swim out of focus. The dull sounds of your office feel as though they’re several rooms over, faint hums heard through walls of plaster.
Pushing away from the desk, you head to the break room, in desperate need of coffee. You know drinking caffeine this late in the afternoon will only further exacerbate your insomnia, and yet you need it if you’re going to get through the next three hours at work.
You’ve hit the point in your endless nights of no sleep where everything feels off, like you’re experiencing things in the third person. You’re there but you don’t feel like it, navigating your day knowing that it’s you doing and saying things at work without really registering that you’re doing or saying those things.
Coffee hisses from the machine into your cup. You stare at it, vision going unfocused again as the smell wafts up to you. Time passes. You stand and stare.
Someone walks into the room, bringing you back to reality as you look over your shoulder and see your coworker come in to fill up their water bottle. They raise their brows at you as though to ask if you’re okay, and you grin, gesturing to the coffee like that’s some sort of answer.
Really, you’re not okay. You have ventured past the threshold of tired into something else entirely. Something that is lesser than, something base and nearly inhuman.
Derealization. It’s a word your doctor had used when you described what it was like for you after so many nights without sleep, the disconnected feeling to the world around you. Even as you walk to your desk, it doesn’t feel real. You logically know that it is, that you exist in a specific time and space.
And yet… you remain buoyed in that space, totally untethered from everything around you. Floating. Lost.
Back at your desk, the words on the computer screen blur again. Come into focus. You type and email. The keyboard makes sounds, but you don’t really register them.
At some point, the day ends.
-
A bright neon sign burns against the darkness of the alleyway. You blink rapidly, holding your hand in front of your eyes to block out some of the light. Looking around, you don’t see anyone else. The sound of the city is muted and far away, but you smell the burning of fuel and the smell of stagnant water under a dripping window air conditioning unit.
You don’t remember walking here. You lower your hand as your eyes adjust to the burning pink above the door. Looking down at your clothes, you’re at least relieved to discover you put on jeans and a t-shirt before going out on an adventure out on the town.
Police sirens wail in the distance. You pull your phone out of your back pocket, thankful you brought it.
“Fuck,” you swear, flashing the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning and you know immediately you’ve sleepwalked your way to this strange, unfamiliar alleyway.
It’s a vicious circle: go days without sleep feeling like you’re a step away from death, or take just enough sleep medication to knock you out but make you sleepwalk.
Shoving your phone in your pocket, you look back up at the neon sign, reading it for the first time. Hush. A shiver goes down your spine at the name, eyes flicking to the blue crescent moon attached to the pink cursive.
There’s a magnetism about the sign. Your eyes dropdown to the door under it, a nondescript metal entrance to what you think is a bar. There’s nothing to indicate that it is a bar, just a gut feeling. Your gut feeling is also whispering at you to go inside, to open the door and step into the cool space of Hush.
Licking your lips, you take one hesitant step forward. The tingling in your spine increases and you feel static in the air. Heart racing, you take another step. Then another. Before you realize it, you’re at the door with your hand on the knob, cool to the touch.
With a deep breath, you pull the door open and step inside.
It’s even darker inside than the alleyway. Gentle piano music plays somewhere in the room and you swivel left and right, trying to gain your bearings as your eyes adjust. When they do, you see a very small room with a single piano in the corner, two booths, a bar at the back, and three stools pulled up to its counter.
A single person sits at the bar. You hesitate in the entrance, drinking in the stranger. It appears to be a man in a dark purple suit, his broad shoulders hunched over where he leans against the wooden bar top. You can’t make out much else beyond the wide shape of his shoulders and narrow taper of his waist, but you can see the crimson hair that glows like flame underneath the dull, flickering light above his head.
“You gonna stand there all night?” His voice is soft, a gentle pur. He turns his head to the side, his profile shadowed. “I don’t bite.” You hear the smirk in his voice when he tacks on, “Not often, anyway.”
Carefully, you approach the bar. There doesn’t appear to be a bartender of any sort or anyone else in the bar, for that matter. You realize that there’s piano music but no pianist, but decide not to focus on it as you enter the man’s line of focus.
When he looks at you, the world stops. It’s like stepping into a bubble, everything else ceasing to exist. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end and you feel your pulse hammer in your throat as you stare at him, unable to take your eyes off him.
He’s beautiful but it’s not that. His eyes are dark, but there is something more there. Something swimming in the depth of the darkness that you cannot place, something ancient and curious and awake. You feel pinned under his gaze, eyes darting to drink in the rest of his features: soft, pouty lips the color of berries, sharp jawline, thick, angular brows.
Stunning. Dangerous. Alluring.
“Hi,” he says, mouth stretching into a grin. His teeth aren’t sharp, but you have the distinct feeling that they should be. “You’re a pretty thing.”
“Um, hi.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“How can you tell?”
His grin spreads, wicked and cutting. “I have a feeling about those things.” His dark eyes drop to the seat next to him. “Have a seat. Maybe I can help.”
Tentatively, you sit down next to him. “You can help me sleep?”
“What if I said I can?”
Sitting next to him is oppressive. His presence weighs down on you, a physical entity that you can’t see. Static buzzes in your mind and your thoughts feel a little sticky, like just being close to him disrupts your frequency.
He smells like jasmine, immediately soothing. You feel your eyes grow heavy as you blink a few times, settling on the stool as you angle yourself toward him.
You’d misjudged his size when you walked in. He’d seemed broad when you first walked in, but you don’t think you fully understood the width of him. The weight of him. Or maybe it just feels that way when you look at him, your perception of him flickering like a bad TV signal.
“Tell me about your sleep problems.”
You shrug. “They’re like any other sleep problems.”
“Not all sleep problems are the same, Pretty.”
“I suppose that’s true. I don’t really know what causes them. I just… can’t fall asleep and then I start getting worried I won’t sleep, so it makes it worse. I want to sleep so bad but it’s like… wanting to sleep only makes it avoid me more.”
“Mmm. Sleep is a fickle thing, isn’t it?”
“My doctors give me meds but the normal dose doesn’t work and the stronger dose… makes me walk around.”
He pouts. “You poor, sweet thing.”
Something about his sympathy makes you flush. You sulk, looking down at the countertop as you pick absently at the peeling varnish on the wood. “I know,” you murmur. “I just want to be normal.”
“I can help. If you want it.”
You glance at him. His eyes are dancing dangerously. Half of you screams yes while the other screams run. You’re only vaguely aware that you’re in a bar alone with a strange man who knows you’re sleep deprived. No one would help you if you screamed. You don’t know where you would run.
His dark eyes seem to read your thoughts and he laughs, shaking his head as he turns to pick up his drink from the bar. “I’m not that sort of creature.”
“How would you help me sleep?”
“Are you accepting my help?”
His question hangs in the air between the two of you. The piano music has stopped, but you don’t remember when it did. Overhead, the light still flickers. On. Off. On. Off. Onoffonoffonoff-
“You’re under no obligation to accept.” His voice is kind. Warm. Soft like your blankets, cozy like your bed. “You’re always free to make your own decision.”
“I want help,” you agree slowly. “I really do.”
His red mouth curves into a smile and again, you’re struck by the thought that his teeth should be sharp. “Good. I’ll help you, Pretty.”
“What’s your name?”
“You can call me Seungcheol.” You give him your name and he tilts his head, drinking you in. “I know.”
“How are you going to help me sleep?”
Seungcheol finishes his drink. You watch him swallow thickly, suddenly fascinated with the way his throat bobs as he does. The smell of jasmine is overwhelming as he leans in, stopping an inch away from you.
The static increases. You feel your blood buzz pleasantly.
“Close your eyes for me,” Seungcheol murmurs, looking at you through silky lashes. “I promise everything will be okay.”
For a moment, you stare at him, the air charged. He doesn’t hurry you along, content to study your face with that same uncanny darkness swimming in his eyes.
Taking a deep breath, you do what Seungcheol says, and you close your eyes.
-
Sunlight wakes you up. You roll over in your bed, squinting up at the window. Your blackout curtains are open, letting the morning beam in on where you’re tangled in your comforter and sheets.
Sighing heavily, you close your eyes again, content to lay in the warm sun. Just as you start to drift to sleep again, you recall a pair of dark eyes and fiery hair. You jolt upright, heart hammering as you remember the exchange.
Snatching your phone from your nightstand, you open your walking app to look at where the hell you went last night, but there’s nothing there. Frowning, you pull the sheets off your body. You’re in pajamas and fuzzy socks that you don’t remember putting on.
Hauling yourself out of bed, you lean halfway into the laundry basket to claw through your clothing. None of the things you wore last night are there, so you go to your closet to wrench the doors open and search.
The shirt from last night and the exact pair of jeans are hanging, completely unworn. Your frown deepens as your confusion rises. Turning away from the closet, you open your phone again and try to get any sort of sense of where you went last night, but there’s no text threads. No signs you used public transportation. Nothing in any of your tracking apps that indicate you left at all.
“Was it a fucking dream?” you mutter to yourself, perplexed.
Sitting down on your bed, you try to look up Hush on the internet. You can find nothing in your city that indicates a bar or establishment like the one you discovered Seungcheol in. You even try social media to look him up - Reddit, neighborhood pages, anything to try and find the stranger from last night.
It seems Hush and Seungcheol don’t exist.
And yet… you don’t remember going to sleep last night after he agreed to help you. And you feel rested today.
Puzzled and a little freaked out, you give up your search. A dream is a dream, and you’re content that you finally feel a little less exhausted and a little more awake. You’ll take the win, getting up to start your day with a little bit of pep in your step.
By midday, you’ve mostly forgotten about the bar and the man in it, only remembering those dark eyes and that red hair.
-
Heat creeps up your spine. You nuzzle against the warmth behind you, the smell of jasmine coaxing you deeper into the embrace. You feel the vibration of laughter against your back, your nerves tingling as you feel feather-light fingers brush up your thighs.
“Tired?”
Immediately you know it’s Seungcheol’s deep voice, that same velvet purr whispered right in your ear. You shake your head no, suddenly not wanting to sleep at all. You press into him further, feeling the way his arms tighten around you as he chuckles, mouth pressing chastely against the spot under your ear.
“Liar,” he teases.
You pout. It might be true, but he could have the decency to pretend it’s not. You open your eyes and look up at him. His hair is like spilled blood in the dark of your room. The curtains are closed, blocking out all light from the moon and street, but your salt lamp still burns in the corner.
Seungcheol looks like the devil in the low, orange light. He’s in a black t-shirt, which is somehow more deadly than the fine cut suit. Your stomach flutters and you squeeze your thighs shut when you realize his hands are brushing up and down your thighs, touch slow.
“Thought you were a dream,” you mumble, words a little thick. “Thought you weren’t real.”
“Dreams can’t be real?” That makes you frown and he laughs, jostling you against his chest. His hands squeeze your thighs and you let out a breathy sound as he nudges you with his nose. “You don’t know anything about dreams, Pretty. Can I show you?”
More than anything you want him to show you. Suddenly your desire for him outweighs any sort of sleepiness, your nerves sparking and coming to life as you nod helplessly against his chest, trying to lean as close as possible.
“Needy,” he chides. He presses a wet kiss to your jawline and you preen, your head falling back against his shoulder. “I’ll go easy so you remember this time, alright?”
“Cheol.”
The nickname sounds familiar. Intimate. Like you’ve said it before - something tells you that you have said it before. You don’t remember where or when, but it’s with familiarity that you moan the nickname again as he nips at your neck, one hand drifting between your legs to pry them open.
He murmurs praise against your ear when your legs drift apart, spreading to accommodate his seeking touch. You’re wearing shorts but it feels entirely too hot under the blankets pooled around your waist. You kick at them and whine, managing to get them down to your knees before he huffs and presses forward, temporarily bending you in half to toss them.
When he settles back against your headboard, you follow him, turning your head to press your mouth to the corner of his. His lips twitch in a smirk, shifting to catch your mouth fully with his.
Seungcheol kisses you like he knows how you like to be kissed - devouring, consuming, hungry. His tongue brushes against yours as he drinks you in as his hand presses between your leagues, applying pressure to your clothed cunt.
You whine into the kiss and he grins against your mouth. A line of spit connects your lips when you pull away panting, looking up at him through half-lidded eyes. His fingers circle your clit gently and your hips buck in his hold against the stimulation.
“Not enough,” you whisper. You grip his wrist with one hand, the other gripping the sheets to bunch them in your fist. “Cheol, please.”
“Hush,” he scolds, biting your jaw. His free hand comes up to your neck, gripping you under your jaw to angle your mouth back to his. “Kiss me.”
You melt in Seungcheol’s grip. His tongue tastes sweet, his grip on you making you dizzy. Your thighs squeeze around his wrist as he works you up, his touch teasing and not enough through layers of fabric.
He knows it’s not enough, content to string you along until you’re writhing against him, back shifting against his chest as you squirm. His kisses drift from your mouth to your jaw, open-mouthed and spit-slicked as his tongue darts out to taste your skin while he goes.
Seungheol’s grip on your chin slides down toward the base of your neck, his fingers pressed tight against your pulse. You can feel your heartbeat slamming in his grasp as he bends your head away from him, lips attaching to the softness of your throat.
His name escapes your lips in a whisper. He hums a pleased sound, tongue dragging up your neck to your ear where he nibbles. “So good for me,” he whispers. “I’ll reward you.”
You follow with an urgent nod, pleased when his hand slides down the waistband of your shorts and underwear. When his fingers brush against the flushed, sticky folds of your cunt, you keen loudly, unable to keep it together.
“So needy.” You can’t tell if it’s an insult or not the way he growls the word against your ear, grip on your throat tightening. “Need my help that bad, huh?”
“Yes, god.”
“I am not god,” he grinds out, voice dark. For a second, the illusion shatters and you glance up at him. His eyes are endless, an ancient thing looking back at you. You freeze in his hold, a prey caught in a trap. Then he softens, pressing a kiss to your brow. “Tell me what you need, Pretty.”
“Hands. Need your hands.”
A bolt of pleasure goes through you when Seungcheol’s middle finger circles your clit. Your nails dig into his wrist, leaving little crescent moons behind. His ministrations are leisurely, giving you what you want but not as fast as you want it.
That’s Seungcheol’s game. He’ll give you what you want, only when he feels like it. You feel a sense of deja vu, realizing that you’ve been here before. Snatches of memories flash through your mind. They pass through your grip like sand, none of them firm enough to grab onto.
“Missed you,” you mumble. “Can’t sleep without you.”
“Ah, there it is.”
Seungcheol is pleased with your recollection. You can tell when he relents his teasing touches, fingers drifting down to press a single digit into your heat. Your stomach flips when he does, relief sweeping through you as he shallowly fucks you with a single finger.
It’s not enough but it’s better. You shiver in his hold, going a little slack in his arms, hips twitching. He’s content to have you like this, working your cunt slowly, watching your reactions as your breathing catches and restarts.
“Feel good?”
“So good.” You can barely get the reply out, words faint. “Thank you.”
“Anything for you, Pretty.”
His kiss is soft against your cheekbone, at odds with the grip he still has on your throat. You feel his hand like a comforting weight, loving the feel of it resting against your pulse. He doesn’t squeeze or choke you, content just to hold you against him.
Seungcheol pulls his fingers out, the wet squelch obscene. “Take this shit off for me,” he tells you, pulling at your shorts.
His heavy hand rests on your collarbone as your hands shoot to your shorts. Hooking your thumbs in them, you shimmy down, lifting your hips with his help to kick them down your thighs and legs to the floor.
Cool air hits your heat as you settle against his chest again. He nestles against your neck, fingers resuming the task of peeling you apart as he sinks his pointer and ring finger into you. You clench around him, loving the stretch and the feeling of his fingers pressing against your g-spot as he slowly strokes you, breath hot against your ear.
Being unable to remember your previous encounter with him feels cruel. Seungcheol knows exactly how to work you toward your high. The slick sound of his fingers between your legs accompanied with his lips pressed against your neck drives you insane.
Unable to keep still, your hips come up off the bed to meet his hand. The hand not fucking you to insanity slides under your shirt. Heat trails his touch. He traces the curve of your breast and your breath stutters, catching in your throat. His nails scrape against sensitive skin, moving higher until he drags his touch over your nipple.
The heel of Seungcheol’s hand presses firmly into your clit. You mewl, thrashing against him, closer and closer to your peak. His strokes turn harsh, finger-fucking you at a brutal pace while his other hand tweaks your nipple, the pleasure-sting making you quake.
“Come on,” he urges, voice deep. Sharp teeth scrape against your throat. “Come for me, Pretty.”
Everything turns to static as you clench around his fingers. You squeeze so tight he can barely continue stroking you through your peak. There’s a high-pitched ring in your ears as you pant through it, vaguely aware that Seungcheol is muttering something against your ear that you don’t understand.
As your orgasm fades, so do you. The world becomes soft at the edges. You feel Seungcheol’s heartbeat against your back and smell jasmine, but you slowly drift away from him, barely able to catch his growl of remember me next time before you’re gone.
-
Cold granite countertop digs into your knees. You barely register the pain, one hand pressed flat to the counter, the other reaching behind you to tangle in Seungcheol’s hair. Your hot breath skates across the surface, the cool stone not enough to combat the heat of your skin.
Seungcheol’s face is pressed as far as he can go into your cunt, the flat of his tongue dragging from top to bottom. You’re nearly catatonic, eyes rolling behind your eyelids as he fucks you with his tongue.
He grunts when your fingers tighten in his hair, holding him close as he sucks harshly at you. He’s loud as he eats you out, his hunger something more demonic and fiendish than you’re used to. You don’t care, pressing back into him as he mouths at you.
His hands firmly pry you open, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You can feel the bruising way he holds you, uncaring as he works you toward another high, so desperate for it that you’re begging.
Begging for what, you don’t know. None of the words that fall from your mouth really make sense. You’re a rambling disaster under the mastery of his mouth, and as you tiptoe the line of your high, it feels like you’ll never unscramble your thoughts again.
You come again, feeling the way you flood his mouth. He doesn’t care, growling low in his throat as his mouth becomes more insistent, fingers pressing into you even harder. Something takes over him in that moment, his grip on you so fierce that you think you might break.
But you don’t. You never do.
-
“Pretty,” Seungcheol murmurs, cocking his head to the side. Your mouth aches where it’s stretched harshly around his cock, spit leaking from the side of your lips. His thumb brushes across the spilled fluid, grinning as he leisurely pops it into his mouth and sucks. “Such a pretty thing, mouth full of cock.”
You hum around him eagerly, shifting back and forth on your knees. He’s got you on the floor of your bedroom in front of your bed, hands linked obediently behind your back while he stands in front of you. His stomach ripples as he flexes his hips forward, driving himself deeper into your mouth.
Your throat seizes around him again and you feel yourself gag. He pouts and pulls back, letting you gasp for breath. Your mouth is a mess of saliva and cum, wet and sore and battered. You don’t care, looking up at him with watery eyes and sticky lips.
“So important to me,” he whispers, nodding as though to assure you. Your stomach flips and you shuffle toward him eagerly, mouth open. “So perfect for me.”
Instead of using words, you stick your tongue out, eager. Seungcheol grins and the room darkens. There is a buzz in the back of your mind that you can’t place, ignoring the feeling in favor of watching him slowly slide back in, letting your tongue scrape the bottom of his shaft.
Seungcheol sighs, tilting his head back as he sets a slow pace, using your mouth as he pleases. He’s beautiful like this, all tan skin, heaving chest, sweat sliding down his neck, red hair damp. His eyes are closed but his mouth is open, cherry lips parted sweetly to show his sharp little fangs as he pants.
So pretty, you think. Even with teeth sharper than they should be.
-
You’re standing in front of a bar named Hush. The pink neon burns bright against the gritty night, hurting your eyes. Turning around in a circle, you notice there’s no one else in the alleyway. There’s a certain charge to the air, a hum that you can’t place, but grows stronger when you turn to face the bar again.
A single door sits under the sign, closed and waiting to be opened. Chewing your bottom lip, you stride toward the door, unsure what’s waiting for you on the other side.
With a hard yank, you pull the door open and step into the darkness of the room beyond. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust to the single, flickering light over the bar, but once they do, you see it’s a tiny room. A single piano sits in the corner near two booths, and there’s only one bar top in the back, a few stools in front of it.
A single man sits at the bar but he’s facing you, leaning back on his elbows as he drinks you in. He’s in a purple suit that would look ridiculous on anyone else, and his red hair is bright enough to light the night like a flame.
He cocks his head to the side, a wicked smirk on his lips. “Hi,” he greets. “Can’t sleep?”
“How can you tell?”
“I’m familiar with these things.”
He looks like a devil. You can’t place your finger on what exactly about his face makes you think so. His eyes are dark as the depths of the ocean and when he smiles, you swear his teeth are sharp. “Need some help?”
You do need help sleeping. The doctors can’t help you. Therapy doesn’t help you. Something tells you maybe this stranger can help you.
“Please.”
“It would be my pleasure, Pretty.”
-
“Seungcheol,” you gasp, hand flying to his wrist to grip him. “Fuck, holy shit.”
Fuck is absolutely right. His hand tightens around your throat, placed just right to make it harder for you to breathe. Your thoughts swim as he fucks into you, his sweaty chest sliding against your back as his strokes grow harsher.
Your knees slide on the bed under the strength of his thrusts. He growls at you to keep up and you whimper, flexing your thighs to remain upright as he drives his cock into you at a pace that sends you hurtling toward your peak.
“So fucking difficult,” he grunts in your ear. His teeth nip your ear lobe and you whine, intoxicated by the smell of jasmine and the tightening knot in your stomach. “You’re always so difficult.”
You don’t know what he means by that, but you don’t think it’s the first time you’ve heard something like that from him. Your thoughts turn to liquid you come around him though, feeling the way you grip his cock like a vice, seizing in his hold.
Everything turns to nothing. You can’t hear, see or feel anything but static. Can’t breathe. Can’t do anything but squeeze and squeeze and squeeze.
And then you're gasping for air, lungs burning as you gulp it down. Falling forward, you crash into the sheets and into complete darkness.
-
“Why do you come and go so often?”
Seungcheol lifts his head from the bed to turn and look at you. He’s still naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, crimson hair clinging to his forehead. He’s on his stomach laying opposite of you, his head by your feet.
Something sparks in his eyes at your question, his heavy brows pulling together, cherry lips downturning. “I only come as often as you let me.”
“What do you mean?”
His face twitches in what you think might be annoyance. “You have a complicated relationship with me.”
“We have a relationship?”
He snorts and turns away from you, resting his chin on his arms as he settles back down, closing his eyes. He reminds you of a cat - a particularly dangerous cat, you think. “I suppose. Most people couldn’t say they have a relationship with me, and yet I keep letting you invite me back.”
“Invite you?”
“Hush. Stop asking questions.”
“But I don’t… understand.”
“Good,” he quips. “Because every time you do, you send me away only to invite me back in.”
-
“Come on,” Seungcheol teases. “You wanted it, so do the work.”
Your thighs ache. A pitiful sound leaves you as you nod, putting your hands on Seungcheol’s shoulders as you lift your hips, legs shaking. You’re exhausted and burned out, but the ache you need filled as you slowly slide up his cock drives you to keep going.
Dropping back down in his lap, you feel sparks. Your movements are slow. Seungcheol’s hands are tucked behind his head where he leans back on your pillows, fathomless eyes watching you as you ride him, a little uncoordinated and weak from the exertion he’s put you through all evening.
“Cheol, my thighs,” you protest, instead trying to grind into him. He raises a brow and you pout. “Please.”
“No. Come on, Pretty, you can do it. You can fuck yourself on my cock and make yourself come. Come on.”
“Cheol.”
“No. Do it yourself.”
Gritting your teeth, you let your annoyance fuel you. Anger burns right alongside pleasure as you find the strength to do exactly as he tells you. Leveraging your hold on his shoulders, you continue to spear yourself on him at a steady pace and slowly, your anger is replaced with bliss.
Seungcheol feels incredible. He’s hard to take, stretching you to the max and at this position, he’s so deep that you swear you can feel him in your stomach. You keep going, nails biting into his skin and drawing blood but you don’t care.
Fire burns in his eyes as he watches you. You stare right back, seething at the way he’s making you do it yourself, a little bit of humiliation stinging the edges of your pride. You can tell he thrives on this, satisfied that what you want outweighs any sort of desire to be stubborn.
Somehow, he always wins like this. Always manages to get you to do what he wants. He’s sneaky like that, knowing just what button to press to get you where he wants you.
Sometimes you feel like you’re a puppet whose strings are connected to his fingertips.
Either way, you manage to drive yourself to an orgasm, shuddering around him as you seat yourself fully in his lap, throbbing around him. He lets out a long groan, eyes fluttering shut as he struggles to keep his composure.
Leaning back against his knees, you catch your breath. He’s still painfully hard inside of you, and when his eyes open, you see his hunger isn’t sated. Your heart lips when he surges forward, fast as an adder. His mouth crashes into yours hungrily and you let him have you, eager at the flutter in your stomach as he shifts, altering the angle.
“I’m not done,” he mutters, kisses turning into sharp bites. “So hush while I take what’s mine.”
-
Something wakes you up from sleep. It’s too dark in your room to see, but your heart is hammering and your hands are quivering. Leaning toward your nightstand, you search for your phone. All you feel is cool wood, no device anywhere.
The dark is oppressive. You don’t remember your room being this dark, the blackout curtains serving as a good device to keep out the city and streetlights, but never so much that you feel swallowed whole. Lost. Devoured.
A tingle buzzes at the back of your neck. You freeze in bed, looking into the never ending darkness. Silence roars in your ears, the outside world completely removed. You can’t even hear your own pulse or breath, the quiet so heavy that panic starts to rise in your throat.
You can’t see but you know you’re not alone - can feel the solid press of something else in the room.
Too afraid to make noise, you resume the search for your phone, fingers moving slowly across the top of your night stand. You can’t find it.
Something presses into the mattress at the end of your bed. You feel the dip under its weight but can’t hear the creek of springs. You give up the search for your phone, snatching your hand to your chest and squeezing your eyes shut.
It’s a dream, you tell yourself. It’s a dream it’s a dream it’s a dream it’s-
The thing in your room moves closer. A scream works its way up your throat where it gets stuck, lodged and unmoving. You squeeze your eyes shut harder, fireworks of color exploding behind your eyelids as you do.
“I know you’re awake, Pretty.” The voice is so low you can barely make out the words. They scrape against you like claws. “You can’t keep doing this,” it says, almost a sigh in its voice. “You know what this is. What I am.”
“Go away,” you whisper, voice weak. “Leave me alone.”
“Don’t do this again.”
“Go away, Seungcheol.”
There’s a low growl that you can feel as it vibrates the air. “As you wish.”
-
The neon sign above the door says Hush. It burns bright and pink against the night sky. You look around, unsure how you got here. Sighing, you pull out your phone to check the time. It’s 3:33 in the morning, which means you’re probably a victim of your sleep walking again.
Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you look up at the sign again. There’s a little blue moon to accompany the pink cursive neon, and though you don’t think you’ve ever seen this bar before, there's a magnetism about it that draws you in.
Curious, you walk up to the door and go in. The lights are dim and you have trouble seeing at first, but you can make out that there’s a piano in the corner, two booths and a small bar with some stools. A man sits at the bar, his back turned to you.
“We’re closed,” he grumbles without turning to look at you. You frown, cocking your head as you drink him in.
The purple suit he wears is an odd choice. His hair is the color of blood, slicked back and a surprisingly nice contrast to the bright color of his suit. A single light flickers above him, painting him in a gold hue.
“What is this place?” you ask, ignoring the fact that it’s closed.
He doesn’t answer for a second. You think he’s going to ignore you, but finally he says, “Do you have trouble sleeping?”
You’re surprised by the question. “Yes, actually.”
“I can help.”
“Really?” You step further into the bar, watching as he turns to look at you over his shoulder. He is painfully pretty, the kind of beauty that reminds you of old paintings of Lucifer. “How?”
“Are you accepting my help?”
Without hesitation you answer, “Yes.”
His cherry red lips twitch and he shakes his head. Picking up his drink, he polishes it off before standing to turn you fully. The weight of his presence presses down on you like an invisible blanket, weighing you down.
“Of course you do.” He strides toward you and though your instincts tell you to run, something else tells you to stay. He looks down at you with a pair of eyes that threaten to swallow you whole if you let them. His lashes are silky and long, a delicate balance to his heavy gaze. “You always need me, right, Pretty?”
You nod, a word - a name - buzzing on your tongue as he looms over you. “Please,” you whisper, thoughts a little cottony, a little dizzy. “Seungcheol.”
He grins, revealing sharp teeth. “Hush,” he murmurs. “You’re mine.”
-
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6 Levi's horrible flirting skills! 9



-> Part 1 and 2!
-> Part 3!
-> Part 4!
-> Part 5!
-> Part 6!
-> Part 7!
-> Part 8!
-> Part 9!
-> Part 10!
-> Part 11!
fast lane | kim seokjin (m)

pairing: Seokjin x Reader genre/warnings: FormulaOneRacer!Jin, PitCrew!Reader, enemies to lovers, only partially factual depiction of the formula one, brief scenes of car accidents, mentions of injuries, alcohol consumption, smut, oral sex(receiving), (not quite) cumplay, unprotected sex (please be safe and responsible no matter what you read in fanfiction!) words: 20.6k summary: “Disgruntledly, you think to yourself how frustrating it is he can be quite so awful of a person and still be so good looking.” Alternatively; Boy Toy racer Kim Seokjin lives to test; the laws of speed, how many women he can bag, how much money he can convince people to give him, and quite how far you can be pushed before you snap.
a/n: this is a month and a half late, but at least I finished it <3 Happy very belated Birthday Seokjinnie!
Sponsor parties were mundane. Not even the fancy hors d’oeuvres, nor the free champagne could change that fact, though you might not be quite so bored had you been someone worth paying attention to.
The room was filled with men in suits and women in sparkling jewels and long dresses, all their faces marred with pride leaving them all to blur together, hard to decipher one rich benefactor from the next. And you were but a little person, wearing a dress you got far cheaper than it had looked and owning a name that meant nothing to those who’d not bother to ask.
And so you stayed within a few metre radius of the refreshments table, hovering as comfortably as you could get while periodically reaching for another bite sized snack, ignoring the judgmental glance you were shot with each empty glass flute you traded for a full. Though you weren’t alone, any member belonging to a pit crew standing about in quite the same way, and you were comforted by your fellow garage rat beside you, regardless of how comfortable Jimin managed to look in a suit.
“Don’t eat that, they’re gross.” You glance up as Jimin elbows your side carelessly, fingers slipping and dropping the small tartelette back onto its plate with a clink. You have to remind yourself not to automatically wipe the slight greasy residue on your fingers against the side of your dress, and pinch the napkin in your hand between thumb and forefinger, glaring at Jimin in turn. “Trust me, that was the first mistake I made tonight.”
Keep reading
No one else But you {Nanami Kento x Reader September One-Shot}

Summary: You have always loved Nanami since childhood however you learned that he has someone he loves. Would you confess or not?
Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except for my characters and plot.
Warning/Genre: OOC, Romance, Fluff, Angst, Comedy, Depression AU (Sorry for the miss grammar)
Sorry for the long wait! HERE IT IS! I hope you enjoyed it!

CEO Nanami Kento x Reader (slight mention of Geto x Gojo)
You have experienced unrequited crushes since you were a teenager; however, a painful unrequited love is a first for you.
Back when you were in high school, you had a crush on your senior, Gojo Satoru.
You had long forgotten what made you fall for such an idiotic man.
It might have been his charisma, his handsome face, his beautiful eyes, or his skills in being good at anything he took interest in.
However, that only lasted in your second year of high school. Satoru, on the other hand, was in his last year, preparing for graduation and entering college life.
You didn’t know how your group had formed with the famous 3rd-year trio.
But Kento and Yu have been your childhood friends since your family moved into their neighbourhood. So being admitted into the same school was no surprise.
Yet at some point in time, your group somehow merged with the 3rd year trio who were popular in their year.
One is Gojo Satoru for his loud and charismatic personality combined with his handsome face, eccentric hair and blue eyes.
Second is Geto Suguru for his mysterious and calm persona. He's also handsome with his long black hair, which seems to tantalize girls and adds to his charm.
And lastly, one of the school beauties is Ieri Shoko, a brown-haired beauty. She was one of the top students in your school, admitted to a prestigious medical university.
Of course, the two were the same, they were guaranteed a spot in the top college of their own choice.
It was quite comical really. A group of juniors being grouped together with some 3rd years.
Even up to this day, it astonished you how your group had formed, but you could still recall it. It was because of your crush on Gojo that these unlikely people had met and formed.
As the years passed, the two completely different groups of friends remained in touch and grew even closer, especially as you all entered college and made new friends. Your group seems to grow bigger.
In one of your favourite restaurant bars, some of your friends were already there and had started drinking by the time you arrived.
Gojo seems to have taken on the role of a host as Geto and some of your friends have yet to come.
The same could be said about your two childhood friends.
Yu was on his way to pick up his girlfriend from work. They would arrive together later, while Kento was still busy at work with Geto, working on a collaboration project.
Both of them had become the CEO of their own company. Each works really hard to create their own.
You couldn't be more proud of Kento for achieving his dream.
Sitting down in one of the booths, you ordered a drink. Watching as your white-haired friend drank and tried to liven up the party. At the same time, teasing and making fun of your friends and catching up.
You couldn’t help the smile on your lips.
Even though you were in a bar, it was a quiet one. One where you could have a drink and relax with soft music playing in the background.
The bar is illuminated with a cozy ambient from the lights. It was one of your favourites because of the atmosphere and the delicious cocktails and foods they make.
The bartender owner greeted you with a smile and served your drink. Taking a sip, you savour the sweet flavour and alcohol on your tongue, feeling the fatigue slowly ease from your body.
Your shoulders, tense from all the work, relaxed unknowingly.
Turning around, you started chatting with your friends, laughing and catching up, and ordering foods to fill your stomach.
As the alcohol flowed and the atmosphere warmed up, some people's tongues loosened and gossip started flowing.
Flicking the ash from her cigarette, Shoko asked, "So, how's it going with Nanami? I've noticed something more between the two of you lately."
You looked up at your friend, your eyebrow furrowing in confusion.
"What do you mean?" You asked. "I have no idea what you're talking about."
Your friend rolled her eyes, her voice lazy as she teased you.
"You and Nanami. What? Don't tell me you haven't confessed even though he has already returned from abroad. You should take the chance. Don't wait for him to confess first, or you might miss your chance."
Hearing this, you panicked and tried to cover her mouth. However, it was in vain as your other friends turned their heads in your direction, curiosity in their eyes, ready to hear more about this juicy gossip.
Shoko just laughed and gave you a smirk.
"It's not like others don't know… more like they already know your painstaking love for your childhood friend for a long time"
She exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke and watched it drift lazily into the air.
"My dear, you wear your heart on your sleeve too easily. The only one who doesn't know is your beloved Nanami."
“Shoko, please! Will you be quiet!” You pleaded as you leaned over and tapped her on the arm, feeling your face flush.
Groaning, you buried your face in your hand.
"Hmm? What's this? I heard something about Y/n and Nanami. Is there something going on?" Gojo asked in a sing-along tone as he came over.
It seems the commotion between you and Shoko caught his attention and now he's ready to milk you dry for gossip, even though you have none.
“Nothing is going on,” You stated as you gave Gojo a slight glare, warning him to drop the topic. But the man seemed to not get the hint or if he did, he ignored it, feigning ignorance.
"Oh, come on now. Don't be stingy."
You groaned again as you shook your head, feeling an incoming headache already.
Taking a sip of your new cocktail, you tried to ignore the man and hoped he would drop the topic. However, Shoko and Gojo didn't seem keen on stopping as they continued to tease you.
“I was just asking about her and Nanami,” Shoko said as she gave a knowing look at Gojo.
Gojo smirked as he glanced at you, taking the hint. A mischievous glint in his eyes.
“And here I thought you were still crushing on me. How could you cheat on me, Y/n?” He pouted, his smooth lips jutting out and the corners of his eyes pointing down as he looked aggrieved at you.
“I didn’t know that you and Nanami were in that kind of relationship.”
“We’re not.” You snapped, starting to get annoyed at the man-child in front of you.
Both of your friends gave you a look, not believing you in the slightest.
"Just admit it, Y/n. We've seen how sad you were when Nanami went abroad to study. You were so wrecked that you lost so much weight and almost failed your first year of University. You were so miserable without him."
Shoko raised a brow at you as if proving a point, continuing.
"We've also known that you have always loved Nanami all this time, even though you had a little bit of 'scandal' with this idiot here."
She pointed at Gojo, who placed a hand over his heart and appeared offended.
"What scandal? Miss, for your information, I have always been a clean man." He stated, his chin pointing up, being dramatic.
You rolled your eyes at him for his exaggeration and turned your head to avoid your friends' inquisitive looks.

You admit that you had a crush on Gojo when you were in high school. You were attracted to his confident personality and handsome face, but that only lasted until graduation.
However, when Kento went abroad to further his education, that's when you realized that your feelings for him were more than just being a childhood friend.
You were in love with him.
You just never realized it. Since growing up, you have been so used to having him by your side that you have unconsciously taken his presence for granted
But when he left, you felt a massive hole open in your heart. An empty feeling inside you as if another part of you has gone missing.
Because of it, you slowly spiralled down from the sudden realization, leaving you a mess.
You have been in contact with Kento through text, but as time passed, it became harder to maintain. With the time difference between where Kento is and how busy you have been with your University life, your contacts slowly dwindled.
And now it has been almost a year before he contacted you again.
Picking up your phone without checking the caller ID, your eyes instantly reddened when you heard his voice, calm and composed as ever.
"How have you been, Y/n?"
It was Kento.
You choked back a sob as tears slowly gathered in your eyes. A deep ache echoed inside you. How much you have missed his voice.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to steady your voice, not wanting to give anything away, as you know that even a little he would be able to pick up on it.
"I'm doing well. Just busy with school. I didn't anticipate our professor assigning such a huge project right at the start and it seems to keep piling up no matter what."
You scold yourself. Of all the things you have to say, you just have to complain to him even though he finally contacted you after such a long time.
"How have you been, Kento? I hope you're doing well. I've heard that winter there was harsher than here," You awkwardly chuckled, trying to play it off.
"It's not too bad, but I do miss the weather there." Kento's short answer tugged at your heartstrings. Slowly, a tear escaped and rolled down your cheek. You blinked hard, trying to stop the others from falling.
There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Kento spoke again.
"....I heard from Yu. It seems you haven't been doing well."
You froze.
You didn't expect Yu to tell Kento about your condition, though with the anxious looks he's been giving you lately, you guess it was a given.
Looking at yourself in the window, your reflection stared back at you. You noticed the dark, hollowed cheeks, dark circles under your eyes, and dry lips.
Your body had obviously lost so much weight that you could feel your bones protruding. Your arms and legs were nothing but nearly skin and bones. Your face is gaunt and haggard.
It appears that no matter how much you hide your circumstances from your friends, it was pointless, especially from Yu.
You realize what a mess you really were in. How much of an asshole you have been for making your friends worry to the point that they have to contact Kento about you.
You gave a strained laugh, "They're worrying too much. It's just...university has been a little tough. I'm still in my first year so it's a given-"
"Don't lie, Y/n." Kento interrupted, his stern voice making it impossible for you to utter another lie.
He's always been like this. He always knew when you were lying.
The tears you had been holding back came crashing down, and all the pent-up emotions you had been suppressing came pouring out like a tidal wave. You couldn't stop the tears from flowing, and your shoulders shook with sobs.
You pulled the phone away from your ear, trying to muffle your sobs and you couldn't help but whisper, "...I miss you so much, Kento."
And just like that, with a few words, Kento was able to break the dam in your heart.
Your cries came out softly, but you were sure Kento heard you. He didn't end the call, but stayed silent, giving you a moment to let it all out and calm down.
Even though Kento was thousands of miles away, you felt his presence beside you, listening and never leaving you. You knew that he would always be there for you, no matter what.
After a few minutes had passed, you wiped your tears and tried to compose yourself but the soft hiccups still escaped your mouth.
"Y/n" Kento whispered, his voice incredibly soft and tender, soothing your turbulent heart.
"...hmm"
"I'll come back. Wait for me, okay?"
The tears, you thought you had finally stopped from earlier, flowed down your face again.
You swear Kento has a knack for making you cry so easily lately you couldn't help but ponder just where he learned such a thing.
Sniffling, you nodded however you remembered that he couldn't see you.
"Mmm..." You gave a soft reply as you sobbed and cried again.
What he said wasn't a promise but a statement.
You know that Kento doesn't make promises because he finds them nonsense and fragile. But you also know that he is a man of his word, and when he says something, he means it.
So when he says he'll come back, you know he will.
It was one of the reasons why you have loved this man.
You made a resolve to start getting back on your feet and working towards a goal.
You were determined to face Kento when he returned with the best version of yourself. Not wanting to show such a miserable wreck that you once were.
If he ever rejects you, at least you can say that you did everything you could and gave it your best. That way, you won't have any regrets.

"Ah~ but I've heard that Nanami has someone he has been in love though."
Gojo's voice snapped you out of your reverie, and a pang of realization washed over you.
It made you remember why you had been so distant from Kento lately.
When Kento finally returned from his studies abroad, you were the first one to greet him at the airport.
You were shocked by how much he had changed. The boy you knew from years ago was now a man.
Mature and calm. Taller with broad shoulders and a lean waist, handsome with a slender brow and sharp eyes, the naivete that was once there is gone.
Instead of a high school uniform, Kento now wears a suit, and his hair is slicked back with an undercut.
No more of the side bangs that you once always played with.
He was so different yet still the same.
He still has that same stern and reserved personality but cares for those close to him, especially to you.
Once you two reunited, you were so happy. You made sure to always try to meet him despite your busy schedule, trying to make up for all those years that you were apart.
At the same time, you also wanted to show your interest but you also know to show some restraint. You didn't want to scare him.
For now, you were content that he was back.
However, one afternoon, just as you were about to meet with Kento to ask him out to dinner, you overheard a conversation between Geto and Gojo.
The conversation was about Kento, and you couldn't help but eavesdrop.
Geto and Kento had recently started a joint project for their two companies.
So it was no coincidence that you found him in Kento's company's rest areas while Gojo was one of the biggest shareholders in Geto's company. It was a given he was also a part of the project.
You took a step back so as not to be spotted and heard your white-haired friend ask if Kento had a girlfriend as one of his female coworkers seems to be interested in your childhood friend.
Hearing this you couldn't help but frown, your hand clenching and a sour feeling rose in your chest.
Geto chuckled and shook his head.
"Really?" Gojo asked in surprise.
"I thought for sure he had a girlfriend since he seems to be the type to settle down first. Or maybe even a fiance."
"No, he doesn't have one but he does have a girl he really loves," Geto said as he exhaled a puff of smoke, tapping his cigarette.
"He was planning to ask her to be his girlfriend, but something happened and it didn't work out. However, I heard from him that he's planning to ask her again."
Gojo perked up.
"Really! Who is it? Who is Nanami in love with? Do I know her?" He asked excitedly, leaning forward as curiosity got the better of him.
Geto only chuckled at the man's antics before patting him on the head, telling him it wasn't appropriate to tell too much as it was not his place to share such a secret.
Gojo could only whine at his friend and dropped the subject, understanding that no matter how much he pestered Geto, his friend would not budge and reveal the identity of the woman Nanami was in love with.
He instead brought up a new topic to discuss, leaving you wondering who was the girl Kento was in love with.
You were stunned. A myriad of emotions surged through your mind in an instant but eventually, they all melted into a strong feeling of bitterness.
No wonder Kento never had a girlfriend for so many years. It turned out he had someone in his heart all along and now he seems intent on getting back with that girl.
You couldn't help but wonder.
What kind of girl does he like? What does the girl Kento love, look like? If that girl came back to him, would he surrender immediately and reconcile with her?
You even absurdly imagine them together.
Feeling a sob escape your mouth, you hurriedly went home that day, cancelling on Kento through a short message. You didn't call him as you didn't trust your voice not to tremble once you heard his voice.
That day, you drank until you couldn't stand.
You were glad you were home and never went out, otherwise you would have called Kento and made a mess of things, which you would have regretted later.
However, ever since then, you have distanced yourself from him.
Avoiding every gathering with your friends to try to minimize the chances of running into him.
You respect Kento too much to burden him with your feelings and ruin everything. You might resent the fact that the girl he loves might not be you but you still wanted to be friends with him no matter what.
Besides, you also have your own principles that you abide by, not wanting to put yourself in a complicated situation if the girl returns.
But by avoiding him so suddenly, he quickly noticed.
He tried to call you, wanting to confront you about such a sudden change.
You could only make an excuse that you were busy with work, but he knew that wasn't the whole truth.
And since knowing Kento for so long, you already know he wasn't the type to let this matter pester for so long and would eventually resort to seeing you in person.
However, you didn't want to see him, not until you could sort out your feelings for him or else you risk breaking down in front of him.
Without any other choice, you quickly set up to go on a business trip.
Successfully stopping him from seeing you as he wouldn't be able to chase after you because his company was in a crucial situation with the current project he was working on.
Thanks to it, you have been able to avoid him completely however, this time you couldn't turn down the invitation as one of your friends is getting engaged.
You knew you couldn't hide forever, and you didn't want to miss your friend's special day so, in the end, you concede.
Meeting him became inevitable.
Anxious and nervous, you have been drinking a lot since the moment you sat down, trying to calm your nerves and distract yourself.
But once they started talking about Kento and you, the bitter feelings you had been able to push back slowly rose in your chest and your mood turned sour.
You unconsciously started drinking heavily and because of it, your temper became fickle.
Eyeing the man in front of you, childishly making fun of your previous crush on him and on Kento, you couldn't help but realize that the man-child in front of you was the reason why this all started.
Suddenly, the urge to wipe that grin off his face with a slap was so dangerously tempting that your hand twitched.
However, you have been a person to never resort to such action and unnecessary violence. So you tried to think of something, attempting to divert your attention or else you might just do it.
You sigh to calm down but a dark expression still shows on your face.
Seeing this, Gojo eye's gleam with mischievous, unaware that he had stepped a foot on his grave, pushing you over the edge.
"What? Someone's jealous? Maybe I should try being your cupid and set you up with Nanami? Hmm? Maybe by then, I could give your pretty little ass a boost and not be a coward anymore."
Your lip twitched.
Maybe wiping that smug look on his face isn't so bad after all, you thought.
Lifting a hand and caressing his cheeks, you caught him off guard.
You gave a dark smile and a shiver involuntary went down his spine, his back sweating bullets.
SMACK!

Walking out of their own car and heading to the restaurant bar, Nanami and Geto let out a sigh of relief, taking off their jacket and loosened their tie.
They have just finished a meeting that has gone on for hours than necessary.
And now having finally finished, all they wanted was to drink, eat and relax throughout the night before being plunged to work the next day.
However, when they entered the bar, what awaited them was not what they had expected as they witnessed you and Gojo in the middle of the bar, engaged in a brawl.
Clearly, both of you were drunk as your faces were red not only from anger but from the alcohol as well. Your words slurring as the two of you yelled at each other.
What started as a harmless teasing quickly escalated into a messy, comedic fight for your friends to witness.
Holding onto Gojo's shirt and the other on his hair, the tall man has no other choice but to bend down as he did the same to you.
Some scratches and light bruises scattered throughout your body and face. Your clothes and hair a mess.
Gojo shouted, "I'm a liar?! What I said is the truth! You're a goddamn coward!"
"You say I'm a coward, what makes you then?!" You shouted as well, breathing heavily and glared at him.
You tug at his hair earning a yelp.
"Don't think I'm clueless you goddamn man-child. I saw it when you two graduated and Geto-senpai confessed! All these years and your relationship hasn't progressed at all! You two have been together and never left each other side and yet you haven't admitted that you love him. You've done nothing but play him all along."
A vein bulged at his forehead, irritated, Gojo pulled at your hair making you groan.
"Shut up you goddamn woman!"
"Fuck you! You white hair old bastard! Just fucking go and splayed your goddamn legs in front of Geto-senpai and finally get laid! You horny bastard!"
You yelled while your friends who have been calmly watching the whole time, even the owner, laughed at your nonsense screaming match.
That right.
When you secretly witness Geto's confession to Gojo on their graduation day that's when you realize.
Your crush for Gojo was nothing more than an admiration because of his confidence. Confidence in being himself while he unknowingly becomes a love-struck fool for Geto.
You envy and wanted that.
You wanted to be a love-struck fool for Kento but your insecurity and low self-esteem prevented you from confessing your love for the handsome man.
However, seeing that this goddamn idiot had done nothing when he had all the chance in the world while you, on the other hand, were a mess, missing Kento, who was abroad and had no face to confess since the memories of you crushing on such an idiotic guy were still fresh in everyone's mind, made you angry to no end.
You slump as your knees got weak not just from the alcohol but from all the feelings you have been holding back, your previous energy leaving you as the bitter feelings spread inside you.
Tears started flowing and falling on your cheeks without your permission. Seeing this Gojo froze, his grip loosening and the once lively bar slowly quieted as you softly cried.
"No...I'm the goddamn idiot here... I've also had the chance... the chance to confess and love Kento but because I'm a coward I didn't take it..."
You admitted.
That's right. You were angry not only because of this bastard but mostly at yourself for being the biggest idiot ever.
And now, learning that Kento has someone he loves and is thinking of being engaged with her.
Regret filled you to the point of suffocation.
"I only had myself to blame..."
You whimper, now completely drunk as you lose coherence and kneel on the floor.
You felt as though everything was crumbling. Slowly losing your mind as you sink further in your sorrow.
Suddenly, a hand grabbed your waist, lifting you from the floor and pulling you away from Gojo's grasp.
You were brought into a warm embrace, your head resting on a broad chest.
It was then that you heard Kento's voice.
Deep, calm and mature, a voice that always makes your heart flutter and the voice that you have come to love.
"I'll be taking her home as she's too drunk," Kento said, carrying you in his arms as he talked to your friends while Geto dealt with Gojo.
You couldn't help but nuzzle further in his arms, burying your head in his neck and hugging him tightly. Unknowingly, Kento's breath hitched and his heart quivered from your actions.
Geto nodded, saying he'd be taking Gojo as well who was completely drunk, his head was swaying from all directions. His legs no longer had any strength to hold him, already unconscious.
Adjusting you in his arms, Nanami looked at you and found that you were completely unconscious.
He sighs but an undeniable faint blush on the corner of his cheeks and ears can be seen if you look closely.
Ieri who had been enjoying the show and her drinks, saw it and she smiled knowingly as she watched Nanami take your things.
"Nanami" Ierie called and Nanami looked at her.
"Be nice to her, okay?"
Nanami's expression didn't change, but he replied softly, "I will."
Nodding at your friends and the bar owner, Nanami carried you out and into his car that was parked outside.
He opened the car door and put you down, taking a moment to look at you and saw your tear-streaked face.
When he reached out to wipe away your tears, your lashes brushed against his fingers. He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm down then got into the driver's seat, intent to take you home.
This time, he was determined to talk to you, even if you didn't want to. He wasn't going to let you go anytime soon.

Waking up, you groggily sat up as you looked around.
Clearly, it wasn't your room as the bedsheets were different. They were grey coloured and quite soft made of a different material from the ones you use.
The pieces of furniture were simple but obviously high-end and looked strangely familiar.
You didn't know how you got here nor did you remember what happened after you slapped Gojo but the feeling of being carried lingered in the back of your mind.
"Your awake." A deep husky voice said as the door opened.
It was Kento, holding a glass of water.
It finally dawned on you that you were in his place. You have been into his apartment a few times in the past however this was your first time staying over.
A nervous feeling settled in your stomach and felt your cheeks flushing. Whether from the lingering alcohol on your body or because of your feelings and the situation you are in, you don't know.
Still drunk and dazed, you obediently accepted the glass of water and took a few sips before setting it down on the nightstand.
An awkward silence envelops the two of you as Kento sat at the edge of the bed. His arms rested on his thigh and looking at you from the corner of his eyes, deep in thought.
You fidgeted. Your head lowered as you played with the bedsheet in your hand, feeling the soft fabric. You didn't know whether you should talk or not.
From the corner of your eyes, you stare at the man that you have been avoiding these past couple of weeks.
Two of his dress shirt buttons were undone, revealing his slender neck and chest, showing a hint of his muscular physique.
His sleeves were rolled up and you couldn't help but gaze at his forearms. The veins stood out along his arms, and his hands were large with defined knuckles and slender fingers.
His hair was slick back however few strands were sticking out, clearly messed up after a long day.
You might have been drunk nevertheless you still remember bit and pieces how he has carefully brought you from his car to his room.
Gently carrying you, laying you down and assisting you change from your work clothes to one of his.
Helplessly you thought, how could a man be so handsome and so caring at the same time.
Your eyes reddened.
The sour feeling from before sprang up again and tears gathered in your eyes.
Lifting a trembling hand, you covered your mouth as a sob escaped, trying to hide it, not wanting to make the situation worse.
You felt the bed shift then two rough and large hands cup your cheeks, raising your face.
Completely opposite from his usual reserve and stern expression, Kento looks at you with concern in his eyes.
"What's wrong, Y/n?" He asked, voice gentle and soft trying to calm you however hearing such tenderness, your cries seemed to grow even louder.
You stayed quiet. Pondering whether to confess everything or not, however, your heart got the best of you and you blurted.
"I love you. I love you, Kento. I have been ever since. I have always loved you... Please don't leave me." You cried as you confessed, your words became disjointed and frantic as you went on.
You didn't know what was Kento's reaction as large tears rolled down from your eyes, obscuring your vision.
You were sure you looked pathetic at that moment as you cried but that didn't matter anymore as you let it all out.
Long years of repressed emotions have completely overwhelmed you.
Your regret when Kento left, your joy when the two of you reunited. The searing pain of learning the truth that Kento has someone in his heart.
The jealousy and sorrow you drowned in as you distance yourself and finally the overwhelming love you hold for the man in front of you.
As you continued crying and repeating your confession like a broken record, warm lips suddenly sealed your lips, stopping your words.
Kento kissed you.
A strong, fierce and almost devouring one with a mix of revenge, and seeking reparation.
It only seemed to deepen as you felt his hand grab the back of your neck while the other drew you closer and tightened his embrace, as if afraid you would disappear.
You couldn't resist and kiss him back with just as much passion as you could.
Lifting your arms, you hugged his neck and pulled him closer while Kento lifted you in his lap, straddling him.
You kissed as if the both of you couldn't bear to separate. Your tongues danced and lips melted with each other.
You couldn't help but let out a moan, calling his name in desperation. A sweet tingling sensation runs through your body, making your toes curl.
It wasn't until the need to breathe that you pulled back.
Resting your forehead against his, you closed your eyes and felt your breaths intertwining.
Kento cups your face, caressing it and look into your eyes as you open them.
Longing, tenderness and adoration.
Emotions you never saw before now lingered in his eyes
"I love you too, Y/n." He said, his voice so tender and full of affection, it left you breathless.
"But what about the girl you like?"
Kento frowns, confusion in his eyes.
"I heard from Geto that you have someone you have loved for a long time." You quietly said.
Your voice trembling, just asking that question tormented you like no other but you had to.
You have to know who it is even if you are afraid of what Kento's answer might be.
Thinking this, your tears seemed like they would never dry as droplets fell on your cheeks.
Finally understanding what you mean and where you're coming from, Kento chuckled, wiping your cheeks and kissing you on the lips again before moving on to your neck where he felt your pulse.
"The person I love is you. I have loved you ever since and have always been. No one else but you."
You sat stunned for a moment as his confession slowly sank.
You sniffled and a fresh wave of tears fell however compared from before it was out of happiness.
Pulling Kento, you hugged him and fell onto the bed and this time, without reserve, you kissed him first.

Extra:
As morning came and illuminated the room in a soft light, Geto was just finishing his talk with Nanami on the phone when he heard the white-haired man in his bed groan in pain, holding his head.
Putting his phone away, Geto went to the kitchen to boil some water.
A few minutes later, he came back with a cup of honey lemon tea, handing it to Gojo.
Gojo who was in pain from a massive hang-over, didn't notice his friend staring at him in silence and quietly sip the hot tea.
"...So, is it true that you love me too?"
"PSHHH!"
Gojo spat out the tea, blushing, "..."
Let's just say another engagement party was arranged later on.

A/n: I had a hard time finishing writing this one shot.
It became longer and longer as I wrote when I was only planning to make a shorter one but then the plot just kept coming up and didn't know how to finish it. In the end, I had to torture myself to stick with it and finish it after more than 3 weeks of non-stop writing.
God, I'm such a masochist.😭
However, as I was writing the confession part, I couldn't help but start crying and I had to stop midway laughing at myself like a maniac. Oh my god.😭
I swear I won't be doing another long one-shot anytime soon. My brain was mush after this.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this fic!
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