Number 11 Please? :3

Number 11 please? :3

11. One night stand with Yeosang or Morning sex with Seonghwa?

My ass be giggling and kicking my feet at this piece when I know dAMN WELL that I’m the world’s grumpiest bitch in the morning <3 enjoy!

Warnings: smut, (consensual) somnophillia, morning sex, cream pie, unprotected sex, seonghwa is rough and whiny 🤤, (slight) overstimulation

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies

K’s 500 this or that: masterlist here!

Seonghwa stirs in his sleep slightly, a quiet moan leaving his lips, feeling the rays of sunlight kiss his eyelids through the curtains. He slowly opens his eyes, and he squeezes his thighs instinctively, waking up from his fragmented dream of something inherently sexual. He doesn’t remember much of it but what he does know that he woke up with morning wood and his mind is just buzzing with clouded lust.

When his vision finally focuses, he realises two things:

One; your back is facing him. He hears your soft breathing as his eyes trace the outline of your back covered by his shirt.

Two; his erection is just pressing against your bare ass, and that his arm is wrapped around your waist.

Seonghwa considers his choices, no clarity given when he’s starting to think with his dick the more he’s instinctively pressing against you. He lets out a shaky breath as his hand snakes under your shirt, and you jolt in your sleep from his cold hands resting on your breast. He holds still for a moment, not wanting to rise you from your slumber. It’s an excuse he gives himself—to cuddle and be physically close to you when it’s evidently more than that.

The soft squeezes he gives your tits become light pinching and tugging on your nipples, soft moans leaving from his gorgeous sleeping partner, and that only weakens his resolve to do anything less than that. Seonghwa presses his lips onto the nape of your neck. At this point, he’s still careful not wake you, the prospect of it all only sending jolts of adrenaline from time to time every time he feels you shift.

His hands smooth over your thighs, slowly trailing closer and closer to the patch of fabric that’s cockblocking him. His sneaks his fingers between your thick thighs, and the moment his fingers come into contact with the wet patch of fabric, his heartbeat quickens. Fuck. You’re this wet already. So he pulls his fingers back, while his strings of rationale slowly snapping one by one.

Seonghwa then decides remove him hands from your tits to tug against the waistband of your panties downwards, stopping every time he feels you shift or groan. Nonetheless, his determination overrides his impatience—and he’s rewarded when he manages to roll your panties low enough just past your knees without disturbing you. He wonders if you are feigning your deep slumber or are you just that deep into your dreamland that you don’t notice, but that this point, his rationale is thinning. He leaves you alone, just to peel his boxers off him, sighing softly as his cock springs out of the stained undergarment, and he tosses it somewhere on the bed.

His fingers find your wet folds again, and he slips a finger in a little too easily. He pauses, taking note of any movements from you, but you remain still.

Then he adds another, the second on slipping in as easily as the first. This time, a grunt slips from you, as you sleepily clench around his fingers. Seonghwa softly curses, just wanting to stuff you full already. His fingers start fucking your wet cunt—slow and smooth movements in and out—and he hears you slowly unravel below him, your soft pants and whimpers only egging him on. Seonghwa wonders what are you dreaming of, now that you’re being fucked with his fingers, your cunt only getting wetter and wetter as he continues.

He pulls his soaked fingers out, wiping it over his nightshirt before he has his fingers back at your folds to pull them open as he lines his cockhead right at your entrance and pushes in.

He throws his head back slightly and bites his lip from making any sound, at how your pussy warms his cock up instantly, and how you’re already squeezing him. Again, he holds still for only but a quick few seconds as his reasoning falters almost immediately when he sinks into you.

He thrusts his hips into you again, but the more he does it, the more he spirals from the way your pussy is just pulling him in. Soon enough he’s practically slamming into you, albeit at his best ability not to wake you up.

Obviously that never works. The pleasure from his cock is bleeding into your consciousness as whatever fragmented erotic dream you had dissolves in your brain. You’re rather disoriented, but your eyes are rolling back in pleasure as Seonghwa has his cock fucking into you, his thrusts growing more rough now that his strings of rationale have completely snapped.

“H-Hwa”, you call out groggily, albeit in between broken moans.

Instead of answering you, his arm wraps around your chest, hand cupping your throat as he pulls you back towards him, and he nips at the nape of your neck.

“So tight, so warm. Fuck. You feel so fucking good, Angel. I love it so much”, he moans into your ear, your mind dizzy and hazed from his husky voice echoing in every nook of your mind.

Seonghwa’s free hand trails down your thighs, and your legs unhook your panties off your ankles. He lugs your free leg over his, your legs spread open as Seonghwa grunts at the new angle that’s gradually turning him more feral—your heat more sopping and inviting, and he’s fucking into you so desperately, that the sound of wet skin slapping overpowers your weak moans.

He doesn’t relent, periodically biting his lip from how much the pleasure is engulfing him, reflected by his thrusts.

“Hwa, fuck, you’re so big- I’m gonna cum-“ you cry, your fingers clawing onto his arm on your waist, the knot taut in your abdomen before completely snapping, white spots splattering beneath your eyelids as you become completely undone, creaming in loads onto Seonghwa’s cock while you cry his name, letting him fuck you through your orgasm.

“That’s it baby. Keep it coming”, he groans, feeling his high ready to wash over him when your cunt convulses around him. “Shit, I’m gonna cum too. Fuck, you feel so good.”

He ruts into you, then stilling as ropes of warm cum stain your walls, a dragged out sigh of pleasure invading your ears as Seonghwa releases into you.

The both of you lay still for a moment, catching your breaths before Seonghwa gently turns you over to face him. You have a small pout on your lips while Seonghwa wears a sheepish yet unapologetic smile before he pecks your forehead.

“Good morning, angel.”

lovers in the night (m.)

pairing/wc; j.yunho x reader (11.3k) genre; sugar daddy au, exes to lovers summary; just out of your college with a freshly printed degree, you set out for a job that would fit your somewhat high standards. after a brief scroll through a sugar daddy website and a meeting set-up, you sit across from the one man you didn't expect to see — jeong yunho, your ex-boyfriend and apparently, a millionaire looking for someone to spoil.

warnings; smut (protected) (in the car ;-;), references to break-ups, heartache, lots of cursing, vomit mentions (does not happen, just referenced), reader is a bit mean but for reasons, miscommunication referenced (past)

part of the ...and it's snowing collab

The ad is absurd enough that you’re shocked you pressed on it in the first place.

Seekingsugar.com. Created for people looking for outside assistance in their financial woes. Income level required to be at a certain level. You could only snort at the number, over twice what you make now. Why someone would need assistance having that much funds for themselves is beyond you, but you digress.

Your finger hovers over the sign-up button. Your degree has gotten you a junior position at a law firm, but it isn’t enough to support yourself, your apartment, and the ever growing interest on the loans you’ve taken out. Enough so that you press the button, inputting your information swiftly before being presented with the homepage. You decide to hide your face in the profile photo to remain anonymous, hoping it would be enticing enough to grab someone’s attention.

Your description is fairly simple: your age, occupation – as vague as you can be – and list of interests. You also add that you’ve just graduated with your master’s degree, and you’re looking for someone to help. After putting enough photos up on your profile, you close your phone, throwing your blanket over your body and falling asleep soon enough.

...

The blaring of your alarm pulls you from your sleep, exhaustion encasing your body as you fling your hand to turn it off. You glance at the time, brows furrowed once you see the notifications. You wouldn’t consider yourself a popular person, a few text messages from your friends every so often, maybe one from your boss (of which you ignore until you’re fully awake). But now, you see dozens of notifications from the app you downloaded last night. You press your finger against the fingerprint reader, almost blinded by the amount of messages in your inbox. A lot are lewd, which was expected. You almost delete the app itself after a moment of clarity, until one particular message stands out from the rest.

yulips - isn’t it such a disaster?

Your brows furrow at the message. What exactly is he speaking of? Recognition breaks through your fogged mind, remembering the status message that you put before you slept: cannot believe i have to resort to asking people for money instead of relying on my employment.

You open his profile. It’s pretty simple - he owns an undisclosed company worth more money than you can even imagine. It’s verified by the site, so he’s legit. His profile states that he’s reached out to five potential receivers, as they call it. Photographs are similar to yours, pictures of scenery. Face hidden. And his age is around yours as well, give or take a year. Ignoring the bitterness that dwells beneath the surface at his net worth, you open his message, quickly replying before starting your day.

dandelion - i just simmer at my desk hoping that someday my manager would walk in and tell me my salary has doubled. unfortunately hasn’t happened yet :( 3

  Your day is busy, most of it spent away from your phone as you try to diminish the caseload. Despite it being the middle of winter (and it actively snowing daily), work hasn’t stopped in the slightest. Clients call to complain about their invoices, calls from other attorneys wanting to speak with certain individuals, your workload barely dented due to the endless notes you had to take. By the end of the day, you’re exhausted, body seemingly moving on its own as you slump into the train seat. Luckily you made it on before everyone else, bodies squishing into the car. You hold your bag close to your chest, finally open your phone. A message from this morning, about five minutes after you sent yours, sits in your inbox.

yulips - overworking employees is neverending, especially in the legal sector. i can count on one hand how many times i’ve been praised while working as an undergraduate at a firm. pretty positive the place is closed now though, so maybe that’s a plus

“Ah, so you were a lawyer?” You murmur.

dandelion - EXACTLY. weary as hell even now after my long day

You don’t expect a response right away, about to put your phone into your bag. It vibrates almost instantly, the night sky profile picture glowing on your screen. So he’s around to talk, then?

yulips - if you’re up to it, i can take you out myself to get some fresh air.

dandelion - you don’t even know my name, yulips. why would i agree to go out with a virtual stranger? you silly man

yulips - messaging isn’t really my thing, i guess. but if you’re not comfortable with meeting me right away, it’s fine with me. i still want to speak with you. hope this will make you feel better.

Another notification appears above his messages, your brow raised.

Yulips has sent you funds. Please review before accepting.

You gasp loudly, people on the train turning around to look at you. Apologizing profusely, you sink further into the seat, feverishly typing back to him.

dandelion - why did you send that??

yulips - i like you. and i want you to know i’m serious about continuing to talk to you. we can meet whenever you’re comfortable.

The amount of money he sent is enough to pay a month’s rent on your apartment, with a little left over. Your nerves rise, wariness creeping in. He’s verified, but he could be a creep. This website can only find out so much about these rich people. You could be setting yourself up for something horrendous. This was all silly, in the beginning. You didn’t think you’d get this far in communication with someone. Having that much money sent to you because he felt a little bad? Your mind just cannot comprehend it.

dandelion - this is too much.

You continue to stare at the amount, another message popping up.

yulips - you deserve it.

You cannot accept it. Not now, at least. Not until you speak to him more.

dandelion - how about i let it sit there until we learn more about one another? i know you’re serious, but i’d like to get to know you before anything else.

yulips - fine by me, my dandelion.

...

Weeks pass, the amount still sitting in the app. He’s quite hilarious - more often than not he messages you throughout his meetings, describing to you how exhausting it is to pretend to care. But he also tells you things you’ve never though of, how his business works from the inside, how his employees hide things despite him knowing of it. How he’s passionate about his work and wants the best, but doesn’t want to diminish the quality of his work for gains. He’s interesting to speak to, most of your day spent dwelling on how he’s doing. It’s humorous, being attached to a stranger through an app. He calls you his dandelion each time you message, teasing responses back and forth.

He hasn’t sent anything else since that initial amount, nor has he brought it up. You’ve been staring at it in your inbox, still debating on whether to accept it. The payment for your apartment is coming up soon and you can afford to pay it now without his money, but you’ll be living on scraps for the next two weeks until your next paycheck.

You sit on the park bench, scarf and hat wrapped around you as you message him.

dandelion - have the other people you've spoken to refuse to accept the money you gave them?

As always, his response is quick.

yulips - no.

You bite your lip, thinking. His chat bubbles appear.

yulips - i’ve sent money to two others. but we haven’t spoken as much as i speak to you. once they accepted the initial amount, they never contacted me back. it’s their prerogative, of course. but i made this account for more than just that.

dandelion - why did you make this account?

yulips - i was lonely.

Knowing him, or enough of him now, the message makes your chest tight. Loneliness holds every hostage, even completely different classes of wealth. Money does make people happy, it would make you happy. But rarely does it ever bring in true companionship. You don’t doubt that he’s been used often. You snort, rolling your eyes. Who would’ve thought that you would feel bad for someone like him?

dandelion - why did you send the money to me almost immediately then?

yulips - im used to being ignored, i guess. ive grown used to others asking that it was just an automatic response to send it to you. i apologize if it was offensive, that's not my intention. i just want you to stay around a while.

dandelion - did you think i'd leave, do you think i’m less than you because i don’t have the amount of wealth you do?

yulips - no.

yulips - never.

yulips - i’m not one to judge someone based on their economic circumstances.

yulips - and i don’t think you’re using me if you were wondering that. everyone falls on hard times, especially now. i wanted a friend, and wanted to help someone if i could. i didn’t realize how much we would speak. and that money is there for you, my dandelion.

You open your inbox, staring at the options. You do need it, whether or not you can admit it to yourself. You press accept, immediately getting a notification from your bank that money has been deposited in your account. He messages you back promptly.

yulips - that’s my girl.

...

“This is stupid,” you murmur, rubbing your sides. “Why am I nervous?”

“You’ve been talking to this guy for over a month now, y/n,” Mingi points out, a lollipop resting between his lips. “And you have no idea what the hell he looks like except for his neck and hands. I would be shivering in my boots if I were you.”

You look at him, frowning, “You’re supposed to make me feel better, asshole.”

“I’ll be there with you the whole time. You’ll be safe, I promise you that,” he pokes your side. “I’m serious. Just tug on your hair twice and I’ll save you from the creep.”

“He’s not creepy,” you roll your eyes.

“Then what’s there to worry about!” he stands, tucking in a strand of your hair. “If he’s not an ass, then you’ve hit the jackpot. And he’s the same age as you and not an old man?” He whistles, hand resting on his hips. “At least you don’t have to deal with wrinkly di–”

You slap your hand on his mouth, scowling. “This is not a sex thing. It’s a I-need-your-money-or-else-i’ll-be-forever-in-debt thing. And if you’re going to act like this then I’ll just ask Hongjoong to come along instead. At least he’s somewhat normal.”

Mingi gasps, eyes wide. “Hongjoong? Over me, your best friend?”

“We’re best friends? News to me!”

“Ha ha ha, you’re hilarious.”

Your fingers play with the edges of the outfit, knowing that Yunho’s money paid for it. In fact, he picked out the outfit based on photos posted on your profile of things you enjoy. He actually chose it well, the fabric resting against your skin comfortably. You didn’t dare look up the price of it, Yunho sending the clothing through a feature in the app. It fits you too well, even. MIngi nudges your shoulder, pulling you out of your lurking thoughts.

“I’m here for you, y/b. You know that, right? I’m joking. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know,” you nudge him back, grabbing your bag. “Ready to go?”

...

The venue is expensive. Neither you nor Mingi ventured out into this neighborhood, the window displays of clothing enough to turn you back around. Everything dripped in wealth, from the people walking down the sidewalks to the streetlights wrapped in holiday decor. Mingi kept his thoughts to himself, but you could see the worry in his eyes as he parked. Yeosang, his partner, was to meet him at the restaurant and dine with Mingi, keeping a watchful eye over you. You get out of the car, tugging down your shirt as you make your way to the front. Pausing, you look back at Mingi.

“You don’t have to.”

He holds up his hand, stopping you. “I wore my fancy clothes for tonight. I’m not bailing out now.”

“I’m being serious,” you place your hand on his shirt, stopping him. “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable because of me.”

“And I’m serious, y/n. I’m not leaving without you, and I’m staying here with you. Don’t worry too much, and enjoy the rich guy.”

Explaining to Mingi that the “rich guy” feels like more than that to you would be pointless, so you merely nod. You enter first to not be seen with him, telling the hostess your name. Yulips told you that it would be reserved under dandelion. She smiles brightly at you, gesturing to the stairs behind her. It’s sectioned off, a reserved gate blocking everyone else from entering. You take a breath, thanking her and following. Taking a quick glance back, Mingi looks up at you with worry as he’s guided to the main hall. You nod at him in encouragement as he disappears from your sight.

Well, so much for him keeping an eye on you.

Your phone vibrates almost immediately, his icon popping up.

mingi - i should’ve known he would reserve a WHOLE fucking floor !!!! oh my god i hate rich people.

y/n - it’s fine, i’ll message you if anything is up.

mingi - still taking you home btw, i’ll wait in that car all night until i see you coming out…!>!>!

y/n - love u :(

mingi - :*

As Mingi said, the floor is empty aside from one table already lit with candles, a small salad resting in front of each side. You thank her as you sit, hands sweaty. He hasn’t messaged you at all today aside from a quick morning text, telling you how excited he is to see you. You doubt you’d be stood up, but what if this is some experiment for him? He is who he says he is from the website verification, but something could happen. You just don’t know.

“My dandelion?”

A man speaks up behind you, oddly familiar in tone. You stand, a small smile on your lips. It drops upon meeting the eyes of the man there. His eyebrows furrow, lips parting as he looks down at you. He holds a bundle of dandelions and tulips in his hand, fingers tightening around the stems.

Both of you speak at once.

“Yunho?”

“y/n?”

“Are you…” he trails off, looking down. “It makes so much sense now, hell.”

“How does this make any sense, Yunho? How could you be him?” You dig through your thoughts, finding nothing hinting at him being the same as the man you’ve been communicating with for weeks now. You open the app, immediately digging through the photos. You pause at the profile picture of him holding tulips. Never in your life did you think you would run into him on a sugar baby app. But you can see it now. The small necklace he wears with his birthday in roman numerals. He’s worn it since you’ve known him.

Knew him.

“I didn’t think it would be you,” he admits softly. “I saw the photos and thought that you two looked similar, but when we were together, you rarely took pictures of anything. I just, I didn’t know.” He looks around. His brown hair is longer now than before, more toned than the freshman college student you remember. There’s a bit of a shadow on his cheeks, ears red as they always are. His suit is expensive from just a mere glance, fitted and tailored to his body. He looks… good. You just didn’t think you’d be seeing your ex-boyfriend right now.

“Should we call it a night?” he asks after a moment, eyes flicking to yours. “I don’t want to force you into whatever this has turned out to be.”

Without another word, you turn around, sitting back at the table. Yunho seemingly freezes at your actions, before walking around the table, slowly sitting down. He places the dandelions in the vase to the side of both of you, swallowing slowly.

“Are we really going to do this right now?”

You shrug, taking a sip of the wine in front of you. “I don’t know, are we?”

“Hello Mr. Jeong and miss, what can I get you started with?” The waiter comes, interrupting the conversation. The frustrated look disappears off Yunho’s face.

“Whatever is easiest,” Yunho nods, and the waiter bows, quickly disappearing. You notice a kitchen on this floor, several staff inside cooking whatever Yunho has prepared. You look at him, his gaze stuck on you when you meet his eyes.

“Kinder to the staff than me,” you note, taking a small bite of the salad.

“I’ve been nice to you this whole time, y/n. Nothing that has come out from my mouth was foul.”

You merely snort, taking another bite of the salad, “Sure.”

The conversation ceases, quiet chewing the only sound heard from the two of you. Yunho seems to be stuck in his thoughts as are you, his gaze glued to his food. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, no, but it is strange. Sitting in front of your rich ex-boyfriend in an outfit he picked out for you. It’s silly even, the odds not in your favor in the slightest. The universe deciding that the two of you need to see each other again.

No matter the circumstances.

The waiter comes back soon after the lull in conversation, nervously placing down the plates in front of the two of you. You send him a warm smile and his body sighs in relief, leaving you two alone. Confused, you look up from your plate at Yunho. His jaw is tight, brows furrowed as he takes a bite of his food. Ah, perhaps the waiter thought Yunho was irritated with him.

“You could at least pretend to be nice,” you mumble, slowly taking a bite. You can only hold back your moan at how good the food is, trying to stay as neutral as possible in front of him. “The guy thinks you’re pissed off at him.”

His brows relax for a moment, a slow breath escaping him. “Why are we doing this?”

“You offered me dinner, Yunho. I’m not going to deny that.”

Your stomach twists the more you look at him, the pity only growing in size. You planned on marrying the man in front of you, planned your whole life out together. And now each time you look at him you think about the tears, the heartache.

“This isn’t good for either of us,” he says. “How the hell am I supposed to have a normal dinner when I’m sitting at a table with the girl who broke me?”

You scoff, “I? I broke you?”

“Did you forget you were the one who called everything off? You ended us.”

Your grip around the fork tightens. “I had to end things because you just didn’t care about us.”

“That’s not true--”

“Yunho, you were never home. Every fucking night I slept in that bed alone. I tried to make things work, I did. I dealt with that for years because I wanted you to be successful. I made you breakfast in the morning you didn’t eat and dinner in the evening you said you were too tired to swallow. I went to your study room and sat with you in silence because that was the only time we could spend together. I tried for you for years, but you didn’t try for me. I ended things because it seemed like I was the only one putting effort in for us. So I’m sorry that I want to enjoy a meal I can’t ever afford despite sitting at the table with the man that broke me. Not the other way around.”

His chopsticks hover over his plate, eyes glued to yours. There’s little anger in them. Yunho has always been an open book when it came to his feelings. The slight downturn of his lips, the focused gaze. The tremble of his hands. It reminds you of the night you told him over dinner that it would be the last. How he cried over the bed you shared, fists digging into the sheets as you grabbed your things. The broken I love you as you shut the door behind you, holding back your sobs long enough to break down once you parked in front of your friend’s house.

“You didn’t tell me.”

You didn’t. At the time you were so resolute in your decision that you didn’t bother to explain it to him. It should have been obvious, yes, but Yunho wasn’t around enough to see anything. You should have talked to him. The exhaustion of the situation was too much at the time for you to care about his feelings anymore.

“I know,” you say simply, taking another bite. “And if it means anything, I’m happy.”

“For?”

You look up at him. “I’m happy you’ve made it to where you are now. Those long nights led to something amazing, right? That’s all that matters now.”

“y/n–”

Your phone vibrates, your eyes flicking to the screen.

mingi - you did NOT update me on the rich guy ??? what’s going ON!!!!!!!!

You snort, opening his message and quickly typing back.

y/n - oh you’re going to lose it when i let you know what’s up later 😭

mingi - ARRRGGGHHHuhhhhh 🗣️

You put your phone face down, looking back at Yunho.

“Are you enjoying your meal?” The waiter comes back, body slightly turned towards you. You nod quickly, smiling.

“Thank you for your effort sir.” The waiter is flustered, rubbing his hands against his outfit as he glances between the both of you.

“Ah, there is no need to thank me miss. The next course will be coming shortly.” He speeds off, an amused smile on your face as you place your fork down.

“He’s a nervous wreck,” you point out, “What’d you tell him?”

“Nothing,” Yunho shrugs. “When I made a reservation, I told them to provide good service since I will be bringing a date. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

That could panic even the chefs in the kitchen. Especially given how wealthy he is, he could complain and ruin this whole restaurant. Surely he must know that. After a moment you grab your phone, quickly searching up his name. His face pops up in an instant. Largest shareholder of a vaguely familiar line of luxury hotels. It would take several months rent for you to even think of staying a night there without plummeting into more debt.

Yunho peeks at your screen, frowning once he sees what it is. You pull your phone closer to you. “Nosy.”

“You could have asked me.”

“You don’t seem up for conversation.”

“I’m trying to have a good time here, y/n,” his tone is exasperated now. “Were you not here to meet the man you’ve been talking with for months? Why search me up when you can just ask?”

You hold back another snide remark, placing your phone into your bag and looking at him. It’s difficult, he has only grown more handsome over the years of not seeing him. In fact, you’re quite nervous sitting here. He can ruin your life if he wants. You doubt he’d do such a thing, knowing him enough from long ago, but he could have changed. You swallow slowly, thinking.

“I was nervous to see you,” you start. “I thought you’d judge me immediately and toss me to the side once you’ve seen me. I didn’t know what you wanted from me.”

“I wouldn’t toss you to the side,” he says simply. “I’ve been speaking to you for over a month, it felt like I knew you already. In the first few messages I did think you’d ask for money and nothing else, but speaking to you was fun. I presumed that we would see each other more after this. Maybe I’d get a chance to show you more than what you’ve seen around here. Help you in life.”

He doesn’t quite say it, knowing there are listening ears out and about. But he infers enough. You two met on the website for a reason. You need money, and he’s willing to provide it.

“I don’t need it.”

“Hm,” he hums. “I know.”

“I’m serious, Yunho.”

“I know.” Despite the tone of the conversation and the circumstances surrounding it, his lip curves, eyes flicking to yours. “I am taking you completely seriously right now.”

Rolling your eyes, you take a small sip of your wine. “Super.”

“Why did you join the site, then? If you weren’t in need of funds, why would you join a site for exactly that?”

You decide not to respond, eyes focused on everywhere but him. It only allows him to continue.

“You told me of your woes. How your employer works you to the bone, how you think about quitting every day that you’re there but you don’t because it’s fiscally impossible. How you wished that your employer was at least kind to you, so the workload wouldn’t feel as bad. How all you’ve wanted was a break in between the chaos to enjoy life.”

“Yunho.”

“All I want to do is provide you a chance to do those things,” he says, thanking the waiter as he places another plate in front of the two of you. He lifts his knife, slowly slicing the steak. “I’d never ask you to quit your job because you find it ridiculous to rely on someone for your funds when you’ve made it this far on your own. But you’ll be able to take less hours, maybe take a vacation or two a month. Would you not enjoy that, a bit of a pause between your headaches?”

It is all you’ve ever wanted.

You hold your tongue, his mouth continuing to roam.

“I came here to see you, but I also wanted to convince you to let me spoil you. All I'm waiting for is a yes.”

Your head is spinning as he speaks. Still, after all of this - he hasn’t changed his mind? Yunho isn’t one to lie to your face, always honest in his feelings. He takes a bite of his steak, waiting for you to respond.

“You don’t find this uncomfortable? You and I?”

He pauses eating for a moment, “It’s crossed my mind.”

It feels like you’re trying to pull out information from him.

“But I think it’s more comfortable now that we know each other.”

“Oh you’ve truly lost it,” you laugh, shaking your head. “Why would I let my ex give me anything? It’s just stupid.”

“You have yet to leave the table, y/n,” he shrugs. “You decided to stick around once you saw me. You could have left right when you turned around but you didn’t.”

“I wanted a free dinner.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” He takes a bite of his steak. “I want you–” the words drip with tension, his heavy gaze set on your lips. You watch as his tongue drags across his own, before shifting to yours – “to be mine to take care of. Is that so hard to imagine?”

...

“You’re shitting me.”

“I am definitely shitting.”

“This is just,” Mingi rubs his face, eyes wide as he looks at you. He paces back and forth, tie undone and hanging on his neck, mouth agape. “What the hell?”

“That's what I said when I saw him. What. The. Hell.” And he's still so handsome. More than ever still the type of man you fall for. Only makes the bitterness in your mouth grow. “I don't think I can go through with this, Min. I'm in over my head.”

“You are not going to deny monthly allowances to see him because of dignity, y/n. You're not.”

“This is weird and you know it.”

He laughs. “It's the best and worst coincidence I've ever seen. I mean, you walked down those stairs like you saw a ghost. I really thought I had to go back up there and beat up some old rich guy. Started to imagine how much the legal fees would be.”

“This isn't funny,” you groan, struggling to hold your own smile back. “Take this seriously!”

He holds up his hands, “Fine. What do you think? He said to message him about what your decision is right? Did he give you a time limit?”

You shake your head.

“Okay, a patient man. Good,” Mingi sits down on the couch. “What are you thinking?’ Giving him a chance? You broke up with him because he didn't pay any attention to you or your relationship. Are you willing to go through something like that again?”

yulips - i was lonely

You close your eyes, “He's around those shareholders everyday. He tells me how they exhaust him, and how he looks forward to my messages everyday. He said that I relieved him from the mess momentarily. And… and he does for me too. I don't remember how it was to not have him only a text away. He's grounded me. He's made me happier than I've been in a while. So completely different from how I felt actually being with him years ago. But it was so long ago, Mingi. He could have changed.”

“He could have,” Mingi agrees. “You just have to decide for yourself if you're willing to have a relationship with him again, platonic or not. Are you ready to have him in your life again?”

“I don't know, Min. It's so much in a night and,” You rub your face. “I just want to sleep.”

You’re thankful he’s not one to take your tone as dismissive, squeezing your shoulder once before disappearing from your sight, door locked behind him. You sink further into the couch, thoughts scattered. Yunho has never been one to lie about his intentions. Despite breaking up with him in the first place, everything else was good. He was kind, smart, and caring. He just lost himself in his work and forgot about you. Now, you have to decide whether or not to let him in again. As the person who would be giving you money to spend on yourself. Your eyes flick to your phone, sighing loudly. You can find someone else. It would just take a long long time for it to get to where you are with Yunho now. Another month of deciding to meet them, an actual stranger this time.

...

You stare at the building in front of you, the name of the hotel embedded into the concrete beneath your feet. Yunho told you to meet him after his work has ended. You opted to stand outside and wait for him, still a bit hesitant on showing your face around his workplace despite his insistence. It is quite cold, the winter breeze chilling as you tuck your hands in your pockets. Just as it begins to snow, an older man with an umbrella runs out the hotel, beelining it to you. You take a step back and he seems to quicken his pace.

“Miss y/n! Mr. Jeong has insisted that you wait inside, his meeting is running much longer than he’d like,” the man says quickly, umbrella held above you. “I am Mr. Kim, his assistant. If you please,” he gestures to the front door. Your phone vibrates, Yunho’s icon from the app appears.

yulips - please.

A bit disgruntled and worried for the man holding the umbrella, you thank him, huddled beneath the covering as you make your way inside. The lobby is grand, crystals decorating the walls and hanging from the ceilings. Several trees decorated with lights line the lobby, a large one in the center of a water fountain. Ignoring the assistant for a brief moment, you walk over to the fountain, gazing inside. The water is abnormally clear, not one coin resting at the bottom of the marble.

You’re way out of your comfort zone.

“Miss?” Mr. Kim catches your attention once more. “If you would like, you can wait in his office.”

“Ah, that isn’t necessary-”

“I insist, Miss y/n.” He takes a quick step to you. “It is not on the orders of Mr. Jeong, but I believe that you did not want to be seen around with him. There are secretaries and others still out and about around his office, so there is no need to worry. And they are sworn to confidentiality, of course.”

You frown slightly. If he were a stranger, you’d definitely say no to the offer. But you humbly agree, allowing him to guide you through the lobby and to the elevator. The doors are massive as he types in the code for the 109th floor. You tug at your trench coat sleeves, unaccustomed to being treated like this. He stands by the opening for the door to let you out, the wet sounds of your shoes echoing around the hall. Employees are out and about, bowing briefly when they see you before running off to do some task. Worry riddles your body as you watch them. Yunho insisted that you take a few days off to catch up with him. An immediate no escaped your lips. It’s the holiday season but you firm rarely laxed in work, paperwork likely piling on your desk even now. But he persisted, asking how much vacation time you haven’t used yet, and threatened to call your firm to complain.

You took it as a bluff at first, until you walked into work the next day and saw the pile of work gone off your desk, the lead partner insisting that you leave for a week after your hard work. You questioned Yunho about it but he denied all accusations with a wink at the end of each sentence. Meeting him here was his idea, but now all you want to do is yell at him for interfering with your workplace. Hoping he didn’t say too much.

Mr. Kim stops just outside an office door, Yunho’s name etched into the gold plaque. You bow to him and he bows even deeper, holding out to you a lanyard and a small bracelet. Gold matching the nameplate behind you. You panic, shaking your head.

“I couldn’t take this-”

“It is your access pass, Miss y/n,” he explains as you hesitantly secure it on your wrist. “Though the guest rooms are of course restricted, you have access to the working areas if you need anyone or anything. It deactivates when you leave, and reactivates when you enter our hotel. Simple but sophisticated technology.”

“Can I give it to you once I leave? I don’t really need this.”

He furrows his brows, “You will be around often, Miss. It would be most advantageous if you kept it with you. Mr. Jeong made sure to design it himself.”

Your eyes widen, “Pardon?”

“It is one of a kind, Miss y/n. No one in this hotel has access to this technology aside from Mr. Jeong himself. Ah,” his watch beeps, notifications flying across. “You can use the bracelet to access his office. But I must be on my way. Anyone on this floor can assist you if need be. Thank you for visiting our hotel.” Bowing again, he runs off, mumbling words as he disappears around the corner.

You stand in the hallway alone now, phone tucked in pocket and wrist heavy with the bracelet. He didn’t tell you how to work it exactly, your hand brushing on the door handle. It unlocks almost instantly, the door slightly ajar. You did not plan for this, but you enter his office anyway, the door closing by itself with a light click.

His office is unremarkable, shelves clean and free of debris, desk lined with endless paperwork. Similar to yours in a way. His family sits in a frame behind the desk on the shelves. You take off your coat, placing it on the hanger beside the door. Your eyes roam for a moment, snickering once you spot the one thing you were looking for. Age has not changed Yunho much, a shelf filled to the brim with Spiderman comics. A small figurine sits in front of them all, the iconic crouched pose of the superhero in view. You don’t touch anything though. Even if you did know him before, you still don’t know this version of Yunho.

“Correct.”

The door opens, Yunho holding his cellphone against his ears as he shuts it behind him. His outfit is similar to the suit he wore to dinner, a dark blue with a red tie hanging from his neck. As always, he looks more than handsome. A coat is folded over his arm, listening intently to the conversation. His brown eyes glance to you, pausing for a brief moment. You wave at him, a smile on your lips. He stumbles over the edge of the carpet, before giving you his back. You snicker, sitting down at the small table in the middle of the room.

“Y-Yes,” he stutters. “The reply brief should be filed tomorrow. I’ll ask my secretary to forward you the docket update. Correct. Have a good holiday. Yes. You too,” he ends the call, eyes moving back to you. “I thought you wanted to wait outside.”

“Did you not tell me to come in?” You raise your brow, growing suspicious of Mr. Kim.

“Yes, I did. I just didn’t expect you to agree. Or if you did, I didn’t expect you in here,” he drops the coat back on the chair, glancing over your outfit. “Are you not cold?”

Your pants are a bit loose, but you wore fleece stockings beneath. You point to the coat hanger, “Nope. And you didn’t have to end your call because I’m here, by the way. I’d keep everything confidential. Attorney client privileged, yada yada.”

He rolls his eyes, amusement filling his gaze. “Are you my lawyer now?”

“I wouldn’t dare,” you laugh, shaking your head. “But speaking of lawyer…” You stand from your spot, moving closer to Yunho. You’ve forgotten how tall he is in comparison to yourself, neck slightly tilted back as you look up at him. “Something really interesting happened at the firm today.”

“Oh?” he avoids your gaze, finger dragging across the wooden surface of his desk. Guilt immediately riddled throughout every mannerism of his. “And what was that?”

“I walked into work today, expecting chaos since dozens of filings are due at the end of the month. And you know what the head partner said to me?” You raise a brow. “He told me that I should take the week off. The busiest time of the year, taking a week off. I laughed at him until I saw how serious he looked. I even tried to convince him to let me stay but he essentially pushed me out the building and told me to leave him alone. Very weird, right?”

“Completely and utterly strange,” he agrees. You glance to the side, the red of his ears a clear giveaway. “I wonder why he would do such a thing?”

“I thought so too, you know,” you hum. “Why would he let an employee who’s barely been there for over a year, have a week off? He was yelling at me just last week and threatened to fire me and now? Being nice to me?”

His embarrassed smile slips, “He did what?”

“Yunho…”

He thinks for a moment, “No wonder he was apologetic on the phone. I only asked for two days.”

“First,” you nudge him slightly. “You do not call my job and tell them to give me days off. Ever. I don’t care how long I work or how tired I am, you do not interfere in anything like that. You’re not my partner Yunho. That’s not how this works.”

“I’ll give you what you need since you’ll be missing days,” he says simply. “But I agree, I won’t call again unless he does something to you.”

“Yunho…”

He raises his hands, feigning innocence.

“I can protect myself. You know that well. And I don’t need…” Remembering your arrangement, you stop yourself from continuing further. You do need his money. The complicated feeling just continues to bubble inside of you. His hands rests on top of yours for a brief moment, squeezing before pulling away.

“Since you have the week off, there's no need to rush.” He grabs his phone, typing quickly. Yours vibrates, glancing at the amount on the screen.

Eyes widening, you look at him. “Are you crazy?”

“Your time in exchange for spending it with me. Fair deal, no?” He grabs his coat, slipping his arms inside. You're uttered speechless, his long arms reaching for yours and helping you put it on. “I can't wait for you to see what I planned.”

“You're a bit busy too now, right?”

His grin widens, “I took the days off. Partially. I'm sure something will come up while I'm gone. But you have me all to yourself for the next couple of days. And you're going to lose your mind when you see what I have.”

…

You stare at the motorcycle. The lights shine around it, glimmering in the garage as Yunho points at it quite enthusiastically, fingers wiggling. A small tree sits on top of the back seat, wrapped securely in lighted wires. It looked like Saint Nicholas himself threw up over the bike, red and green covering almost every surface. Even on his helmet, a Santa hat seemingly glued onto the surface. Yunho has always been an eccentric guy, but this is a bit heartwarming. You didn’t realize how much he enjoyed the holiday.

“It took me two hours to get everything secure enough to drive around with,” he crouches, finger dragging across the tightly woven wire. “My friend helped me get it stuck without ruining the paint. I’ve been stopped a few times, but nothing more than a slap on the wrist,” he looks up at you, wiggling his brows. “What’d you think?”

“I didn’t know you were a motorcycle guy, first off,” you grin, crouching next to him. “But this is cool as hell, Yun. Not cool enough for me to ride with you on it though.”

He pouts for a brief moment, before nodding. “Fine. I wasn’t going to give you your own decorated helmet or anything, by the way. Not on my mind at all.”

“No way…”

He grins widely, lifting up the back storage and digging out a helmet. Only slightly smaller than his, he holds it up in the air for you to see. It’s decorated just like his, Santa hat secured well.

“I figured that my dandelion might want to go for a ride at some point,” he says, staring at it. His fingers brush the tinsel. “Now I’m wondering if my sugar baby wants to instead.”

You scrunch your face at his works, “Never call me sugar baby again, just gagged a bit. And you know I’m afraid of bikes.”

He laughs loudly, echoing around the empty garage. Shrugging, he puts the helmets back in their spots, “I know, just wanted to see if you were still afraid. That accident still has you shaken up, hm?”

“You remember?” You can recall the night the two of you were together, seeing an accident in front of you. The man came out unscathed, the greatest luck in the world. But you told Yunho then and there you’d never sit on or ride one. He agreed at the time. It makes you chuckle a bit that significant things in your life often happened when he was around. “That was so long ago.”

“I remember everything I did with you, y/n. Big brain,” he taps his temple. “And I already had a feeling you’d say no, we’re taking the train instead. My car is a bit of a way around,” the look he gives you is sheepish. “Small walk, not too far.”

“Lead the way, daddy.”

His smile disappears in a moment. “Hm?”

“A joke, lighten up.”

“Definitely,” he murmurs. The word make little sense to you, but he turns. His fingers slip into yours without another word, pulling you along. You should protest, should tell him that you shouldn’t be seen with him like this, but you don’t. Out of selfishness is very much the reason. His hands are warm and soft, swallowing yours easily. He has always had pretty hands, that hasn’t changed. Delicate rings wrapping around his fingers, nails so neat you’re sure he has them done at the salon.

He turns the corner and you can immediately spot his car. It’s the old truck his friend gifted him once he passed his driving exam. You remembered how happy he was to own it, kissing the mirrors. You made fun of him then but secretly enjoyed how much joy it brought him. Only later did you tell him it was a gift from you. Purely because his friend ratted him out to you, and you couldn’t deny it. You were going to keep it all to yourself, knowing how he is with big gifts. The two of you struggled a lot back then, but you wanted to make him happy. And it worked.

The sex was definitely wild that night.

It looks still as old as it did back then, not much changing. He opens the door for you and you thank him, the familiar squeak and slam to force it closed. You laugh, running your fingers along the curve of the armrest. You stop at the end, staring. You etched your initials into it, telling him that it was your spot and no one else’s. Seeing it still there, though very faded, makes your chest tighten. If you partner broke your heart the way he told you you did, you wouldn’t gotten rid of that almost immediately. Him having it there, the small heart barely seen next to your initials…

You’re not sure what to think.

“Our girl is still running good,” Yunho hops into his seat, forcing his door closed. “A bit of a fixer-upper, but she always has been.”

“Maybe a run to the shop would do her wonders,” you note, looking at Yunho. “She sounds the same as she did almost a decade ago.” He shakes his head easily.

“Trust me, it’s happened. She turns on easy and off easy, just the little quirks I kept around. Makes her a bit of a heart turner, huh?” He winks at you, shifting the gear into driver. The spiderman air freshener hands on the rearview mirror, swinging as you two exit the garage.

You look at the road, the silence comforting. His hand shits on the middle armrest, palm up, hand open. In another time you’d easily place your hand in his, the car rarely silent as you two laughed and joked with one another. But it’s just different now. Still, the butterflies never went away. You continue to look at his hand, until he reaches up, placing your fingers into his. You look at him and he glances at you from the corner of his eye, his other hand wrapped around the steering wheel.

“Feels weird seeing you next to me after so long,” he admits. “No one really sits there. I drive alone most of the time.”

“That’s why you haven’t gotten rid of my name?” You joke, pointing to the door. “You could have scrubbed that out a while ago, you know.”

“Never,” his tone changes a bit. “It makes her who she is. No matter the memory. And why would I want to erase the mark you left on me?” he squeezes your hand.

You don’t say anything back.

“You have that face.”

“What face?”

He purses his lips, “The worried face. Concentrated. Your brows are all scrunched together, you’ve been biting your lip, barely focused on the road. And you’re rubbing your thumb hard enough to make a dent in my hand. You can talk to me, y/n. I want you to be comfortable with all of this.”

You stop moving your thumb.

“Isn’t this… a lot?” you ask. “Being with your ex-girlfriend in the car she gifted you? Holding my hand? This is supposed to be an arrangement kind of thing. A you give me money and I hang out with you kind of thing. It’s familiar right now. Too familiar.”

The light turns red, Yunho slowly coming to a stop. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t pull his hand from yours.

“Yun?”

He closes his eyes for a second, a small sigh escaping him. “Hold on.”

He drives through once it turns green, the road a bit quiet this time of day. Neither of you break the silence, yourself nervous more than anything else to interrupt his thoughts. Yunho has his moments of growing silent. Holding in his feelings until he had the chance to settle them himself before speaking. Right now is one of those moments. He pulls into a quiet parking garage, thanking the guard as he enters. The truck slowly makes its way to the roof of the garage. He pulls it back into a parking space, hand leaving yours for just a moment. It’s enough to make your stomach flip at the lost of contact, waiting to see what he says. After shifting the gear to P, he turns, looking at you.

“Do you want to end this?”

“Huh?”

“This, what we’re doing right now? Do you want it to stop? Is it too much for you?”

No, you don’t want to end it. No, you want to still do this with him. And yes, it’s an absolutely terrible idea. “It’s not.”

“Are you sure, y/n? I don’t want you to have any regrets. I don’t want you to think I’m forcing you into this. This is all up to you, your choice.”

“Where do you stand?”

He shakes his head, “Tell me what you want first.”

“I…” I want you.

You aren’t a talker. Another thing that broke your relationship. “I want you.”

“You want me?” His tone is solemn, but you can see the inner corner of his lips quirk. “Like hanging out? Spending time with me?” He leans forward, the truck creaking. His hand covers yours. “Fucking me?”

“Yunho!” You laugh, face heating up at his words. “I am not letting you pay me for that.”

His joyous sound matches yours, shaking his head. “It came out wrong. I was going to ask if you wanted to fuck me.”

Yes.

Yes.

Yes.

“Now?”

His eyes widened, “Now? In our shitty truck?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Or second, or third. Seventh, even. The truck has lasted a long long time and seen many many things.

Yunho moves with swiftness, hand reaching down the side of his chair and throwing the seat back. A loud crack echoes around the car, oh shit falling from his lips as he climbs in the backseat, hand gripping yours to follow. You do, giggling as you struggling to make your way over the seats. The very obvious thing to do was exit the car and put your front seats down to get back there easier, but neither of you are thinking clearly. Yunho pulls you close to him once you’ve gotten yourself back there safely, fingers gripping the bottom of your shirt. He pauses barely an inch away from your lips, soft brown eyes meeting yours. A silent are you okay in his irises. You nod, pressing your lips against his first. It’s soft, hesitant in the beginning. But then his tongue drags across your bottom lip.

"Yunho.." you mumble. His hand leaves your hips, tugging down the sweatpants you wear. His fingers tremble slightly as they touch your bare skin, a heavy breath escaping his lips.

“When I saw you in that restaurant, all cocky,” his fingers barely touched you, slightly grazing your skin. “Wanted you so so bad. Ah, so wet already,” he grins against your lips, finger pressing your clit softly.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

With the skill and knowledge of your body’s reaction, he guides your body flat against the seats, slowly pressing two fingers inside of you. A low moan leaves your mouth, and he grins, fingers curving inside of you. “You sound so pretty for me, my dandelion.” he leans to the side of you, lips near your ear. “Do you like it?" he whispers. You try lifting your hips, but he presses them down, stopping you from moving. ”I haven’t done this in years, baby. You gotta let me get you off myself.“ He makes a 'come here' gesture inside you, your hands reaching out to grip his forearm.

“Don’t stop,” you grip his wrist, noticing his pace slowing down. His lips press against your neck, teeth grazing the skin. “Yun–” His fingers move in and out of your cunt, lips hot against your skin as he bits you. You claw at his shirt, desperate to tug it off.

“How could you already do this to me?” he questions, grabbing your clawing hand and resting it against the front of his pants. Your hand cups the outline of his hard-on, squeezing it lightly. His knees buckle slightly, pressing into you. His pace quickens, you yourself burying your face into your arm, thighs squeezing his hand.

“I want you to come on my cock, pretty,” he whispers, slowly pulling his fingers out. You whine, as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. He tugs his pants down, slightly curve cock finally in sight. Yunho has always been pretty everywhere, and his cock was no exception. His finger slips into his back pocket, unwrapping a condom and slipping it over his length. He strokes it a few times, moving a bit closer to you. The positioning is awkward, your hands on the back of the passenger seat and gripping the backseat headrest. He smiles as he looks down at you, gaze flicking over each curve and corner of you.

“Yun, if you don’t fuck me already–”

He rubs his tip against the outside of your cunt, brows furrowed. Both of you know how large he is, sometimes too much for yourself to handle all at once. His eyes flick back up to you, “Okay?”

“Okay,” you murmur. He stares at you, one hand gripping your thigh and the other on your hip as he presses himself inside. You reach down between your legs, rubbing your clit slowly as he enters. Yunho was never one to push your hand away when you tried to get yourself aroused enough as he entered you, encouraging it even. Something else to concentrate on other than his cock pressed against your walls.

He fills you, a low breath escaping you as his hips finally met yours. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Still okay?”

“Perfect,” you whisper, and he laughs, a moan leaving him as you squeeze him. “Move, please.”

With one arm holding your leg over his left shoulder and the other steady against your hip, he slowly moved in and out of you, waiting until you were used to the feeling. Once a low moan escaped your lips, he picks up the pace. He moves his hips a certain angle to hit your g spot with every thrust, leaning down to press his lips against yours again. His kiss was deep as he moved his hips again, grinding against you with force.

A hand leaving your hip, he rubs your clit, “Pretty, so pretty for me.” He picks up the pace and fucks you harder, cock throbbing inside of you. You grip his shoulders as he does so, the sounds of sex echoing around the truck. After a while, his thrusts slowly grow inconsistent. “I want to come with you, my dandelion.”

His thrusts are slow and hard, hand covering your cunt, finger rubbing your clit quickly. “Come with me, please.”

“Yes,” you nod slowly and he moves his hand quicker, thumb desperately to make you come. You tighten against his cock, a low groan leaving him as he reaches his own end. You feel his condom being filled with his cum, hips pressed into yours as he lets go. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you into his chest. The two of you sit there for a moment before he slips out of you, pulling his condom off his cock and tying it up quickly. You reach behind the backseat, a loose hoodie that he always keeps around resting back there.

Still, nothing has changed.

Small kisses to your forehead, you lift your own shirt up and throw the hoodie on, barely giving him a glimpse of yourself. It doesn’t stop him from keeping his eyes glued on you as you do so, a swat from you making him look away. He grabs the other clothing back there, sweats folded neatly. The two of you struggle to situate yourselves, laughs and jabs said to one another.

…

You look down at the fries, avoiding his big, brown eyes. Yunho decided to drive to this restaurant not too far away from the parking garage, the guard giving you two a glance over as you left it. You could only hide your face in embarrassment, hoping he didn’t notice how disheveled the two of you looked. And now here you sit across from one another, eating fast food.

“You never really hold my gaze,” Yunho says, the crunch of fries filling the silence. “Everytime I look at you, you look away.”

“You make me nervous.”

His eyes hold such adoration when they meet yours, open and true. You can barely look at him, it's always been this way. His eyes are what made you fall in love. Never have you seen any prettier.

“Cute,” he chuckles.

“I'm not cute.”

“Beautiful then.”

You cough, grabbing the cup of soda to clear your throat. “You really know how to make a girl feel good.”

“Not any girl. Just you.”

“Shut up,” the embarrassed, shy giggle spills from your lips. If you were Yunho, you're sure your ears would mimic the redness of his. “Is this your version of aftercare?”

“No, it’s yours. Remember when we were in college and we just slept together the first time-”

You cover your face in embarrassment, awaiting his next words. He’s usually quite self-conscious of speaking about taboo subjects in public. You suppose he has grown out of that phase.

“- and you told me after we were done that you wanted me to bring you to that new fast food place on the corner-”

“No…”

“And I didn’t because I was exhausted and you never brought it up again. By the time I wanted to do it we were already broken up. So here we are,” he gestures around, “About six years later, but we made it. As good as you imagined it to be?”

You look around the place. It isn’t as brand new as it was before, but you never really entered. A subconscious thought told you that you weren’t interested, but now you know better. Yunho promised to bring you here and he never did, and you yourself forgot about it. No wonder you hated looking at the sign. Your eyes flick to Yunho, teeth digging into your lip. You thought you would be able to do this with him. Able to be around him and not fall for the man. But he’s Yunho. There’s little not to love.

You just can’t give him what he wants. You can’t do this.

“Why are you looking at me like you’re about to disappoint me?” he asks, brow raised.

“We can’t do this anymore, Yun.”

He stops himself from biting a fry, “What?”

“This,” You gesture between the both of you. “Aftercare. Speaking about how we were back then, trying to fix something. We can’t.”

“I’m not trying to do anything. I want this to work.”

“We are too optimistic, Yun. Pretending like we weren't hurt isn't going to change anything. This relationship is just monetary, exchanged for services. I've talked to you about this already. Having sex with each other, I don’t… it’ll end up with us more hurt in the end.”

“I know. Trust me, I know,” he runs his fingers through his hair. “But the past month, has it meant nothing to you? Do you want to go back to what we were going to do, me sending you money and you having dinner with me, sometimes more than that. Is that all you want out of this? All you want from me?”

If he were anyone else, the answer would be a simple yes. But he is Jeong Yunho, one of the few men you've truly loved and never really got over. One that you wondered what happened to pretty often. He stands here in front of you, sweet dandelions between his fingers, vulnerable. He is now what you wished for him to be years ago. He's here. Present. Never has his eyes left yours since you've been speaking.

“No,” you say softly. “I don’t want this to end.”

“You don’t?”

“I don't know how we can be together,” you admit. “I don't know if I'm ready to be in a real relationship with you. It still hurts.” You had loved him hopelessly. But that was foolish of you then. You protect your heart strongly now.

“I'll wait for you. Anything you need.”

“That's the thing – I don't want you to wait for me. I want you to be with someone who's secure in your relationship. I'm not that person.”

“You have no clue, do you?” He laughs, shaking his head. “y/n. I've had flings, yes, but no other relationships. I didn't want anything else. After you, after us, that was it for me. I fucked, sure, but I never really loved anyone. Not like you. And I fucked it up by not communicating and being around more. I thought everything was fine when it wasn't. And you felt lonely. I never ever wanted you to feel that way, but you did. And it was my fault. I didn't get the chance to fix it, but I have you back now. Unconventionally, but you're in my life. And I'm willing to do anything to make us work. But I want you to know one thing: I won’t stop supporting you if you decide to not want all of the extra things. I still want to help you even if we can’t be together physically.”

This is wrong. Deep down you know it is. And you know that he knows it’s wrong. Both of you sit on opposite sides of the table in a restaurant he promised to take you to when you were in a relationship. It is all wrong. It is so wrong, that making another stupid decision wouldn’t be so bad, right?

“So,” you start, “We will fuck, and you will give me money, and we will spend time together. Nothing more?”

He smiles, “Nothing more.”

You hold out your hand, and he mimics you, shaking on it.

“Don’t fall in love with me,” he teases.

“I won’t,” you laugh, ignoring the blaring warning signs as you do so.

This will be okay.

It will work out.

Right?

this night together - chapter eleven (j.yh + s.mg)

chapter eleven: a new love song

chapter summary: time, and a well worded letter, heals all wounds. finally, it's time to let go.

warnings: nothing really, social drinking, etc.

notes: reminder that if you're reading this on or around 12.3.23 when it's posted, i'm uploading three chapters at once! if you haven't read chapter ten, go do that before you skip ahead!!

pairings: alpha!yunho x alpha!mingi x omega!reader

genre: smut, a/b/o/omegaverse, angst, fluff, romance, polyamory

word count: 5.2k

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The party is bright, bursting with light and color and art. You can feel Hongjoong’s presence everywhere from the moment you step through the doors and you almost feel underdressed. You selected your outfit for him, something a little bolder than you’d normally do, but something that truly suits the occasion and the honored guest. You adjust the top of your black trousers and glance down to ensure the cream white blouse that is parted open is still firmly secured with the hidden tape you painstakingly applied.  You hope your lipstick is staying put. 

The listening party for New World’s new mini album is in full swing, but the night is about more than just that. Their tour has ended, everyone back on Korean soil, and it will be the first time anyone will hear the album from start to finish and the first time you’ll be face to face with them again.

Three months of nothing, no contact except the letter. The letter you’ve read about a hundred times. 

You texted Wooyoung, San, and Seonghwa of course, and they mentioned Yunho and Mingi occasionally, but always in the broader context of what they were doing on tour. You saw them in pictures, travel shots on Instagram or Snapchat stories of their nights out, but otherwise nothing. For three months you let it marinate, and your feelings haven’t changed in the slightest. All you have to do now is find them in this crowd and clear the air. 

It’s no surprise you’re as late as you are, your stomach was in knots getting ready and leaving your apartment had you practically coming apart at the seams. The idea of talking to them is simple, but you’ve rehearsed what you want to say over and over and you can’t imagine how they’ll respond. You take a glass of sparkling wine from one of the caterers and realize there are far more people here than you thought there would be. When you pictured a listening party you expected an intimate crowd, but the gallery space KQ rented is full of faces, some you know and some you don’t. You’re pretty sure you’ve missed the album playthrough at this point, you just hope no one’s noticed your absence. 

“You look so good!” A voice from behind you makes you turn, and you smile when you see Dahan in her sparkly wrap dress. 

“So do you,” You give her a quick, friendly hug. 

“This is your first one, right?” She asks, looking past you to find a drink tray. 

“Listening party?” You clarify, “Yeah,” 

“This is definitely the nicest one so far,” She all but whispers to you, “New World is pulling in that tour money now,” 

“Ah,” You nod. 

“Usually it’s at a nice restaurant or something, not quite so many people,” She explains, snagging a drink, “not that I’m complaining, dressing up is fun,” 

“Do you see Hongjoong at all?” You crane your neck and look through some of the bodies, but you can’t really see anyone else you know closely. 

“Mm,” She joins you, “no, but Yujin and some of the others are over there,” 

You follow her gaze, “Perfect,” 

She starts weaving through and you follow, keeping close to her and protecting your drink as you side step around and behind people. 

When you make it to the little circle of BB Trippin dancers, you slot right in alongside Dahan and give everyone a smile, “Hey,” 

Everyone greets you warmly, but you wonder absently where your little pocket of close friends are hiding. Yujin draws your attention though when she says, “Jaemin’s here,” 

“He is?” Your eyes widen. You barely ever see him, but it does make sense that he would attend an opportunity to bump elbows with people in the industry. 

“Mhm,” She nods, “I saw him talking to Yunho earlier.” 

Butterflies curl in your stomach, “Yunho’s here?” 

“Mhm,” She takes a sip of her drink, “somewhere,” 

“You look really nice,” Minseok interrupts, stepping a little closer so you can hear him better, “I like the whole, you know,” he gestures up and down to indicate he means your outfit and you nod. 

“Thanks,” You nod, “you clean up nice too,” 

“Oh yeah?” He shrugs, “Thanks,” 

You start to turn back to Yujin who looks like she has something more to say, but Minseok keeps going, “Have you met Hongjoong?” 

“Oh,” You start. 

“He’s a nice guy,” He continues, “you’d like his vibe, or at least, I think you would,” 

“Actually,” 

“I’m not sure if you know this or not, but it’s his voice that’s on a lot of the initial guide tracks we get,”

You do know that, but you nod and take a long sip of your drink, ice slipping down and connecting with your lip as you tip it back a little further. 

“He’s a bit eccentric,” Minseok continues. 

“Who’s a bit eccentric?” Seonghwa cuts in, stepping into the circle and cutting smoothly between you and Minseok, another drink for you ready in his hands. 

Minseok’s lips close. 

“Hi, Hwa,” You smile, “that for me?” 

“Of course,” He trades your nearly empty glass for the full one and leans in to press a fast kiss on your cheek, “you look beautiful,” 

“Stop,” You resist the urge to actually nudge him in front of too many people and give off the wrong idea about how close the two of you are, but you give him the best withering look you can. 

He ignores you though, “Who’s eccentric?” 

“Oh,” You do your best to keep the smile off your lips, “Minseok was just telling me about Hongjoong,” 

“Mm,” Seonghwa glances to the side at him, “is he?” 

“Artistic might be the right word,” Minseok corrects himself. 

“Well, that’s true,” You nod. 

“Oh,” Minseok blinks, “so you know him?” 

“Well, yes, I,” You start to say but Seonghwa cuts you off. 

“Speak of the devil,” He nods and when you turn you catch sight of Hongjoong heading right for you both. He’s dressed in the most decadent dark blue velvet suit you’ve ever seen, and the combination of that and his freshly dyed blue hair makes him look like more of an idol, not a producer. 

“My ears were burning,” Hongjoong says wryly, and then his eyes flick over you, “I love this,” 

“I thought you might,” You grin, moving forwards to greet him with a hug, “congratulations, Hongjoong, this is all beautiful,” 

“Thank you so much for coming,” He gives you a squeeze, “we keep missing each other for dinner,” 

“I know, I’ve been so busy lately,” You tell him, “but let’s plan something soon,” 

He nods and smiles and then turns his attention to the group, “Thank you all so much for coming,” he says. 

Minseok looks a little put out next to Seonghwa, and you hope you didn’t embarrass him, but he and everyone else greets Hongjoong and they loop through the congratulations on the finished album. Once pleasantries are done, he focuses his attention back on you, “I have someone I want you to meet,” he says. 

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” His hand settles on your back as he turns to the group, “can I steal these two for a bit?” He nods his head towards you and Seonghwa. 

He doesn’t really wait for permission, he’s just being polite, and he steers you out of the circle and starts walking you back through the crowd closer to the stage area. 

“When did you get in?” Hongjoong asks Seonghwa as you walk. 

“This morning,” He says, “we were supposed to land last night but our flight was so delayed leaving LA,” 

“Thank you for coming anyways,” Hongjoong smiles, “I’m sure you’re exhausted,” 

“It’s fine,” He shrugs it off, “we’ll get back on timezone soon, I’m sure,” 

“Flight was okay otherwise?” You ask, but Seonghwa catches your eye and gives you a knowing smile. 

“Mhm,” He nods, “We’re all home safe and sound, I’m sure everyone else is here somewhere,” 

“Good,” Your throat feels tight, the idea that around one of these corners you’ll find Yunho and Mingi, “that’s good,” 

After three months without any contact, you’re going to have to physically restrain yourself from blurting out how you feel the second you see them. The last time they saw you was awkward at best, and considering the way you left things after the fight, the quickest way to confuse them would be to tell them you want them back with no apology, no preamble. But either way the words still form on your tongue in your imagination, and you’re mid internal monologue when Hongjoong stops walking and brings you back to reality. 

“y/n,” He says, gesturing to the couple across from you, “Seonghwa, I’d like you to meet Choi Jongho and his fiance Kim Eunji,” 

“Oh!” You can’t help the surprised sound that leaves you, “You’re the vocalist Hongjoong has told me so much about!”

Choi Jongho smiles politely, eyes flicking to Hongjoong, but then he nods, “That’s me,” 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” You dip your head in quick acknowledgement. 

“So, you’re y/n?” Eunji says before Jongho can finish out the polite greetings and confusion runs through you. 

She’s looking at you with warmth and kindness, and it’s not often that omegas meeting each other for the first time are quite so positive and open. You’re used to a little hesitation, especially when alphas are around, everyone becoming a little territorial in mixed company, but Eunji seems unphased. 

“I am,” You nod as your brain starts to catch up. 

“Hongjoong mentioned you,” She explains at your confused expression, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to say hello,” 

“He did?” 

“Sorry, let me explain,” She smiles, “my little sister is debuting with your company soon,” 

“Oh!” Your brows shoot up and you run through the girls you’ve worked with to realize the common surname, “you’re Jiwoo’s sister?” 

“Yes!” She nods excitedly, “We’re very proud of her,” 

“That’s so nice,” You smile, relaxed now that you understand her abrupt familiarity, “she’s a very good dancer,” 

Eunji beams. 

“She’ll be debuting as main dancer,” Seonghwa nods, “for good reason,” 

Jongho smiles, his hand sweeping a warm line up and down his wife’s back, “Jiwoo says you and the others have been very kind during their preparations,” 

“Well,” You nod, “they’re working very hard, and I’m sure debut must be scary enough, there’s no need to add extra pressure,” 

“It is,” Jongho hums knowingly, and you recall Hongjoong mentioning he was from another idol group that had disbanded. You wonder idly in the back of your mind how difficult it really was for him judging by the brief expression on his face. 

“Exactly,” Hongjoong offers, “I thought you’d all like to meet considering the mutual acquaintance,” 

“Absolutely,” You say, “it’s been lovely,” 

Eunji is about to say something more, but Seonghwa’s hand brushes your upper arm and he leans into your ear, “At the bar,” 

“What?” You glance up at him and he nods past Jongho and Eunji. Your eyes follow his.  

The air leaves your lungs, but you feel Seonghwa’s thumb brush a comforting line over your skin, “Go,” 

“Hwa,”

“If you’ll excuse us,” Seonghwa interrupts you and gives a dazzling smile to your party, “her partners just arrived and it’s been a few months with the tour,” 

You’ll have to have a word with him about his word choice later, you notice the way Hongjoong’s eyes widen, but Jongho and Eunji just nod with understanding. The bond between alphas and their omega isn’t something to be taken lightly, and they take a step back to clear your path. 

You recover just enough to leave with normal pleasantries, “Thank you, sorry to run,” 

“No, no, of course,” Jongho nods, “it was nice to meet you.” 

“If I ever drop by the studio to see Jiwoo,” Eunji adds, “I’ll make sure to say hello,” 

“That would be nice, I look forward to it,” Your body is all but screaming at you to move now. 

“Well,” Seonghwa pushes you forwards, “I’m sure we’ll see each other later on in the evening,” 

Hongjoong says something more but you don’t quite hear it, and suddenly you’re being propelled forwards. Seonghwa dips his head towards you ear, “Good luck, be braver than I would be,” 

And then you’re alone, surrounded by bodies but alone nevertheless. 

You’re not exactly prepared for how you’re going to feel when you see them again. It’s been months, and the first thought that strikes you is how much they’ve changed in such a short time. Mingi looks broader somehow, but his face looks a little thinner and more angular, like he’s lost weight from all the performances and training and travel. Yunho’s hair is a little longer, the back a shaggier against his neck, but intentionally so, and the cut of his jacket makes his shoulders look wider. You want to barrel into their chests and tug them as close to you as you can, but instead you take a steadying breath and just give yourself a second to drink them in. 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling at the way they stand side by side as they wait for their drinks at the bar, and butterflies ripple through you, but despite everything you felt while they were gone there’s no fear. You just missed them, really and truly missed them. 

You’re moving before you consciously think it through and you watch their eyes widen when they see you coming, but it only spurns you on faster until you’re all but crashing into their sides at the bar. 

“Hey,” You’re just so happy to see them you can’t get the grin off your face, “you’re back,” 

“We’re back,” Mingi nods, and you can see the hesitation in his face. 

“I’m,” A million words run through your mind, but you settle on the truth, “so happy to see you,” 

“You are?” Yunho’s brows go high. 

“Yeah,” You step a little closer, letting the words you’ve been holding finally roll off your tongue, “this isn’t the place to talk, but yes, I’m happy to see you, I missed you both.”

Mingi exhales heavily and his lips quirk up. 

Lowering your voice a little more, you hold Mingi’s gaze, “I got your letter,” 

Yunho’s head twists to the side, confusion all over his face as he looks to Mingi for clarity. 

“We should talk,” You want to reach out so badly, but you hold it back for now, “but I wanted you both to know I’m sorry too, and I’m really glad you’re home now,” 

“Me too,” Mingi nods. 

“Good,” You sigh, “that’s good,”

“Are we okay?” Mingi glances between both of you. 

“Yes,” You nod, “I still think we should talk, we left things badly before, but I thought a lot about everything and I don’t want things to be uncomfortable anymore.” 

In the background you hear the speakers cut off the ambient music, and someone taps on a microphone to check that it’s connected. You glance towards the stage and see someone preparing to introduce Hongjoong. 

“Should we go somewhere?” Yunho asks, “Now?” 

The man on stage clears his throat into the microphone. 

You shake your head, “Not tonight, I want to be here for Hongjoong,” 

“Of course,” He backtracks. 

You reach for him this time, resting your hand on his forearm, “But maybe later this week when you’re settled we can just clear the air. I have some things I want to tell you,” 

He swallows tightly, and you can feel that he’s a little nervous but he nods, “Sure,” 

“I just,” You step back and look between them both, “I didn’t want you to stress about coming back to the studio,” 

The relief is palpable between all three of you as Hongjoong takes the stage, and Mingi says, “For a second I was worried you weren’t going to be here,” 

“No, I was just running so late,” You admit. 

“You’ve been okay?” He asks. 

“I am,” You nod, “you both are?”

“Good,” Mingi says. 

“Tired,” Yunho shrugs, and you suppose you can see a little of that in his eyes. 

“Seonghwa said your flights were delayed,” 

“Something like ten hours,” He sighs. 

“Are you sure you’re okay to come back tomorrow already?” You press them, “You’ll be jet lagged,” 

“We’ll be fine,” Yunho smiles a little at your concern, “don’t worry,” 

There’s a pause, a bubbling lull between you, but you can’t keep yourself from saying it, “I really am so glad to see you,” 

“Me too,” Yunho says. 

Mingi nods, but then his eyes flick up and he gestures behind you, “Someone’s looking for you,” 

You check over your shoulder and see Wooyoung lingering nearby and when he catches your eyes he points to his glass and then to you, checking to see if you need another and giving you a smooth out if you need one. You shake your head and turn back to Yunho and Mingi, “I should go,” 

“Okay,” Mingi says. 

You think suddenly if you walk away without making a plan you’ll think of nothing else all night until you can’t sleep, “Saturday,” you blurt out, “are you free?” 

“Yeah,” Yunho says and Mingi nods. 

“Let’s get dinner,” You say it before you can panic and take it back, “you can tell me about tour and I can… I have things I want to tell you,” 

“Just say when and where,” Mingi says, “we’re there.” 

“Okay,” You sigh, “good, perfect,”

You can practically feel Wooyoung hovering at your back and you take a deep breath as you step away, but part of you wishes you could just take Yunho up on his offer to get out of here. 

“y/n,” Yunho smiles a little, stopping you in your tracks, “you look happy,” 

“I am happy,” You tell him honestly. 

“That’s good,” He breathes. 

“Saturday,” You nod, “I’ll catch you both up on Saturday,” 

You see a flicker of something in Mingi’s expression, but then he smiles, “Wouldn’t miss it,” 

You turn before you lose your nerve and run straight into Wooyoung carrying two full glasses of champagne. 

“Everything okay?” He asks, pushing a glass into your hands, some of the bubbling liquid spilling over the sides and over your fingers. 

“Good,” You assure him, tugging him away from the bar and towards the back wall where you can talk to him unobserved. 

“I wasn’t sure if you needed rescuing,” 

“I didn’t,” You tell him, “I was doing fine,” 

“Shit,” He grimaces, “did I fuck up your moment?” 

“No, no,” You shake your head, “we’re meeting on Saturday, I’m going to talk to them then,” 

Something’s a little hurried in his face though, his eyes glancing past you again and again, and you can feel that he’s not exactly present. 

“Woo,” You start but he locks his eyes with yours and cuts you off. 

“I think I just met the love of my life,” He stammers, “I might fucking faint,” 

“What?” You hush him, pressing him back into the wall behind you, “Are you serious?” 

“I’m not going to faint for real,” He swats your hands away, “but I don’t know, y/n, I can’t breathe. My fucking chest is tight,” 

“Holy shit,” You manage. 

“I know,” He nods, “I know,” 

“You’re not close to your heat are you?” You probe him, wondering if you need to make a break for San and Seonghwa. 

“No,” He shakes his head, laying a cool hand on his flushed cheeks, “it’s nothing like that,” 

You nod relieved, “Well, then what happened?” 

“Okay,” He takes a long steadying breath, “you see that guy on stage? The one to the left of Hongjoong?” 

“Choi Jongho?” Your voice spikes up and he shushes you frantically. 

“No, oh my god,” He waves his hand to get your volume down, “he’s engaged, y/n, no, the other one,” 

You look to the left of Jongho and take in the third man on stage. He’s the one who introduced Hongjoong, his voice low and velvety soft. He has long blonde hair that brushes his collar bones, the top half gathered into a messy but chic bun. You can tell from here he’s handsome, devastatingly so, with a cool expression and his lips parted just enough to make you wonder how he kisses. 

“Oh,” You nod, “got it,” 

“Exactly,” He runs a panicked hand through his own hair. 

“He’s an alpha?” You surmise, “Did you catch his scent or,” 

Wooyoung’s shaking his head frantically before he can finish his words, “He’s a beta,” 

You can’t control the surprise in your expression, Wooyoung’s only ever really gone for alphas. It makes sense, most omegas do, considering the hindbrain of it all, but Wooyoung’s looking about as wrecked as you’ve ever seen someone. 

On stage, Hongjoong gestures towards the two men on his left and you switch your focus from Wooyoung’s whining panic to the man addressing the crowd, “I have one more announcement to make tonight,” he says, “something that would not have been possible to announce without Choi Jongho. I don’t think I need to tell you what a talent he is and how lucky we are at KQ to have brought him on. We have a preview of something we’d like to share, once again, something I felt very creatively supported in by Kang Yeosang,”

“That’s him,” Wooyoung hisses next to your ear and you refocus, “Kang Yeosang,” 

“Shh!” You hush him, but by the time you can hear Hongjoong again, he’s moved on to announcing that he’s going to preview Jongho’s new single, and you roll your eyes to refocus on Wooyoung, “So who’s this guy?” 

“Creative director,” He explains quickly, “album art, concepts, the works.” 

“Damn,” You manage. 

“He’s so fucking smart, y/n, you have no idea,” He breathes. 

“So you actually talked to him?”

“Talked to him?” He laughs, “I had his cock down my throat like thirty minutes ago,” 

“Jesus Christ, Wooyoung, that’s too much information,” You smack his arm. 

He rolls his eyes and continues, “We bumped into each other in the hall, like physically bumped into each other. I spilled my drink all down his nice white shirt,” 

The shirt Yeosang is wearing is still crisp white, so you assume there’s more to this story before he even keeps going. 

“I felt like an idiot,” He admits, “pulled him into the bathroom and told him I could fix it right up with a little club soda,” 

“Okay,” 

“He barely said anything at first,” Wooyoung continues, “I was just rinsing his shirt out while he stood there half naked looking like Michalangelo or something,” 

“I don’t think Michaelangelo was very cut,” You smirk. 

“The statute,” He swats you, “you know the one, don’t fuck with me,” 

“Okay, fine, go on,” 

“Anyway,” He sighs, “I was just talking, keeping the conversation going, fucking babbling while I washed out his shirt and then before I knew it he had me pressed up against the mirror with his tongue down my throat,” 

“Wow,” 

“One thing led to another,” He blushes again, “and then we just talked while I finished drying his button down,” 

“Wow, again,” You breathe. 

“I know,” He breathes, “I’ve never felt like this,” 

“Okay,” You squeeze his hand, “but, Woo, this is a good thing,” 

“I know, but I’m kind of fucking terrified,” He admits, “is this how you felt?”

“Pretty much,” 

“It’s awful,” He admits. 

“Tell me about it,” 

The crowd around you starts clapping, the speeches are over, and the men on stage start to head down the side steps to rejoin the crowd as the single begins to play. Everyone in the room is listening attentively to the music except you and Wooyoung. 

“What are you going to do?” You ask him, your voice low. 

“Go home with him,” Wooyoung checks his watch and then presses his untouched glass of champagne into your hands, “I’ve got to go,”

“Whoa,” You shake your head, “are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

“I’m a big boy,” He rolls his eyes again. 

“Text me his number, and his address,” You insist, “and check in with me tomorrow. If you don’t, I’m calling Seonghwa and San.” 

“Oh my god, please don’t do that.” He grimaces, texting you Yeosang’s contact information anyways. 

“Don’t make me,” You tell him. 

“Fine,” 

“Have fun, please be safe,” You’d take his hand, but yours are full of champagne. You hope the genuineness of your expression gets your point across to him. 

“I will,” he promises, “and I’ll call you. We’ll talk all about Saturday too, I just,” 

“I get it,” You nod, “honestly, I do,” 

“Thank you,” His eyes soften, “and please, don’t tell San and Seonghwa. Not yet,” 

“I won’t,” You assure him, “just go, be happy,” 

“You too, okay?” He smiles, “Whatever it is, you do it. You deserve it after all this,” 

Your stomach warms at that, and you know he’s right, you just want to do this the right way for once. Over Wooyoung’s shoulder you see the blonde man in question smoothly cutting his way through the crowd, and you nod towards him, “Get out of here, I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” 

He’s gone without another word, just a rushed smile as he weaves his way towards Yeosang, a bright and beaming grin now on his face. He’s a goner, you can see it clear as day. A brief flickering question passes through your mind of how this might affect his dynamic with Seonghwa and San, but given the way your best friend is lit up from the inside it doesn’t even matter. If you deserve to be happy like that, so does he, however it happens. 

With Wooyoung gone, you take a moment to survey the room, but you can’t find your group anymore. You see people from KQ you recognize, but your normal BB Trippin group is nowhere in sight and Yunho and Mingi are no longer towering over everyone at the end of the bar. You listen to the rest of the new single, something soulful and rooted in R&B just like Hongjoong had described to you all those months ago. 

As you listen to the crooning love song, your mind loops through the encounter with Yunho and Mingi, of every microexpression and you get lost in your plans for Saturday yet again. How you’ll tell them you’re sorry, how you’re ready to move on and to be honest with one another. How much you still want them, that you might love them. 

You don’t know how long you’re standing there by the back wall, thoughts tumbling over what-ifs when you’re brought back to reality. 

“Tough night?” A voice makes you jump, a little more champagne dipping out of your glasses as you turn to the side. 

“Hey, Minseok,” You laugh a little, “you scared me,” 

“Sorry,” He smiles, begging off, “I just meant the two drinks, and you know, hiding in the corner,” 

“Oh,” You shake your head, “no, Wooyoung ran off and stuck me with his glass. Do you want?” You offer it to him. 

“Sure,” He nods, smoothly taking the glass from your hands. 

You take a quick sip from yours and clear your throat softly, “So, enjoying the party?” 

He nods, “It’s nice, but honestly I was just about to get out of here and call it a night,” 

“Me too,” You nod. You’d try to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but he’s been tied up all evening mingling, and without any of your friends in sight it seems as good a time as any to slip out. 

“Let me walk you out,” He offers, plucking the champagne from your fingertips and placing both glasses on one of the nearby side service tables. 

You probably would have finished it, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you, but you let it pass and nod, “Sure,” 

You’re not far from the door, and he organizes grabbing both of your checked jackets as he makes small talk, “Are you taking the train or,” 

“I’ll probably order a car,” You usually do when it’s late like this and you’ve had a few drinks despite the extra cost. 

“Me too,” He nods, passing your jacket over. 

You shrug it on and search for something to say, but Minseok isn’t as forthcoming and chatty as some of the other dancers, “Do you live closeby?” 

“More towards Itaewon,” He zips his jacket and gestures towards the exit doors that will lead you out onto the street. 

“Mm,” You nod, pushing through the doors. 

“You know, we could,” Minseok starts to say, but the minute you step aside you finally see some familiar faces. 

“There you are!” You smile, and your familiar group of dancers turns at your voice. 

Minseok says something else, but you don’t quite catch it and you spin to apologize quickly over your shoulder before rejoining your friends. 

“I thought you left,” San ushers you over to their group. 

“Good timing,” Seonghwa adds, “my car’s not far, you want a ride?” 

“Sure,” You nod, you’ll never turn down a less expensive rideshare. 

Yunho and Mingi are talking with Jaemin at the edge of the group, but you catch Mingi’s glancing eye and give him a smile. It’s impossible to just smooth over your last real conversation with them, but you’re trying to signal in every little way that you want to move past it, that his letter meant something. You’ll lay out the rest for them as soon as you get them alone. 

He smiles back, quickly catching that you’re about to leave and you can see that he wants to step away from the conversation he’s having about some missteps from the tour. 

“Have you seen Wooyoung?” San asks, bringing your attention back. 

“For a second,” You nod, but look away from quickly as you try to tell a vague white lie, “I think he already split,” 

He hums, but then Seonghwa gently taps your back, “Car,” 

“Oh, perfect,” You step with him and turn to the group, “goodnight everyone, see you in the morning!” 

Dahan and San both give quick, small waves. 

“Goodnight,” Mingi says, his conversation stuttering to a pause so he can address you, “see you,” 

“See you tomorrow,” Yunho adds, nodding. 

Your stomach feels like it might flutter right out of your body. 

“I’ll have him drop you first,” Seonghwa says as he helps you into the car, jogging to the opposite side to get in himself. 

As the car pulls away you feel lighter than you have in months, and seeing them again makes everything feel so much more sure. They’re real, they’re back, and they want to see you too. Everything else falls to the side, for once the path forwards is crystal clear. 

Reblog to kill it faster

We Know

Pairings: park seonghwa x fem reader x choi san

genres/content: action, agent au, mafia au? rivalry, leader bang chan, angry seonghwa, y/n is san's weakness lol

Warnings: profanity, violence, weapons, suggestive content!! please take care of yourselves <3

A/N: I am nervous about this one y'all 😳 I've never written something like this before, but it ended up being so fun! This is for my friends, @milfks and L, who had these wonderful ideas! Love you two lots <3

Synopsis: Tonight's mission is in your hands, and you're eager to prove that you're capable of handling it on your own. Unfortunately, your plans are interrupted a bit sooner than you expected.

***

"I've got eyes on him," you mumble, pretending to fix your diamond earring as you adjust your earpiece. Surveying from the platform of the mansion's grand staircase, your eyes follow a man in a black suit as he turns the corner and disappears down a far hallway.

Chan's sigh rings in your earpiece. "Be careful."

"I can handle myself. Trust me."

"I trust you, Y/N. You know that. It's everyone else that I don't trust. It's your first time unaccompanied," Chan says.

"Like I said, I can handle it. Besides, the boys are always out by themselves and they're just fine." If you could see Chan right now, you know he'd be pinching the bridge of his nose out of stress, holding back from giving you a lecture on why your situation is different from theirs. You know his concern is out of love, and he would blame himself if anything were ever to happen to you. But this is your chance to prove yourself. Tonight, you'll be participating in an auction to get your hands on the Cromer, a powerful artifact that can control time. It's been rumored that ATEEZ has their sights set on it as well, so Chan had you do as much research on them as possible. Unfortunately for you, they're quite good at covering their tracks and keeping their identities under wraps. You know only a few of their names and faces, so you'll need to be extra careful about your approach to this. 

The auction will begin in about an hour, and you'd rather not hear a lecture from Chan. "I'm going in," you whisper. Your black dress flatters your figure perfectly, and you're excited to show it off tonight. With a deep breath, you make your way down the staircase, your heels silent on the expensive red carpet.

Clusters of people stand together around the large space, sipping champagne and chatting amongst themselves. Many wives have separated into groups away from their husbands, who go on and on about their latest business ventures and investments. Understandable—how boring. You greet some people as you go, your charming smile in effect as their eyes land on you. One woman compliments your dress as you pass by, and you enthusiastically return her compliment, telling her that her own dress brings out her eyes. She blushes and tells you it's custom made, which basically means "my dress is worth twice as much as the average person's monthly paycheck." 

You continue to weave through the crowds and admittedly get a bit distracted, still thinking about the woman's compliment. As you turn into the hallway you witnessed your target disappear into, you bump straight into an oncoming person. A strong arm wraps around your waist before you can lose balance on your high heels. 

"Woah there, doll. Straying too far, are we?" A tall man with dark hair looks down at you, his eyebrows raised.

Park Seonghwa. Just the man you were looking for. 

"My apologies sir," you say quietly, feigning innocence and avoiding his eyes. His arm leaves your waist after steadying you. "I was wandering in hopes of finding a vacant room to lie down...I'm afraid I've had a bit too many drinks too early in the night." You stumble for dramatic effect, hoping he'll eat up your lies. "I have to sober up before the auction," you say, shaking your head. "Daddy will throw a fit if I spend all his money tonight."

The man looks amused. "Yeah? Better be careful, princess."

"I can handle myself," you say for the second time tonight, stepping closer to trace the pads of your manicured fingers over the fabric on his chest. He tilts your chin up gently, and you meet his intense gaze. He's breathtaking. Suddenly, you have an idea that seems much more fun than your previous plans.

Sorry Chan, you think as you press yourself against Seonghwa.

***

You didn't find anything of importance on Seonghwa's person, but you did manage to slip a tracking device into his suit pocket. Chan should be able to access his location any minute now.

You enter the auction room fifteen minutes before the event is scheduled to start, scanning the tables for your seat. It's dimly lit, a majority of the lighting coming from a screen behind the stage. You don't see Seonghwa seated anywhere yet.

"And what are the starting bids on you, lovely?" a low voice asks, breath tickling your ear. You turn to look at the owner of the voice, his strong facial features almost as striking as his neatly-styled red hair. He's practically undressing you with his eyes, and you can't say you hate it.

"Whatever you've got to offer, pretty boy," you reply sweetly. He smirks, pleased with himself as one of his hands finds your waist.

"My friend says you're not as innocent as you look."

"Pardon?" you ask. The man turns you around, your back against his broad chest as his free hand reaches up to your ear. Before you know it, your earpiece is on the ground in front of you, crushed beneath a polished designer shoe. Looking up, you see that the shoe belongs to none other than Park Seonghwa. Of course they're working together.

You freeze as something cold presses to the exposed small of your back. 

Fuck.

"One wrong move and you're done for, princess," the man with red hair says calmly, lowering himself back down to your ear. "Try to cause a scene and innocent people will pay the price."

You take a deep breath before nodding your head in submission. You slowly turn back around and watch as he returns his gun to his shoulder holster, his expensive blazer completely concealing it. No one around you sees the ordeal, too distracted and eager to spend their money. The man then puts his arm around your shoulders, leading you out of the auction room. Seonghwa follows close behind, making sure you aren't able to slip away. You have no idea if he is armed at this point in time.

You're led into a large meeting room at the very end of the upstairs corridor, the bright moonlight seeping through the open balcony doors and illuminating the glossy wooden table at the center of the room. You catch a glimpse of the pretty garden below the balcony before the man guiding you throws you to the floor. You can feel the bruises forming on your knees instantly.

You don't dare fight back yet—your training in hand-to-hand combat doesn't do shit when your opponents are armed with guns, of course. You would attempt it if he were alone, but with Seonghwa present and potentially armed, you'd rather feel the situation out. 

God, Chan will never let you out onto the field again. He's probably losing his mind now that you've lost contact with each other. Not to mention the fact that you were busted before you even had a chance to get what you came here for. The auction is going to start any minute, and now you're certain there are other ATEEZ members in the auction room that are ready to claim the Cromer instead of you.

You're angry with yourself for not being more prepared with your own weapon, but your favorite handgun unfortunately didn't fit under your dress of choice. You sigh to yourself. At least you look good in it. 

"Give it up, sweetheart. We know what's going on here," the man with red hair says. Seonghwa locks the door behind him before speaking.

"I saw your wolf tattoo, and I've seen only one other just like it. You're working with Bang Chan," he states, is emotions unreadable. 

No. You had forgotten to conceal your waist tattoo since your dress fully covers it. You hadn't expected to completely remove your dress tonight. Rookie mistake. You should expect everything. 

"All this over a tattoo?" You eye him, downplaying the situation.

"How brave of you to interfere with our operation by yourself," the other man comments, ignoring your previous sentence. "No back up here to save you, huh?" 

"Oh, you don't really believe she's here alone, do you, San?" Seonghwa asks. Choi San. You recognize that name. Seonghwa comes over to you, a completely different aura surrounding him now. He's intimidating, gripping your chin with much more force than he had earlier. "Be a good girl and tell us where your friends are, yeah? Don't make things difficult." A chill runs down your spine at his threat. 

"I'm not here with anyone," you state. It's the truth. Even though Chan had insisted he wait in his car nearby, you convinced him to stay and monitor operations from your base. If you don't make contact within the next hour or two, he'll know something is wrong and follow Seonghwa's location.

"Wrong answer, princess." He grips your hair harshly and you wince. "I have a hard time believing that they would put you in a situation like this without back up. Where are they?"

It's sweet of him to underestimate you, honestly. You got yourself into this situation, and you're sure as hell going to get yourself out. You're already halfway done formulating your escape plan. "I said they're not here," you answer again. He lets go of your hair with a hiss.

"It would pain me to ruin such a pretty face...I think we'll let the boss deal with you." 

The boss? Chan told you that no one knows the leader of ATEEZ—it's safe to assume that anyone who's seen him hasn't lived to tell the tale. You're not sure if he'll have any mercy at all to offer you. But maybe these two still have some in them.

"No, please!" you plead, your fists balled up as they rest on your thighs. "If I tell you where they are, will you go easy on me?" You let your head hang low, looking at the floor. San lowers himself in front of you and you find his eyes. You blink, letting a few tears slip down your cheeks. 

"Sure, doll face. We will." You look away from him to briefly meet eyes with Seonghwa. He still stands at full height, arms crossed as he looks down at you. Perhaps it's your tears making your vision blurry, but you swear his gaze softens at the sight of you. You look back to San, sniffling.

"You promise?"

Now, never ever would someone in their right mind trust a promise from someone like them. But you're not planning on following through with your own side of the promise, either. Two can play at this game. You would never jeopardize the safety of SKZ...you told Chan you could handle yourself and you meant it.

"Promise," San says. He's truly something else, radiating such strong and convincing charm. You would fall for his promise in a heartbeat if you didn't know who he really was.

As you slowly rise from your knees, San stands with you. "They made me do it," you confess, more tears spilling from your eyes and taking your favorite mascara with them. "They said they would kill me if I didn't," you whisper, looking away. 

"It's okay, doll," San says, coming closer to comfort you. You flinch before he touches you. "Just tell us where they are, okay? We'll help you." You bury yourself in his chest, your frame shaking in his arms as you cry quietly.

Your best performance yet, if you say so yourself.

After a long minute in his embrace, you begin to pull away. In the process, you grab the gun out of San's shoulder holster and hold the barrel to the center of his chest. He curses under his breath, raising his arms in defeat. You slowly step backwards, turning your aim to Seonghwa as a warning not to try anything, and then returning your aim to San. Seonghwa makes no attempt to grab for anything, so now you know for a fact that he is unarmed.

"I told you the first time that there's no one here with me." You smile. "But it's nice to discover that you both have a heart." 

"Tell Chan we said hi," Seonghwa replies, irritated. 

"Of course, it would be rude of me not to. It's truly been a pleasure, boys." You give Seonghwa a wink. "We'll meet again, right? Maybe you can introduce me to your boss next time."

You've backed up far enough to step onto the balcony, assessing the situation above and below. The garden below is deserted now that the auction has started, but it's a far drop to the ground. There is another balcony above you, but it seems a bit too high for you to escape to. You're trapped, so you're going to have to pull this off fast to avoid getting hurt. 

All you can hear is the sound of your own heartbeat as you throw the gun over the railing into the garden. If you slip up, they could get their hands on it again, and you cannot let that happen. You'll fight the real way if you must.

As soon as it leaves your hands, the men launch at you. You quickly dodge them, ducking under San's punch and managing to sweep Seonghwa's leg, knocking him to the ground. Now that they're both on the balcony, you run back inside, shutting the french doors and locking them behind you. You know it will barely do anything to set them back—they could easily break them down if they wanted to. Through the glass, you watch as San pulls Seonghwa off the ground and looks at you. He doesn't make an immediate effort to get inside.

Is he letting you go? 

You shouldn't wait around any longer to find out. You blow him a kiss before taking your exit out into the main hall. 

But after stepping out, you see why they let you go...

Who. (2/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 3

Yunho kept checking the file in his hands, reading over and over the same words not being able to register anything, his head was all over the place, between the tiredness, the stress and his broken heart, concentrating was proving to be impossible.

“Careful, Jeong. If you think any harder your head might catch on fire.” Said Lee Minho entering the doctor’s launch with an empty coffee mug.

“Piss off, Minho.” He didn't turn his eyes from the paper, determined to make it work no matter how much it took.

Minho’s eyes focused on the taller man in front of him, his skin was paler than normal, a slight blue tint covered it; his eyes were sunk in their sockets, dark purple bags underneath them; lips dry and crusty; he looked thinner, he looked sick. Yunho and Minho weren’t by any means close, they had spent the entire med school fighting for the top spot in their class; Jeong Yunho had proved to be a real pain in the ass, managing to balance school, work, friends and a fucking three-way relationship while Lee Minho could barely sleep and see his, now, husband.

“Not that I care, Jeong but, are you okay?” Said Minho, leaning against the countertop and waiting for the coffee to be done.

Yunho tossed the folder on the table, completely done. He pressed his fingers against his eyelids, trying to calm the blinding headache he had been carrying around his entire shift. “I don’t think it’s any of your business, Lee.”

The cat-eyed doctor shrugged, not wanting to dig any further, he tried. He took his mug and made a beeline straight to the door, but he couldn’t help but look back at his school rival, and what he saw shocked him a bit. His shoulders were slumped, and shaking, his face in between his hands, and small but heavy sobs left his mouth. A suffering Yunho was something he had never expected to see, and while he thought it would bring him joy, it just made him feel weird. He would have to ask Jisung what was going on, he was friends with Mingi, and he would have to know.

______________________________________________________________

Mingi was not doing any better at work. He fell asleep on his desk, barely paid attention at meetings, and was hostile to his co-workers and possible clients. Jongho was done with attitude, he had been patient, as much as he could, and he tried to understand the situation, but it was becoming too much.

“Mingi, I am begging you, please go home, you cannot continue like this. Get some sleep, eat and come back when you are better.” Jongho said as softly as possible, not wanting to trigger another fight with the dirty blonde lawyer in front of him.

“Jongho, I’m okay. I would rather just be working, there’s nothing to do at home anyways.”

“Mingi…” He was interrupted.

“Jongho, I won't repeat myself, leave me alone.” He turned his chair away from the younger lawyer.

That was it. He was done.

Jongho slammed his hand against the desk, startling Mingi, “Listen to me, Mingi, I get that you are sad, okay? I get it. But you cannot come here and act like a fucking dick and expect everyone to be okay with it. We tried to be nice and give you a couple of weeks to recover, but so far, we have lost two important clients because of your attitude and you pissed off three more. I’m sorry she left, but I highly doubt she would come back if she saw the mess you’ve become. Yelling at people, turning work in late, getting drunk, fighting with Yunho, do you think she wants that? Because I highly doubt it.” He jabbed his finger into Mingi’s chest. “Get. Your. Shit. Together.” And with that he left the office, slamming the door on his way out.

Mingi sighed, taking off his tie. He closed his eyes trying to calm down, but it seemed impossible. Anxiety had been tormenting him for almost a month now, and it didn’t seem like it would stop any time soon. He misses you. A lot. He just didn’t know how to function without that missing piece. Nothing was working right now, his head was always a mess, always going back to that night, trying to remember every moment he neglected you; he was trying to balance out his pain and stress to not mess up his relationship with Yunho as well; while also trying to balance out work as to not get fired, or at least not to piss off Jongho even more, but nothing is working. He misses you, and without you, nothing in him works.

______________________________________________________________

Chan was in the kitchen bar working; his heavy and expensive headphones sat on the top of his head while he was nodding along to the rhythm of his last track. He kept replaying it to try and figure out what was missing, what he could change or fix, but he just couldn’t concentrate. Flashbacks kept showing up in his head, replaying again and again, memories of his college days, memories of the time he fell in love with his now roommate and failed to do something about it.

It was the winter semester; the campus was covered in snow and everyone found refuge inside the library. Chan was planning to go there and work on a paper that was due that same night, but once he saw the amount of people inside the building, he decided he wouldn’t be able to work there. And just as he was about to leave, he saw Hongjoong sitting on a couch in the corner, next to him was something that made the producer’s mouth dry. A woman so beautiful his eyes couldn’t believe what they were seeing, his brain couldn’t comprehend what was happening, his feet moved on their own in that direction, he needed to talk to her, to know her name, to introduce himself. His friend got up as soon as he saw him, greeting him and introducing her. Y/n. That was her name, a name Chan would never be able to forget.

A friendship was established that day. You would start by hanging out with Hongjoong, going out to eat, watch a movie or to a party; but soon it became just the two of you. Hanging out at each other’s dorms, he showed you some of his music, and you showed him some of her stories; at first, he would walk you back to her room every night, but after some time you would stay over, “it’s easier” you said. One fateful night, Christopher finally made a move, giving you a quick peck on the lips while listening to your favourite artist’s latest album, the largest seconds of his life were right after, waiting for your reaction; you ended up fucking on top of his desk, pushing all his books, and cd’s to the floor.

That was the way the next months were spent, hanging out and finding any and every excuse to have sex, but never giving a title to what you were. Chan just assumed you weren’t ready for that kind of commitment, convincing himself he was fine with what you had, not admitting he was just too much of a coward to ask if you felt the same as him.

“I just don’t understand him, Jisung. One day he acts as if we were a couple, and the next he calls me his best friend. Friends don’t treat each other the way we do, friends don’t do what we do.”

“Maybe he isn’t ready for that kind of commitment, he would just rather stay as friends with benefits.” Jisung pat her on the back, trying to comfort her.

“But I don’t want to be just friends with benefits.” You pouted her lips.

“Hey, come on, don’t be sad. I'll tell you what, why don’t you come with me to Wooyoung’s party this Friday? You’ll have fun and forget, at least for a bit, about Chan.”

Christopher’s first mistake was introducing you to Jisung. The second one was allowing you to befriend him. And his last, but most fatal one was not going to that party. Why? Because Yunho and Mingi were there.

“Y/n, this my friend Mingi. Mingi, this is Y/n.” And just like that, it was over before it could even begin. That same night Mingi had introduced you to Yunho, and they both were heads over heels for you, they asked you to hang out the very next day and while at first you were confused as to how it would work, they won you over, pushing completely out the idea of Chan off your head.

He remembered the first time you talked about them, he thought you had just made out with one of them at the party, and while he wasn’t exactly happy about it, he could let it slide, no idea of what was about to come. Texts left unanswered; calls that went to voicemail; and long nights waiting for you to show up, but at some point, it became clear, that you were not just sleeping around with them, you were in love. That very same night he went out and got drunk out of his mind, only being able to get back home after Changbin and Minho found him trashed on a bench in front of their building. He blamed himself, if he hadn’t been so scared, if he had just tried, you would be his, and he promised himself that if that door ever opened again, he would be there. But as time went on, it became more apparent that would never happen… until now.

He kept repeating over and over to himself that you weren’t ready, that you still love them and that you were still mourning that relationship, but he couldn’t help himself, he wanted you.

The last month he had been in some kind of hell in heaven. When you first had shown up, he was pissed off beyond comprehension, how could they let this happen? How could they treat you like that? He had spent every second of his existence since he met you, loving and worshipping the ground you walk on and they had let you slip away? Unbelievable. But he couldn’t help but see the perks of all of this. He was the one to console you, to build you back up, and through the course of the weeks, you were better.

He would come back home to you cooking, greeting him the second he went in; you telling him about your day or a new show you were watching; you showed him your work and asked his opinion. Everything went back to how it was; it was even better. This is what he had been missing out all this time?

“Good morning, Channie.”

“Welcome back, Chan. I made some spaghetti; I hope you like it.”

“Hey, Chan. How was work?”

Oh, blissful domesticity. But everything was too good to be true. They would show up in the most subtle ways, in the middle of a conversation, in the notifications of your phone, even in the clothes you wore, they still smell like them; your ex-boyfriends were everywhere in his apartment, tormenting him. And, of course, he wasn’t blind, he could see it, your face still showed how heartbroken you were, and he could also hear it at night, small sobs escaped your mouth, whispering their names again and again.

Yunho…

Mingi…

Never his name.

______________________________________________________________

Jisung had just arrived home, his hands full of grocery bags balancing them while trying to open the door, and just as he was about to spill everything on the ground, a soft hand came to his rescue.

“Jesus, Sungie be careful.” The person behind him giggled.

“Y/n?” His eyebrows furrowed, confused, but he still leaned in and hugged you. “What are you doing here? How did you get in the building?”

“Oh, I live here now.”

“Mingi gave up his rent control apartment? Is he crazy?”

“Um… not exactly.” You scratched the back of your head.

“Okay, come inside and tell me what’s going on.”

…

“And that’s how I ended up living with Chan.” You took a small sip of the hot chocolate Jisung had prepared.

“Have you talked to them?”

You shook your head.

Jisung’s arms were folded against his chest, his eyes looking directly at yours, not sure what to say, “So it’s over between you and them?”

“I don’t know, Hannie. I love them, so much it hurts, but I don't think they feel the same way, they act as if I'm not even there, as if I'm not important to them.” You lay down on the kitchen table, controlling your breathing so you won't start crying.

“Well, that’s just not true.” He put his hand on top of your head, petting you, “Mingi can be an idiot sometimes and the same goes for Yunho, but they love you, baby. From the very first moment they met you, they have loved you, maybe they just lost their tracks for a moment, but they will come back to you.” He kissed you on the forehead, “and if for some reason they don’t, I will be there to help you pick up the pieces.”

______________________________________________________________

Minho arrived late at night, completely done with work and with stubborn patients who thought they knew more than him because they read an article on the internet. Jisung ran to the front door as soon as he heard the jiggling of the keys, ready to receive his grumpy husband. He accompanied him into the kitchen, where he served him a hot plate of his favourite food and told him about this day.

“I found the chips you like on sale so I bought a couple, I also bought the ingredients I was missing for that ramen you want to try, oh and I tried that juice I’ve been craving, but it wasn’t that good.” Minho couldn’t keep up with the number of things that came out of his husband’s mouth, but he was happy to listen. “Oh, oh my god I almost forgot, guess who I ran into?”

“Who?” He said while shoving a spoonful of soup into his mouth.

“Y/n, she broke up with Mingi and Yunho, and she’s staying with Chan.”

Minho choked, coughing aggressively, not believing the words that came out of Jisung’s mouth. Everything made sense now, that’s why the puppy-like doctor had been so miserable the last couple of weeks. And why Chan had been avoiding him lately. He got up and headed towards the door, “Give me a second, love I’ll be right back.”

He made his way down the hall, he was in no mood to do this, but it had to be done. He had witnessed first-hand how completely devastated had Chan been after you had broken his heart (not that he thinks you did it on purpose), how hard it was to get him to shower, to go to work, how long it took him to go back to normal, and he feared it would happen again. He pounded on the door, not caring if the neighbours next door complained. The door opened harshly, a sleep-deprived Christopher on the door side, looking at him as if he had grown to heads.

“Min, it’s two in the morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

The doctor grabbed him by the arm and shoved him into the wall next to the door, “You are going to explain to me exactly what you think you are doing.”

“I'm not doing anything. She’s my friend, I want to help her move…”

He interrupted, “What? Move on? Were you planning to be her saviour so she would fall in love with you? Bang Chan, she’s been engaged to them for almost a year now, they are just going through a rough patch…”

“They broke up.”

“They will get back together, it's more than obvious, they are in love.” He whispered yelling, he was worried, did Chan think he had a chance?

“They neglected her, Minho they took her for granted, I would…”

“Chan, listen to me, she’s not in love with you, whatever you two had it's over, it's been over for years, for Christ's sake.” He shook his shoulders, trying to get some sense into him.

“I know what I'm doing.”

“You clearly, don’t.” He pushed his friend back into his apartment and went back to his. His entire body ached, but anxiety filled his head, not letting him rest.

______________________________________________________________

“So, she finally dumped your ass, good for her honestly,” Minho said as he entered Yunho’s office. The latter one looked up at him, the look in his eyes completely dead. “Geez, you look like shit.”

“What do you want, Minho? I'm busy, I don’t have time for your bullshit.”

“I know where she is.”

“What?” Yunho looked at him with wide-open eyes. “Don’t you fucking dare lie to me about this.” He got up and grabbed Lee by the collar and shook him, “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Because I saw her.” Little white lie, but he technically did know where she was. He pushed him back, “I don’t like you, Yunho, at all. But I know what it's like to be in your shoes, so I’ll make you a deal, you get your shit together and I might just tell you where she is.”

______________________________________________________________

Yunho’s hands kept trembling, he had barely been able to drive home without crashing. He wanted to scream, to cry, to tell Mingi what Minho had told him, all at the same time, but he also thought, what would he say? How could he apologize? Would she take them back? He went into the house, Mingi was lying on the couch, a book in his hands and glasses sitting on his face, his eyebags and skin tone resembling his boyfriend’s, he turned to look at him, noticing how fidgety and dishevelled he looked.

“Are you okay? Did something happen at work?” He got up and approached Yunho, he grabbed his face in his hands and caressed his cheeks.

“Um…” he bit off some of the skin in his lip, not knowing how to deliver the news, his head couldn’t put the words together, not even able to process them. “Minho told me something today.”

“Ugh, that asshole. I don’t know how Jisung married that guy, he's such a nice guy and Minho is so…”

Yunho interrupted him, not able to hold it in any longer, “Minho says he knows where Y/n is staying.”

Mingi felt how the air left his body, all thoughts abandoning his mind in the same way, tears were quick to rush to his eyes, “What?”

“Yeah, he saw her and knows where she’s been staying.” He paused to order his next words, “And he said he will tell me if we manage to get our shit together.”

Mingi took him into his arms and squeezed him till he was out of breath, not being able to contain his happiness. Together they cried and smiled while the thought of everything going back to normal filled them, that was until something crossed their minds at the same time, would you even want them back?

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@tunaasan @scuzmunkie