LOST IN STEREO

LOST IN STEREO

18+ / mdi

summary: after kicking you out of your own band to seek success with the band on his own, vernon finds his plans falling through, all the while you'd reached success on your own. now leading your own label, vernon finds himself having to earn your forgiveness, not realizing how badly he'd hurt you years back.

content: friends2enemies2lovers!vernon, band!au, drummer!vernon, guitarist!reader, unrequited crush (kinda), pining, vernon kicks you out of your band bc ur a girl (asshole, ik), really incorrect music industry terminology (i know nothing about music oops), afab reader, reader becomes a producer after being kicked from vernon's band, seokmin, chan, hannie and kwannie are in the band, smut, penetrative sex, dry humping, fingering, etc.

wc: 8.8k

a/n: i know the summary and content are all over the place, but i promise the story in itself is coherent</3

masterlist | kofi/patreon

"Fuck! Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?"

He winced at the sudden sight of you upon turning a corner in the huge building he was currently exploring, never having expected to bump into you there.

"I work here, Vernon. I would've expected you to do some research on the labels you're auditioning for."

"W-wait. What do you mean you work here?"

"I'm a producer here. What? Surprised?"

"N-no!" he spluttered.

Fuck, you looked good. No, scratch that. You looked beautiful beyond belief.

How long had it been? Three? Four years?

He still felt horribly about it. You know, that whole situation in which he threw you under the bus for his own benefit – only for everything to come crashing down on him immediately after. Not only did he feel like an asshole, but also like a huge idiot. Letting go of a friendship just for a failed attempt at success would go down as the dumbest thing Vernon ever engaged in.

In his defense, he was a teenager at the time. Okay, maybe he was freshly 19, but it felt like the same thing back then. He had been an idiot who dumped his best friend and crush just for a chance in the music industry. What he had thought that to be the smartest move to make for the future of your shared band ended up becoming his greatest mistake. To this day, he still thought back on it with shame.

What sucked the most was how talented he knew you were. That, and the knowledge that he had been the sole person to blame for taking this opportunity away from you – from taking your own band away from you.

He quickly came to realize that it had been a horrible mistake, but it was too late by then. Contractually speaking, you had never really existed within the group. Your friendship had also crumbled soon after, despite your reassurance that all you wanted was the best for the band, even if that meant they'd continue on without you.

At the time, you had been the band's sole music producer, and song writer, and engineer, and you were the one who had a macbook with garage band on it, and–

"Vernon!"

Fuck. Had he been in his head this whole time?

You looked annoyed. Also way more grown and mature than when he last saw you at 19 years old. Fuck, did he mention you looked insanely hot?

"Sorry, I, uh, as I was saying," he cleared his throat, "Of course I'm not surprised. You're the most talented person I've ever known."

And Vernon truly meant his words. As teenagers, your dream to become a successful guitarist had been what inspired him to dust off his drums and go on this adventure with you, employing a few of your other friends to join your wannabe pop-punk band.

You weren't just a dreamer, like Vernon. Vernon knew you weren't just all talk. If anyone could walk the walk, it was you. With your innate ability with not only the guitar, but a myriad of other instruments, Vernon always admired you for your natural talent with music. The insane confidence you carried also did not help matters. It sure did not help the irrevocable crush he'd had on you since he met you. The air of security you always carried with you was something Vernon looked up to and was insanely attracted to. Sometimes it'd make it difficult to be around you without revealing his crush, as he would constantly swoon over your mere presence.

His feelings for you not only as a childhood friend, but also as his unrequited crush, only made the whole situation worse. At first, he dumbly thought that you understood why he had to ask you to leave the band, but it was obvious to him within only a few weeks that what his decision had done irreparable damage to your friendship.

Thinking back to it, he realized how stupid it was for him to even consider joining a label that denied your entrance simply due to your gender. Attempting to create the image the label had wanted to force on them should've been the first red flag. Taking Vernon aside to talk him into kicking you out should've been more than enough for Vernon to break out and whisk you away from a label that clearly didn't deserve you.

Sadly, Vernon had been too invested in making it big at the time. He truly would've given anything to find success as a musician as soon as possible – and apparently you should've taken those words literally.

It had been about a year since you first started the band at that point. Your very low budget garage band consisted of you, Vernon, and a few of your friends. Vernon was on drums, you on guitar, Hannie was bass, Kwan main vocals, Seokmin keyboard, and Chan second guitar. It was the perfect setup, if Vernon had anything to say about it.

The entire composition of the band had been yet another thing that formed all thanks to you. As much as Vernon insisted on saying it had been a shared effort, he now knew better. He needed to give credit where it was due. If it wasn't for you, Vernon never even would've met the guys he now considered his best friends, as you had been the one to take charge of recruiting more members into the group.

Despite that, you allowed Vernon to have the role of co-leader in the band with you. The way you had rationalized it was that you didn't believe in a monarchy; you much more wanted to have a democracy, so you believed that being co-leaders beat a singular leader by far.

This also demonstrated the intense trust you had on Vernon. Except Vernon's greedy mentality at the time did not respect this vision.

Surprisingly, even to his younger self, it didn't take much convincing for the recruiting manager of the label to convince Vernon into kicking you out. Just one signature from him, and all the male members of the group would be secure under a semi-established label that would guarantee them the exposure he'd been wanting, oh so badly, for the past year of being in the band. All he thought of was his future success, completely ignoring that his best friend would be left behind in the process. Simultaneously, he ignored the protests of his members, believing this to be for the greater good for the band.

In your usual supportive fashion, you were a trooper through it all. Your initial reaction was one of confusion and hurt, but it was quickly wiped away under the facade of being happy for your friends. If you couldn't find success with them, you were glad they'd be able to make it big without you.

Vernon made the mistake of believing these words, not realizing that he had just broken all your trust, and along with it your heart.

Then came the other end of the stick.

To no one's surprise, the record deal fell through. Kicking you out before agreeing to sign the group should've made alarms go off in Vernon's head on its own, but everything that came after was somehow worse.

The label had attempted to poke at every single detail about the band, trying to form them into something they could never see themselves becoming. Their looks changed, their sound changed, and fuck, Vernon just could not stop thinking about you throughout it all.

Before it all completely fell apart, they had been able to perform a few shows. Though they were nothing too big, they were far more than the small pubs in which you guys had performed before sighing the contract. Vernon was completely unable to enjoy any of this, though. The blank space on stage kept his mind uneasy. He constantly wondered about you and reminisced about your beginnings together.

This arrangement only lasted a few months. That was when everything truly went to hell. With lack of cooperation both from him and the rest of the guys, it wasn't too hard to get the label to drop them.

It just wasn't a match. Vernon would be the first to admit that greed got the best of him. Taking the very first signing offer that they got had been too naive of him, leading the band to be labeless and without a lead guitar and female vocal. And also leaving Vernon without a best friend.

A few years were spent attempting to break out once more, only achieving certain virality online through the first year of trying. It wasn't until recent times that Vernon and his band really blew up through some original work of Vernon's they had posted online. That's what actually led to Vernon's current position – touring one of the best labels for people in his genre after having established a solid fanbase online as an independent band.

Since Vernon had lost contact with you soon after kicking you out of the band, he eventually gave up on finding you (though memories of you would still haunt him). Not having kept up with your individual career, he never knew you actually made it out and into the big leagues on your own. You being a renown producer under an artistic name made sense to him, though. It explained why he had not heard of your name during all that time, and it also made sense with your past experience making music when you were in the band. Hell, you were the one who taught Vernon everything he knew about producing.

Despite being incredibly glad that his mistake hadn't made you lose your love for music, Vernon still felt disheartened at seeing you. In another life, the two of you would've made it here together, hand by hand and as the best friends you'd always been (hopefully even more by now). But now you were here, successful but at completely different rates, and with you feeling clear disdain towards Vernon's mere existence.

You simply scoffed at his compliment, rolling your eyes.

"I don't need your praise, Vernon."

Well, it seemed like he couldn't really win regardless. It also didn't help that he felt like a total loser standing in front of you, now aware that you had made a name for yourself.

He had heard your artistic name before, but since you apparently stuck to being a producer rather than be on stage, he never put a face to the name.

"I, uh, are you one of the producers we're auditioning for?"

"Yeah. Good luck with that, Vernon," you seemed far too pleased with yourself. There was venom in your eyes Vernon had never seen before in all those years he knew you.

"Listen, I-"

"Whatever you're going to say about our past, you can save it. Nothing you can say can make up for what happened. I won't get in your way during your meeting with the label. Only because I still love the rest of the guys," you softened a bit, before getting that serious look in your eye again, "But I also won't do you any favors."

Gulping, he responded, "Yeah, I, uh, okay. I understand."

Without any further comments, you bumped into his shoulder as you walked away, leaving a breathless Vernon behind.

He was well aware that you hated him, and with good reason too. Yet he couldn't help the rapid beating of his heart throughout every second of your interaction. With the passing of years, he had thought he was fully over his crush, but it all just came crashing down on him all at once upon your first meeting.

Now he really needed to get into this label. Not only for his career, but to somehow get you back.

"Dude! Did you see Y/N? She stopped by the studio earlier to say hi. Man, I told you you shouldn't have gone off on your own. I can't believe you missed her."

As much as Vernon wished Seokmin had been right about Vernon missing you altogether, he did wish your first encounter with him had been around other witnesses. Maybe that way your words to him would've had a little less venom in them.

"Nope. Bumped into her in the hallway while I was looking around."

"Shit ...", said Chan, "How was it?"

"Brutal. She hates my ass."

"Completely understandable, you know, considering," chimed in Seungkwan, sitting on the couch of the conference room's waiting room.

After a short tour of the building the label was homed in, the group was directed to wait in the waiting room as the execs arranged the paperwork necessary to sign them – should they come to an agreement. Vernon had made the dumb mistake of asking if he could explore the place a bit on his own, never having imagined he'd bump into you on the way. At least now he knew you'd be one of the higher ups waiting for him on the other side of that door.

"Dude, stop. I've been feeling like a dick ever since it happened", Vernon groaned into his hands, suddenly snapping up to look to his members, "Did you guys know she was working here? Did you know she was the Hissfit?"

"We didn't really keep contact," Seokmin shook his head.

"Yeah. I knew of Hissfit, but I never would've guessed it was her. Damn, that's kinda hot of her," said Jeonghan.

Jeonghan's comment peeved off Vernon a bit, but he had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

"Do you think she hates all of us, or is it just me-"

They all varied in their response, but the consensus was that Vernon was the only member you still saw with venom in your eyes.

"Yeah, man. It's just you," confirmed Chan, "I thought she'd hate me for taking over lead guitar after she left, but she was pretty nice to me just now."

Vernon was about to air out his endless concerns and frustrations at the stupid acts of his 19-year-old self, but had to close his mouth back up when the door to the conference room suddenly opened, revealing you and two other men close to your age.

"Come on in, guys," said one with shaggy hair and a strong build, gesturing at the boys to come in.

All five of them took a seat on one side of the gigantic table that took up most of the space in the room while you and the two men took a seat on the opposite side.

You looked so put together and professional, looking over the papers sitting in front of you while Vernon stared and stared, hoping you'd look his way.

"Okay, first of all, I wanna welcome you guys. I know one of our producers, Soonyoung, already gave you guys a quick tour of the place, but I wanted to give you a formal welcome," began the taller guy of the two, "My name is Seungcheol, but you probably know me as S.Coups."

"I'm Jihoon, but you must know me as Woozi," said the shaggy-haired man.

Then it was your turn.

"I'm Y/N. Also known as Hissfit."

Vernon winced when all his members woo'd at you, dapping you up with all confidence in the world despite not having kept in contact with you for the past few years. He wanted to join in, but you seemed too genuinely appreciative of it for him to want to dampen your mood by reminding you of his existence.

"We are the owners and cofounders of Universe Factory Records," added Jihoon.

"We're well aware you guys know our friend Y/N here," Seungcheol patted your back, rubbing it afterwards in a soothing manner, – completely unnecessary in Vernon's eyes, but okay – "but for business' sake, we will put a pin on that at the moment."

"We don't want any good or bad blood getting in the way of business, so we thought it'd be best to not discuss those matters here today," continued Jihoon, "All we care about is giving a passionate group such as your own and opportunity to join us. I can speak for all three of us when I say that you truly fit the core message of our label, and we'd love to sign you."

You nodded along to it all, even holding Vernon's eyes in yours for a few seconds before looking away.

"We'd love that, Woozi-Nim," intercepted Seokmin, bowing his head a bit at Jihoon.

"We just have a few contractual points to get to and then we can get to business, okay?", Seungcheol clapped his hands decisively.

A few moments later, your HR guys, Jun and Minghao came in to oversee the contract with the eight of you, making sure both parties understood everything written on the fine print. This took about thirty minutes, but ended very amicably.

"Is there a leader to the group who'd like to speak for any modifications you'd like to make to the contract?", asked Seungcheol just moments before the papers were about to be signed by everyone present.

"No, we're more of a democracy," said Vernon, not realizing the irony of his words fast enough.

You scoffed loudly at that, giving Vernon a sarcastic smile.

"Are you sure about that? Any other member who can confirm this fact?", you turned to the rest of the members in mock curiosity.

"Y/N, I-"

"Sorry, it's my bad. I shouldn't have asked," Seungcheol chuckled awkwardly, gesturing to the papers once more, "You can all sign whenever you're ready."

With some hesitation, Vernon signed.

He knew it was the right decision. That this way he would not only get to live his dream with his best friends while being housed under such a successful label, but that he'd also get another chance with you.

It'd just take a lot of work.

One of Vernon's favorite parts about the contract with Universe Factory was the luxury dorms that came along with it.

Being housed in a penthouse with all his friends seemed like one of the most unachievable dreams, yet here he was.

And the best part was that you owned a penthouse of your own right upstairs.

As far as he understood, this was a business owned building, housing any artists who wished to live at close proximity to the label's main headquarters. Vernon's group chose to agree to this form of housing without a second doubt, having always had the dream of living in the capital of the music industry – Los Angeles.

It had been about a month since the signing, and Vernon had caught sights of you far more times than he would've thought thus far. Unfortunately, none of them had gone well for him.

You seemed to be more than happy rekindling your friendship with the rest of the members, but always refused to spend any time with Vernon one-on-one. If at any moment you were left alone with Vernon, you'd scoff and walk out, even if Vernon attempted to call you out on it.

And Vernon's crush only got worse with the time he spent with you (albeit it always was while other people were around). Seeing you so relaxed in your loungewear when you'd spontaneously stop by the dorms to see Jeonghan or Chan (or literally anyone but him) as you laughed and joked around with them was messing with Vernon's head.

You were just so pretty and perfect and put together.

There came a point where Vernon was quite loud about his crush, constantly whining to his members about how much you still hated him. You were the only person to be unaware of it. Hell, even Jihoon and Seungcheol knew, always giving Vernon looks when he'd stare at you a little too long.

Except you never looked his way.

The only times you ever looked at Vernon were to curse him out or blatantly distance yourself from him whenever you got fed up of his presence.

Even now, as you huddled into a corner of the couch when the rest of the guys conveniently (re: at Vernon's request) left the two of you alone halfway through the movie you'd all been watching.

Attempting to be as casual as possible (he wasn't), Vernon slid from sitting on the arm of the couch to try and scoot closer to you, eyes glued to the TV in fear of you leaving if he dared look your way.

"Vernon-"

"Wait! Don't leave! Just stay sitting. I- I won't bother you, okay?," he was quick to apologize, sensing that you'd either scold him or tell him to fuck off.

You nodded, expressionless as you turned your bead back to the TV again, seemingly not too bothered by him.

It was rare for you to not use his exasperation as a reason to tell him off, so Vernon went against his own words and spoke again.

"Will we ever talk again?"

"What?"

He sighed, turning to you, "Will things ever go back to normal? I- Is there any chance you'll ever forgive me?"

"I don't wanna talk about this with you," you went to get up, only to be stopped by Vernon as he got up also, lightly grabbing your arm.

"Please. You have no idea how much I've regretted it since then. At least let me apologize," he pleaded with you.

"It doesn't matter if you regret it, Vernon. You still did it."

Wincing, he tried to come up with an answer that might satisfy you, but the truth was that there was no way for him to reason his actions at that time.

"I'll never not regret it. I .. I wish you were still out there with us, not just producing behind the scenes."

"Vernon-"

"Do you ... do you still play?"

"What?", you appeared annoyed at his interest.

"Do you still play? At any shows? For fun? You were always the best guitarist I'd known. Chan's nothing compared to you," he joked.

You looked down in what seemed to be shyness, "Chan's pretty good. He's gotten so much better since I last saw him."

"It wasn't the same- It's not the same. You were supposed to be there. I love Channie, but the dynamic completely changed when you left- when you-"

"When you kicked me out," you corrected.

He took a few steps towards you, both hands encompassing your arms in order to get you to look at him.

"I kicked you out, and it was the worst mistake I'd ever made. I lost my bandmate and I lost my best friend. I miss you every day. Every time I perform and I look to the front and you're not there, I remember what an idiot I was. You made this. You made the band, you got all the members. Fuck, you taught Channie everything you knew and all I did to repay you was throw you away," his eyes never left yours as he spoke, despite how guilty he felt at seeing the sudden sadness in yours, "Please tell me you at least still play. Please tell me I didn't take that away from you."

"I ... After you kicked me out, I couldn't trust anyone else. If my own best friend was willing to get rid of me like that ... If all my friends stood by and did nothing, then I couldn't trust that someone else wouldn't do it again."

"Y/n, I-"

You stepped away from his hold, creating some distance.

"I didn't want to play anymore, so I started selling my music. That's how I met Jihoon And Seungcheol. They were already on the process of founding Universe Factory. They saw something in me and took me in. We were equals," you explained, "So, no. I haven't played since then, Vernon. I'm a producer now."

It made Vernon miserable to know that the girl he once knew had changed. He understood why, specially having been part of the cause, but he felt even more regretful at knowing that he had damaged your ability to trust so badly. Ever since he knew you, you loved nothing more than to play for people. From talent shows to small shows at local pubs with only twenty people in the audience, you'd always happily sign up if it meant a chance to play for anyone willing to listen. Now you didn't have that in you anymore. All because Vernon had broken your trust.

Vernon chose not to bother you anymore after that. You seemed happy with your new life. Vernon seemed to be the only source of negativity in your life, so he chose to step aside and let you live your life. He would no longer try and see if there was any space for him there anymore. If that's what made you happy, then so be it.

It had taken a while, but after four months of being signed into Universe Factory, Vernon's band had finally released their new album.

The rollout consisted of 12 original songs, with a deluxe version including three extra songs coming a few months later. It hadn't been fully fleshed out yet, but the album itself had been a success by all means.

Throughout the process, Vernon had unfortunately not made much progress with you. Things seemed to be a bit more peaceful now that he had decided to leave you alone, but you never once tried to seek him out, so he assumed that this was the end of it. You were happy to ignore him and keep him out of your life, and as much as Vernon wad pained by it, he felt too remorseful by his previous actions to try and bother you anymore.

Vernon was happy to spend time with you whenever studio sessions came up. As one of the main producers of the company, you had been thoroughly involved in the album, which meant that you spent a grand majority of your time in the studio with Vernon and the rest of the band. Though you would rarely engage with him directly, you didn't outwardly ignore him. You remained professional and respectful towards him. He wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

After the grueling process of finishing up the album and releasing it, there was a small lull in the group's timeline. The album did amazingly well, specially with all the promo your label did for them. A tour had even been announced for later in the year, but for now things were quiet. The fruits of their labor were paying off and now everyone got a bit of time to rest before preparations for tour began.

Despite being done with work for a few weeks before getting to rehearsals for tour, Vernon still liked to come around the company and play around with the studios the label had available for their artists. He liked to mess around and try to experiment with new stuff to develop his skills. During the album-making period, he had observed you intently, learning from you without your knowledge.

Today was one of the many times in which Vernon had decided to come around the studios, in search of the one his group used throughout the process of making their album.

That was when he noticed the half-closed door, with the soft strumming of a guitar coming from the inside. He was about to turn around and leave, assuming that someone else had taken up that studio for a bit, but then he heard a melodious voice accompanying the guitar in perfect harmony. It was you.

Even during the recording process, Vernon was yet to hear you sing or play any music. The demos were usually recorded by Jihoon, even when you had vast participation in them. The most he had heard your voice during that time had been when you'd direct the members on how to enunciate a line or two – and even then, Vernon felt enamored. Now here Vernon was, peeking from the small opening of the door as he witnessed you sing what seemed to be an original song.

Your back was facing him as you sat on the floor, simply facing the wall in front of you. Your voice was low, as was your strumming. It was likely you didn't want anyone to hear you. Almost as if you were hiding your skill, not wanting anyone to be aware of it.

Vernon couldn't help but think that this was the consequence of his actions. Did you think you weren't made to perform anymore? Not even in private? Had his betrayal caused this in you? The thought made him sick, knowing how much you loved music.

His thoughts were promptly interrupted by a sudden halt in your playing, hearing your voice speak up.

"I know you're there, Vernon," you said without even needing to turn around to face him.

"I- How did you-"

You began to get up, putting your guitar away, "I heard the door squeak a bit, and you're the only person who would be interested enough in hearing me play to stay and watch."

He knew you hadn't meant it in a self-deprecating way, but the thought of you believing that there wasn't a crowd of people who'd die to hear you perform felt like a punch in the gut.

"You still sound amazing. You got even better, somehow."

"Vernon, stop. You don't have to-"

"Please. Let me at least compliment you. I mean it. You're amazing. It's a huge disservice to the world that you're not out there performing your own music," he chuckled humorlessly by the end, attempting to appeal to you somehow.

Surprisingly to him, you chuckled back in a similar manner, choosing to recline against one of the tables in the room rather than leave now that Vernon was speaking to you – something you'd usually do if you were ever in a room alone with him.

"I've never been much of a soloist. You know that."

Taking a leap, Vernon chose to lean against the table too, taking a seat close to you.

"I'm sure people would be lining up for a chance to work with you, c'mon."

"Not, you, though. Right?"

He groaned, throwing his head back in frustration, "Listen ..."

"I'm kidding, Vernon, relax."

That surprised him. Maybe the time had allowed you to feel comfortable enough to tease Vernon about it. Fuck. You were speaking to him. That in itself was more progress than he'd had in years.

Usually, he would've responded with a joke back, but he decided to drive his point home instead.

"I'd kill for you to even consider playing with me again."

Your mood visibly shifted at that, squirming a bit and looking down at his words.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

This time your sarcasm didn't deter him. He had an opening. You were talking to him, after months of only doing polite small talk with him whenever you were forced to. Maybe it was time he was a bit stern too.

Standing up, he stood directly in front of you, towering over you a bit more than usual since you were leaning against the table.

"Listen. I know I hurt you. I know I did the worst thing I could've done to the person I loved most, okay? I think about it every day. I thought about it every single day after you cut me out of your life – which you had every right to do," he winced at the thought, "Seeing you again, knowing you made it big and that you're still making music made me so glad. So glad that even though I wasn't ever going to be part of your journey anymore, you still had music by your side. I ... I wish I had done things differently. I wish I hadn't acted so stupidly and been so easy to convince to leave you behind just for a taste of success. I deserve every bit of your hate for it, but- fuck ... but I will always keep doing everything I can to see if maybe one day you might forgive me."

"Vernon, I-"

"Wait, I'm not done," he interrupted you with a finger in the air, "I tried looking for you, you know? After you disappeared, I tried to get you back somehow. When we got dropped from the label just a few months later, I tried to find you, but you were nowhere. I wanted you back from the moment I made that stupid decision. I'd do anything for you to be up there with us on that tour, for your name to be on that album cover. Somehow we ended up making music together again, just with all this baggage in between."

"Vernon."

"What? I- Honestly I don't know what you could say to all my word vomit. I already know you hate me. Nothing I do will ever change it," he looked down with a sad look on his face.

"I don't ... I don't hate you."

His head snapped up to look at you.

"You- What?"

"I don't hate you," you repeated, "I don't think I ever did. I never left music completely, I just ... I felt so disposable. I didn't want to work with anyone who wasn't you, and you saw me as a replaceable asset. I didn't even feel like your friend at that point. I mean, it was so easy for Chan to go from second guitar to lead and just completely erase my existence from the band ... Erase it from your life."

"N-no. You have it all wrong," he got closer to you, grabbing onto your shoulders to make you look at him, "Nothing was ever the same. That's why it all failed. I couldn't function without you."

"Hah," your eyes wandered away from his in an avoidant manner, "I would've killed to hear that from you back then."

You took a breath, appearing to ponder whether or not to say your next statement, ultimately deciding on the former.

"I used to like you so much back then. Did you know?," you laughed at yourself, "It was, uh, one of the reasons why I left. I felt like I got rejected in every way. As a friend, as a bandmate, as ... as the girl who liked you."

Fuck.

It had been worse for you than Vernon ever imagined.

The same way he felt dejected at your disappearance, having been practically in love with you at the time, you must've felt that pain a hundred times over. The guy you liked threw you away so easily, of course you were going to assume Vernon would never return your feelings under those circumstances.

But you had it all wrong. Oh, so horribly wrong.

If you had ever given Vernon any indication of you liking him, he would've dropped everything for you. He knew that he should've done so regardless, specially considering you were best friends, but he was extremely immature and dumb at the time. His mind did not reason what effect his actions would have. At the time, your claims about being okay with leaving the band as long as it was for the best of its future were completely taken at face value by Vernon. Never would he have guessed that you had just said that to appease to him just because you liked him.

His prolonged silence allowed you to speak up once again.

"I really did want to try and root for you after you signed that contract, but seeing the guy I was so head over heels for throw me aside so easily settled on my mind after a few days. I realized there was no point either way. We would never be bandmates again, and you would never like me back."

"I didn't- I ... I had no idea. Fuck," he breathed a heavy breath, furrowing his eyebrows, "I was so in love with you. I'm ... I'm so incredibly in love with you."

He knew he fucked up in saying it, specially going by the shocked expression on your face. Your eyes were wide and your mouth agape.

"I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. I know this isn't what you want to hear. I- I shouldn't have said anything, but I can't help myself anymore. I've loved you for years. I've been miserable thinking about how badly you hate me when you haven't left my mind for a single day. I love you. I'm sorry, I just ... I love you."

"Vernon ..."

He threw his hands up in frustration, "Don't. Fuck, I already know what you're going to say, just ... just don't-"

"Vernon, shut up!", you grabbed onto his head, making him lower himself down to you a bit and look into your eyes.

Vernon wasn't quite sure what your original plan was, but he saw you open and close your mouth a few times to speak, ultimately giving up to do something that would break Vernon's mind for the upcoming future.

Your lips against his own was something he thought of an embarrassing amount of times during his teens (and even now during his 20's), but it was always something he was certain would never happen. He had never actually planned for what he would do if you ever actually granted his wish. And so he remained limp against you for a few moments too long, making you pull away at the lack of reciprocation.

This was something he just couldn't have. In no world could he ever allow you to ever feel like he didn't want you. Never again. Before you could fully pull away, his arms wrapped around your waist, bringing you to your tip toes so that he could kiss you properly. When your feet flattened on the ground, his lips chased after yours, leaning down to keep himself connected to you.

The kiss was soft and delicate. There were some breathy sighs that were making Vernon's head feel fuzzy, but the kiss was innocent otherwise.

Or at least that was how it started.

Vernon wasn't sure who licked their way into the other's mouth first, but that bit of information didn't matter too much. What mattered was that gorgeous moan you let out when his tongue suckled on yours. What mattered was the way you let your body become limp against his touch, letting him back you up against the table and sit you on it. What mattered were your hands pulling at his hair in sheer desperation for more.

You weren't the only culprit, though. Vernon was equally, if not more, desperate for you. His mind and his body were in a battle, with one wanting to pull away and discuss what your current feelings for him where, and the other fighting the urge to flip you around and bend you over the table.

Thankfully, you made the decision for him.

Your hands snuck under his shirt, delicate fingers gracing the skin of his stomach before allowing your hands to freely feel up his abs and chest. Shuddering, he became lightheaded at the simple contact, having been in such constant want for your touch all these years that even the simplest of contact had him losing his sanity. Unlike you, his hands were not as daring as yours in fear of scaring you away somehow. They remained rubbing your clothed waist and hips, far too shy to do what they really yearned to.

Images flashed in his head of every nasty thing he wanted to do to you. Every single night in which you'd somehow invade his mind with a fog of lust came running back, a myriad of ideas making it all the harder to hold back. He wanted you to have control. As hard as it was to just sit there and will his already prominent boner into staying still, Vernon could not act on any desire. You had to be the one to initiate it.

And thank fucking god you did.

Within some short moments, your hands threw off Vernon's shirt, pulling him closer to you as you became even more shameless in how you felt him up. Seeing his hands remain stagnant on your waist, you disconnected his lips, staring into his own with a blissed out look on your face.

Fuck.

You were already fucked up. Your eyes had nothing but lust in them. They had a hard time not making their way to his lips, which were still dangerously close to your own. He couldn't blame you. Despite being out of breath from kissing all this time, his own lips were already aching to encompass your own again.

Before he could kiss you again with a petulant whine, your hands guided his own to your clothed breasts, pressing them up against his palms with a delicious little whine that made Vernon press his cock against the table under you.

"Touch me? Feel me up? Fuck ... want your hands all over me," you breathed between sensual licks at his open mouth.

Fuck.

Oh, fuck.

How was he supposed to do this?

You sounded so pretty for him ... so horny and needy and just so fucking desperate for him.

You were the prettiest fucking thing he had ever seen – and you were begging for Vernon to feel you up? You were already begging and he hadn't even had the chance to actually touch you yet? Vernon had no idea how he was going to survive you, but he'd just have to will his body into doing so.

He didn't need any further instruction, his hands immediately following the task of rubbing and squeezing at every inch of skin. Every clothed curve was victim to his grabby hands, touching you and pressing you up against him like he'd die if he didn't. Your breathy little moans at his touch only made him feel like even more of a depraved animal.

You kissed and kissed and kissed. It was the nastiest mess of tongues and saliva, but Vernon couldn't help but feel extremely turned on by it. You were so ... so fucking desperate for him. Shameless in your actions, you licked and sucked at his tongue, holding his jaw in place so you could do as you pleased with his tongue. And when he couldn't match your pace due to how foggy his mind was? You stopped him, breathing against his lips that you'd show him how you liked to be kissed just before licking sensually into his mouth yet again.

Having been far too into the kiss, Vernon didn't even notice when you started undoing his belt, hands teasing his cock occasionally by gracing it through his pants and immediately coming back up when his hips tried to chase your touch.

"Baby ... Need you so bad," you moaned at him after a while.

'Baby'? He was 'baby' now?

Vernon couldn't even take a minute to process the lustful voice in which you had called him baby before his poor, weak, lust-ridden brain got distracted by you pulling your own shirt off.

It was almost comical the way in which Vernon froze at the sight. The two gorgeous mounds staring at him, pretty bralette encompassing them as you grabbed his hands and put them on your tits, begging him to touch you there. And Vernon wasn't an idiot. He touched you to his heart's contentment, groaning against your mouth every time you'd arch your back and press your chest up against his hands even more.

You were an entirely different version from the one he'd always known. You were so needy and soft and sensitive, completely unlike the stubborn and cold side of you you had shown him these past months. But Vernon wasn't about to complain when he had you so pliant for him, so whiny as you pleaded for him to touch you more.

His hands tugged and pinched at your nipples, lips swallowing every single cry of pleasure you let out. Your own hands scratched at his chest, with harsher marks being left behind every time he pinched at your tits relatively hard.

Growing easily frustrated, you separated his hands from your breasts, throwing off your bra before beginning to grind against him, encouraging him to push up his hips against your own.

Vernon was already painfully hard at just the privilege of feeling you up, so he was somewhat scared that he might end up cumming in his pants if you kept this up for so long. All it took was one single bump of your cunt against his cock for him to throw that concern aside and grind into your awaiting cunt as the two of you continued to kiss.

Breathless, he pulled away, finally getting to have a view of your nude breasts. That's when he lost control of himself.

He groaned and moaned and made every inhumane noise you could think of as he made love to your tits with his tongue. Never had he ever put so much dedication into anything as he did into making out with your tits. And fuck was it worth it. Your hips sped up against his own, hands burying in his hair as you pressed his head against your tit and cried his name in the prettiest of sighs.

There was no way in hell Vernon was going to last. He needed a saving grace.

Mustering all his willpower, Vernon disconnected himself from you completely, grabbing your hand and walking you over to the couch in the studio. On his way there, he kicked off his already loose pants and threw off his shoes. His original plan was to lay you down on it, crawl over you as he kissed every inch of your body and then worship his way into fucking you missionary, – so he could see and kiss you all throughout, just in the way he always imagined – but you stopped him in his tracks.

Pushing him onto the couch, you sat him down before shuffling your sweats off and straddling him, putting your hands on his shoulders.

"I wanna ride you. Can I?", you asked, getting straight to the point.

"You- you wanna .."

"I've been thinking about this since high school. And ... you kinda owe me, you know, after kicking me out of my own band," you joked.

"If letting you ride me is payback, then I take it back. I regret nothing," this granted him a frown and a slap on his chest, but he took it as a champ, enjoying the familiar banter he once shared with you.

Placing his large hands on your hips, he somehow got you even closer to him, "Ride me? Hmm, baby?", he kissed up your neck, taking advantage of the clear desire he knew you felt for him.

"I, ah ... Nonnie ... Please. Want your cock, it's so big," you sighed, neck tilting so he could have more space to kiss.

"Gotta prep you first, baby."

You shook your head, huffing, "'m already so wet, Nonnie. Wanna feel?"

With no warning, you snuck your hand under the tiny little excuse for panties you were wearing, gathering some tasty nectar for him to taste. He let out a gruttal groan at your taste, feeling lightheaded at the thought of someday having the privilege to eat your cunt until you begged and sobbed for him to stop.

But that would come some other day. Now, he needed to sit you down on his cock before he lost his mind. If you thought you were wet enough, and you were desperate enough to beg for him repeatedly, then who was he to deny you?

Helping you awkwardly remove your panties while he shoved his boxers down as much as he could while sitting, he helped you lift yourself up a bit to line him up, throwing his head back when you instead chose to drag his tip up and down your cunt.

"Baby ... If you don't sit on me, I'm going to fucking cum before I even get to feel you, and I don't wanna embarrass myself like that. So, please let me have it," he begged for a change, eyes squeezed shut as he attempted to make his body hold back as much as possible.

Taking pity on him (or likely just equally as horny), you finally sat down on him, showing very small signs of struggle at his size.

"F-fuck ... Nonnie, it's so big, it's so- Oh ... fuck."

"Nonnie! Feels so good ... Oh, it's so good, Nonnie."

"Baby, need more ... Need you to fuck me. Please? Cock's so fucking good."

"Want it in my mouth, Nonnie. It's so thick n so fucking big. Looks so, fuck, so delicious. Wanna choke on it so bad ..."

These were only some of the filthy expletives you cried out as you bounced on his cock like a depraved girl. You desire for him alone was enough to make Vernon want to give up and dedicate his body to your pleasure, knowing that your gorgeous body would always give him the same, if not more, pleasure in return.

It got so bad for him that at some point, he simply couldn't hold back anymore, his feet settling firmly on the ground before tightening his grip on your hips and beginning to bounce you up and down his cock while his hips canted up with inmensurable speed.

"Cunt's so tight, baby. Never letting you go again. 's all for me, right? Get to have you every day now," he mumbled against your chest, lips chasing your tits every now and then.

"Y-yes, Nonnie. All for you! Missed you so much, Nonnie. Thought of you every day," you hiccuped, back arching to give him better access to your tits, "I was so heartbroken over you ... Never letting you go now. You're mine. Right, Nonnie?"

He nodded and cried at your words, heartbroken just at the thought of your own heartbreak. He had to remind himself that none of that mattered anymore. Now he finally had you. The dam had finally broken and allowed the two of you to end your prolonged animosity and give you a chance to finally be his. Just how he had been yours all these years.

Your love making (if you could even call it that considering the animalistic nature of it) could only last so long before Vernon finally burst, which meant he had to take matters into his own hands and make sure you found your end with him. Reaching between you, his hand searched for your clit, finding it in only a few seconds. Disconnecting his head from your chest, he went back to kissing your neck, reaching your ear so he could talk you through your orgasm.

"Need you to cum for me, okay, baby? Love you so much ... Need to cum together, pretty, yeah?",

"L-love you! So much, Nonnie ... Never stopped."

Those were the last words you managed to let out before your orgasm took over you, whining the prettiest cries Vernon had ever heard. The tightening of your cunt finally allowed Vernon to let go, joining you in your high as neither of your hips halted their movements.

Holding you all throughout, Vernon had never felt as close to anyone else as he did to you in this moment. If you needed to hate him in order to protect yourself from his betrayal, then Vernon fully accepted it. No part of him blamed you for keeping him at an arm's length at all times. Specially if this was the final outcome. Now that he finally had you, he didn't care what journey he had to live through to get here. All he cared about was the gorgeous girl of his dreams crying in his arms as pleasure overtook her.

Your orgasms had been so incredibly intense that you needed some moments to catch your breaths before speaking up. That, and all the emotions that must've been going through your minds.

Holding each other despite the silence, you stayed like that for a few minutes, simply nuzzling against each other as a demonstration of love for one another. Vernon's mind still couldn't believe the reciprocation of your feelings. His heart was still beating far too loud under your touch, but he felt at ease.

"I really do love you," he spoke against your neck, "And I'll never stop regretting what I did to you."

You created a small distance between you to look at him, caressing his cheek in your hand as you spoke.

"I'll never be okay with what you did, but I love you. You were young, and you made a mistake. I can't stand hating you anymore."

He smiled, turning his head to kiss the palm you had against his cheek.

"You can hate me, as long as you love me too," he said. He knew it made no sense, but he also knew you understood.

"I love you," you said again with a smile.

"I love you."

to read short 2.3k word continuation you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!

content: smut, afab reader, comfort sex, face riding, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 714 (teaser); 2379 (full drabble)

sneak peak:

"Isn't it unprofessional for you to ask an ex member to join the band again just cause you're sleeping together?", asked Chan as he tuned his guitar absentmindedly.

"For the last time, that's not why I'm asking her. I've wanted her back for years, you guys know this. I'm just rectifying a mistake."

You giggled from your seat on the couch, enjoying that the guys still gave Vernon a hard time for what he had done all those years back.

The news of your relationship had come as a surprise only to a few people. Most of your friends had seen it coming from miles. The sexual tension was just too high, or at least that's what Jeonghan had said when you first broke the news, Seungkwan nodding in agreement.

After that day in the studio, you and Vernon entered an annoyingly disgusting honeymoon phase. Unfortunately for everyone else, this phase seemed to be endless. Two months in, and you were still attached to the hip, unable to keep your hands or eyes away from each other.

Your newfound revelation of love for Vernon also brought back up old dynamics between the two of you. With his encouragement, you began occasionally playing with the guys, sometimes joining in as second guitar on stage, standing at the back, right next to Vernon and his drums. Your relationship was a point of conversation for fans, but you still kept it private among the people in the company.

Currently, Vernon had made the executive decision that he wanted you to officially be featured in a remixed version of one of their most successful songs from their debut album. The plan had already been there, but Vernon's suggestion of having you on the track rather than anyone else had surprised some people at the company, especially when they found out you agreed.

Vernon had been incredibly busy all week, leaving this as the first time he'd been able to see all of you together to briefly discuss the future plans for the track. His plan was to make a quick stop and then finally rest in your arms back at your apartment.

"Anyways, you should never forget that she was lead guitar before you ever were. We could always just send you to the back again," interrupted Seungkwan, giving Chan an unserious yet pointed look.

Chan raised his hands in defense, "Hey! I'm not the one who kicked her out!"

Groaning, Vernon walked over to you and buried his face in your neck, tired features clear in his face as he wrapped his arms around your waist, "Make them stop. Please."

Giggling again, you opted for a better option, taking the clearly tired boy by the hand and leaving the studio, bidding your goodbyes to the guys.

You had only stopped by to say hi to your friends while on your way to your apartment, knowing Vernon was tired from a long day of recording for various other activities he had recently embarked in as a new face in the industry. They were already aware you'd be recording a song with them, but simply enjoyed giving Vernon a hard time. Maybe even more than you did.

On the ride home, Vernon had fallen asleep, absentmindedly cuddling against you on the back of the car. Vernon had naturally taken on the role of the main face of the group, which also came with endless work and promotions he sometimes had to do solo, just like today. You were more fortunate in that area, making most of your money off royalties and not needing to make public appearances at any point.

When you finally arrived home, you continued dragging Vernon along with you, who would only groan occasionally at the thought of even stepping foot into the elevator. Making it all the way to your suite had taken a while due to the size of the building, but when you made it, Vernon immediately threw off his shirt and stripped down to his boxers, letting himself fall face first into the bed, groaning at the mattress cushioning his fall.

You stared for a few moments, thinking of what you could do to help your tired boyfriend relax after a tiresome week of work. Then the idea suddenly came to you.

...

find 2.3k word continuation on either kofi or patreon!

Sit Down

anniversary event [closed]

kim mingyu x reader

prompt(s): getting aroused by the other's jealousy/obsession with them, "Could he/she/they do it like this?”, “you're sexy when you're angry”

word count: 5.1k

warnings: smut (MINORS DNI), fluff, potter!mingyu, they're married, reader discovers jealousy, oral (m.rec), penetration (unprotected!!!), kissing, breast play, clit stimulation, they're nasty as hell idk what to tell you

synopsis: It isn't your fault that you feel this way, especially as you watch her hands trace over your husband's own.

It isn't your fault that you can barely go on with your day with that cursed image replaying in your mind like a broken record.

And it certainly isn't your fault that you find yourself completely naked on your husband's lap while his clay-clad hands cannot touch you.

[a/n]: @highvern at the scene of the crime as always, we all have to thank her for her service as she betas for me and encourages my tomfoolery. enjoy this and let me know your thoughts in the rbs, comments or send me an ask!!!!!

masterlist

The grip you have on the file is proving to be detrimental to the cheap plastic covering. Not that you could blame yourself as you watch your husband through the window of his pottery studio, leaning over to help a student with her discombobulated salad bowl. 

It was a beautiful morning, the beach across from the boardwalk sparingly occupied with delighted tanners and swimmers, the low buzz of waves reaching the shore sending a calming draft across the area. Envious as you were of Mingyu and his impeccable real estate choices, especially right now as your heel clad feet ache to take a dip in the waters, you couldn’t help but feel all the more irked that this was the background the image inside the studio was sitting against. 

Through the large glass windows, Mingyu is pressing his foot over top of his very pretty student’s on the pedal to force the pottery wheel to spin, hands over her own as he guides her fingers to put pressure on the wet clay. A spiteful part of you pushes a thought in your mind, that your husband was attempting to fix a lost cause, especially when his student seemed quite insistent in her soft smiles and keeping her gaze on the fingers that cover her own, rather than actually fixing the abomination on the pottery wheel. 

You don’t know how long you’ve been standing there by the time he’s done, straightening his back to turn his attention to the other students that make their attempts at their half done projects. Mingyu catches your figure through the window and immediately breaks into a big smile, clay covered hand coming to wave at you. 

Taking it as your cue to walk into the studio, you return neither his gorgeous smile or his occupied wave as you strut through the glass doors. Your husband meets you on the other side of the open space, hands now washed clean as he leans over to place a kiss on your cheek. 

“Hey, you,” he says in greeting, hands drying on a towel. 

All you can think about is if that salad bowl girl can see you, and you thank goodness you wore your nice top today. 

“Here.” You merely push the slightly crumpled file of documents to his chest, jaw set and lips tight. 

“Oh, thanks,” he comments as he grabs the papers pushed towards him, smile dropping a little at your abrupt attitude. “Is everything alright?” 

“Hm? ‘Course,” you answer, adjust the strap of your bag. “I have to get back to work. Be careful about your paperwork next time, I can’t keep making trips across town for this.”

You bite your tongue as soon as you say it, the words tumbling out before you can help it. Can’t keep making trips across town for this? Last time you checked, you were looking for passive excuses to make the trip to your husband’s studio just to see him during the day. 

“Oh.” His brows are furrowed, the frown apparent on his face. “I–I didn’t think you’d be too busy today, you said you’d be done early so—I—nevermind. I’m sorry I pulled you out of work for this, I’ll be careful next time.”

There’s a pang in your heart as you hear him apologise, immediately mad at yourself for going on and ruining his mood. What were you annoyed at? That he was doing his job? 

Your gaze lands behind him where most of his students are occupied with their projects, but just one whose eyes dart between you and Mingyu. 

Taking a step back, you’re about to walk out before you feel him grab your wrist. “D’you wanna have dinner at the new restaurant down the pier after work? We can watch the sunset too, haven’t done that in a while.”

You want to scream yes. Of course you want to watch a beach sunset with your husband. Of course you want to eat at the restaurant you’ve been waiting eagerly for with your husband. And you aren’t entirely sure if this reaction is simply because you’ve been stressed lately, but the sticky feeling is pushing you to make your claim in some way, somehow. 

Biting back another strangely snarky reply, you make an attempt to fix your stoic face and walk back to Mingyu. Leaning up, you kiss the corner of his mouth in what you hope is slightly reassuring. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Kicking off your heels is the first thing you do once you make it back to your desk, taking no time to punch the power on button on your computer. You pull a file from the stack next to you, one that sits at the bottom, with a harder than necessary yank. Bad idea, because as you scramble to stop the pile from tipping over entirely, you can only think of other ways your day could get worse. 

Before the worst of it can hit the floor, you find a second set of hands catching the strewing papers. 

“Thanks, Han,” you say as you attempt to reorganise the documents, taking the extra ones off his hands. 

“Have the laws of physics forsaken you? Or do you just like reorganising paperwork?” Hansol asks, sipping on something from the stupid horse mug Mingyu had made for him in light of his promotion. 

Huffing, you only haphazardly stuff the files to the corner to be done with it, opening the file you need as your computer finally boots up. “Don’t you have manager stuff to do?” 

“Being a manager means I can put off doing manager stuff,” he states. “Besides, I’m taking care of my peers, can you imagine the catastrophe that could’ve been if I didn’t swoop in to save you?”

“Papers on the floor? How catastrophic indeed,” you monotone as you click away at trying to find a particular excel sheet. 

“How was Mingyu?”

Stiffening, you want to curse Hansol at reminding you of the very thing you did not want to think of right now. 

“He was fine.”

“You were back earlier than usual, thought you would’ve had lunch with him.”

That was your plan, but clearly the universe had other ways for you to go about your day. Like thinking about an overly flirty student and her all too oblivious teacher. 

“He…he had a workshop today,” you simply comment. 

“Okay, Elsa, who shoved an ice cube up your ass?” You can hear the sneer in his voice, the judgmental stare. 

Groaning loudly, you can only slam your forehead onto your desk in an all too dramatic fashion. “Can you drop it? Please?”

“Ah,” he drags. “Trouble in paradise. Understood. I will be at my desk if you want to complain about your husband like Margaret from Finance.”

Margaret from Finance. The woman who’s entire catalogue of marital issues would be solved if she and her husband simply spoke to each other once in a while. Perhaps even held hands on occasion. 

You wince as you envision yourself becoming as stuck up and miserable as that, Hansol’s harmless comparison sending you into yet another spiral. It wasn’t that serious, this was all because your brain was stressed, horny and in love. The fact that your husband looked like how he did wasn’t really helping either. 

With a little more aggression than you usually would’ve done with, you attempt to skim through the files as quickly as humanly possible, flicking through the useless filler pages to get to the ones that actually required your attention. 

You send a passive aggressive email to Hansol entailing his job to keep things precise. 

Shoving forkfuls of salad into your mouth, your mouse clicks louder than anyone else in the area, having gone back to change your cursor speed about thrice since you turned your computer on. 

Your phone dings. Closing your eyes, you count to ten before turning to look at the illuminated screen beside you. 

[Gyu <3]: did u have lunch?

[Gyu <3]: i wanted us to get sum together but u zoomed off : (((

[Gyu <3]: im done with my classes for the day. The students were asking ab you earlier when u came in heh

[Gyu <3]: cant wait to see u tonight i looooooveee u <333

God, he makes it hard to stay mad at him. 

Snapping your head back to your monitor, you close your eyes once again as you question the war in your head and chest. Why were you mad at him? There was nothing to be mad about. Did you expect him to go about his day covered in plastic wrap and a neon ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign all day? The ring on his finger was supposed to do the job just fine. 

You sigh as you force yourself to text him back something that wasn’t entirely passive aggressive. Typing and erasing, and typing again and erasing again. A smiley face to seal it into something you were not feeling, and send. 

It’s late in the afternoon by the time you’re done, the sun less blaring as it pours through the office windows. You flick the last file shut, power off your computer and spring up to your feet, immediately gathering your things. Phone, ID, keys, and the last plastic file in your hands, you stalk towards Hansol’s desk and slam the papers next to his computer. 

He nearly chokes on his pocky stick as you spit out your final notes in rapid fire, not caring if you were indecipherable in the slightest. Hansol’s eyebrows remain in the air by the time you’re done, spinning on your heels and walking straight towards the elevators. 

“See you, Monday!” you finally hear him call out and you don’t turn to return his goodbye. Something that might have given you a strike but you could threaten him to take it off all the same. 

Besides, you had somewhere to be, and the idea churning in your brain didn’t seem like it wanted to wait. 

The sun is setting by the time you get to the beach boardwalk, climbing the steps to the line of establishments that overlook the significantly more occupied shore. Everything is perfect. Warm just the right amount, the sunlight forcing everything in its path into an incandescent glow. 

What you would’ve given for a nice lie on one of the beach chairs to release an entire day’s worth of tense muscles. But alas, you trudge straight down the boardwalk and walk the way to Mingyu’s studio. When you’re nearly there, you see the glass door of the studio open from a distance, immediately recognising the part timer leaving for the day. 

You cross paths as he walks towards you in the opposite direction, lighting up as he recognises you through your work attire. 

“Oh, hi!” Chan chirps, arm raised in a half wave. 

“Hi! Clocking out?” you ask as you stop to greet him. 

“Uh—yeah, Mingyu let me go early.” He’s grinning. 

“Good to hear. You enjoy the rest of your night, alright?” 

“Yeah–uh, you too!” he stutters once again as he continues to smile wide. You think nothing of it and continue your short walk to where the studio doors were. 

Coming round, you find the large glass door and walls have been blocked out with the blinds, the blaring CLOSED sign right at the entrance. 

You stand there in front of the door like a fool, taking a deep breath, eyes closed as you gain your bearings. Grabbing the shiny handle, you push the unlocked glass open. 

The bell at the top jingles, signalling a customer, and you watch your husband sitting at one of the turntables, clearly occupied. The studio is completely empty except for him, the whirr of the spinning table coming to a halt as he turns to tell whoever came in that they were closed for the day. 

It’s revolting. He’s wearing his usual black tee, stained with months of splattered clay, his hair tousled like he’d run his hands through it before he started his project. The sun seeps in through the neglected edges of the top of the glass walls, past the blinds that cover most of them, casting him in an unbelievable light. It’s revolting, he’s done nothing and it’s making your head reel; revolting. 

“We’re—oh, you’re early!” There it is, that stupid smile he can’t help but flash at every last person he sees, directed straight at you laced with nothing but love. 

Reaching behind you, you push the metal lock on the door to click it shut, locking the both of you inside, and the rest of the beach and boardwalk out. Right after, you begin to kick off your heels. 

“I already made the reservations for an hour from now, let me change and wash up so we can go to the beach till—”

“Sit down.”

He was halfway out of his seat as he was talking, ready to leave his half done work on the turntable to leave with you. Your words come out firm, a strange tone like you were giving him a command. 

It works, and the shock has him immediately falling back into his chair. The force pushes the chair away from the turn tables, now half facing you.  

Dropping your bag, you shuck your long coat off and leave it on the floor. Eyeing his hands, they’re covered in wet clay, suspended away from his body so as to not ruin his clothes more than they already are, speckled with dried clay and paint. 

He recovers quickly, confused as he watches you fiddle with the buttons on your bottoms, rising out of his chair once again. 

“What are you—” 

“I said,'' you grunt as you finally push your bottoms down so they hit the floor. “Sit down.” 

The shift in his face makes it obvious it has clicked in his head, staring at you as you walk towards him in just your blouse as the situation escalates faster than he can keep up with. 

“Right now? Can you at least let me—”

Through his blabbering you’ve reached him and swung a leg over his lap, seating yourself on his clothed thighs as he moves his hands away, making sure not to get clay all over your blouse. 

His hands may be occupied in a different sense, but you choose to busy yours in other ways. Taking his face in your hands, you lock your mouths in an open mouthed kiss, rendering him speechless. 

Taking no time to think, nor to let him think, you push your hips down to meet his own in a deep grind, panty clad pussy making contact with the rough of his jeans right over his bulge. The feeling is so sudden, spiking throughout your system as you hear him take a sharp inhale still pressed into your mouth.

That was you. That was you getting that reaction out of him, no matter how small it was. The thought has you gripping the back of his head, fingers making home in the short strands of his hair as you let go from the kiss. 

Wasting no time, you push his head back and stick your tongue out, licking a stripe from the base of his throat right up to his jaw. He shivers beneath you, and it only muddles your mind even more. 

You can feel his bulge beneath you growing larger and larger by the second, pressing into your inner thigh as his breathing grows exponentially heavier in your ear. Locking eyes with him, you trail your other hand down to graze over the front of his shirt, pressing into the bumps and ridges that lie beneath.

Reaching his buckle, you hook your finger underneath the gap and pull at the metal. As you let go, it snaps back into place with a resounding cling! Keeping the eye contact, you drift even lower, your fingers find the growing tent in his jeans as you cup the bulge. Moving your hands in the way you know he likes it, you curb your speed to drag out the feeling for him. 

“Fuck,” you hear him curse lowly. 

It’s becoming impossible for him to keep his composure, especially to keep his hands away from your body that sits on him. He gets close, fingers brushing the white of your blouse in a moment of confusion, instant brown on the surface as his wet, clay hands ruin your shirt. 

“If you really can’t keep your hands to yourself,” you say, halting your movements on his crotch. “I guess this’ll have to go too.”

Not bothering to undo all the buttons, you tug the first couple ones unfastened and pull your blouse over your head, throwing it somewhere behind his head. Quickly, you reach behind and unclasp your bra, flinging it away in the same general area. You’re now almost entirely naked while he remains clothed head to toe. 

Your nipples harden as they meet the air in the studio, Mingyu’s eyes set on your mounds as he takes them in. 

Before he has the opportunity to do anything, you slip off of your seat in his lap, knees slamming the floors in your haste as you kneel before him. Hands flying, you tug at the buckle of his belt, undoing it despite your hurried motions. 

“You’ve been off today, are you sure everything’s alright?” Mingyu asks from, still wide eyed as he watches helplessly as you yank his jeans enough to reveal the final layer of his underwear. It doesn’t take you long to take his entire length out of there too, needing him in front of you.

“Do not ask me about my feelings when I’m trying to fuck you.”

“What on earth–shit!”

You’ve taken his now fully hard length into your hand, licking a strip from the base of his cock up to the bulbous head. The tip of your tongue teases the head ever so lightly, and Mingyu watches as his head and your tongue match in their reds. He watches the way your tongue dips into the pooling white of his precum, pushing into his slit as the tip of your tongue wiggles slightly. 

The fact that he cannot touch only heightens the effects of your teasing, clayed hands balling into fists just to feel something on his fingertips. 

Soon, your lips have wrapped around the head of cock as you let it rub against the beginnings of the inside of your soft mouth. Letting go, you take him in again, this time running your tongue over his slit, feeling his hips twitch beneath you as you continue to take him in and out, only to take him back in again. 

In one motion, you sink your mouth lower onto his dick, feeling the head of his cock run against the roof of your mouth. Mingyu hisses audibly amidst his very loud and heavy breathing. 

When you feel him hit the beginnings of your throat, you pull back, bringing your hand to curve around the base to cover what you couldn’t fit, pumping him up and down as you continue to pull his member in and out of your mouth. 

He’s moaning loud, the echoes resonating off the walls as you hear your name slip from his mouth over, and over, and over again. It only encourages you as you move down deeper, his cock touching the back of your throat in more familiarity than before. 

Everything is wet; the spit and precum turning into a shiny gleam on his cock and on the lower half of your face, the heat between your legs that makes you feel oh so empty. Clenching around nothing, you resist the urge to bring a hand down to relieve yourself. 

“Are you ovulating or something, why are you suddenly…suddenly, fucking hell I don’t know.” 

Releasing him from your mouth with a loud pop, you rear your head to look up at him, the lower half of your face covered in a wet glisten. Your hand continues to pump him as you watch his face remain contorted in pleasure.

In a daze, you don’t realise what you’re saying as you blab. “Could she do it like this?”

“What?”

“Could she do it like this?” you repeat like a mantra, needing to hear his answer. “Could she make you feel like this?”

“What are you talking about?” It’s taking Mingyu every bit of his soul to form coherent words. 

In one swift motion, you’ve hoisted yourself back on your feet, nails digging into his thighs through his pants. 

Hovering over his lap, you take his shaft once again, but this time you push your panties aside with your hand and bring it close to your heat, brushing the head of his cock over your wet folds, using him to feel the pleasure that builds. 

“God, you’re so wet,” he blabs as he throws his head back at the feeling. “I wanna touch you, fuck I need to get this clay off, I need to touch you.”

He’s brought his mouth to latch onto your nipple, evoking a loud gasp from you as feel him circle your nub with his tongue before sucking. Letting go, he sticks his tongue out as his only weapon, flicking it repeatedly as you continue to rub his wet cock over your equally wet cunt. 

Lining him up with your entrance, you sink onto his head as you let out a loud moan, feeling the tip stretch you out in the familiar way you’ve been craving all day. It’s like your brain is buffering as you recover from the bout of pleasure, barely registering that he’s continued to assault your other nipple now. 

Your free hand comes to toy with your relieved tit, twisting your spit covered nipple between your fingers as his dick pushes further and further inside you. 

Fully sheathed, you pull your husband’s face away from your breast as you bring his lips to your own, kissing him deep as you clench around his hard cock.

“Don’t. Do that,” he hisses against your lips, hands suddenly closing in your waist, so close before he realises he can’t. “‘M gonna fucking come, I’m so serious.”

The news is enlightening, especially as it encourages you to lift your hips ever so slightly, and curl back back down in an initial thrust. Again, and again, and again till you’re moving your hips at a swift pace, striking down on his length as you both moan into each other's mouths.

The feeling is electrifying, and the borderline pornographic noises your husband is making is only making it all the more easier to gush around his member, to move your hips faster as you feel the knot in your abdomen tighten and loosen. 

“You feel amazing, so fucking good,” he grunts as he mouths the column of your throat. “My baby, my darling, my wife.”

And when the burn in your thighs becomes more than just a mental battle, your hips slowing despite the mind boggling feeling and the choked sobs that come out of you, you feel Mingyu’s hips lift from the chair he’d been trapped in, pushing into you instead. 

His still dirty hands have taken hold of the top of the back legs of the chair, helping himself push off his seat to thrust into you rapidly. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” he says. “Rub your clit for me.”

Who are you to deny him, one hand on one of his broad shoulders while the other flies down to the mess that’s becoming of your cunt. Rubbing two fingers over your clit, you throw your head back in a loud moan as you feel yourself beginning to close in.

Mingyu is watching the apex of your thighs; the way your fingers work against your swollen clit, the way his dick disappears inside you, a ring of sinful white foaming at the base of his cock. He twitches inside you, a clear indication that he was also close. 

Your breasts are a sight to behold, and the scene before him is enough to make him bust entirely. Bouncing tits that he cannot touch, perfectly red, puffed pussy he cannot touch, the beautiful curves and dips of your waist and thigh, barely illuminated by the setting sun, that he cannot touch. He curses the wretched idea to make a last minute thing on the turntable before you arrived, curses the fact that he should be able to feel all of you. 

He might lose his mind, and he does when your walls clamp down on him like a trap, your moans so loud he’s sure he’ll be hearing them in his ears for weeks. 

“G–Gyu, I’m cumming,” you whimper through the pure brain fog. 

Mingyu fucks you through your orgasm, finally letting himself release his own load into you when he simply can’t take it anymore, dick spasming as he shoots white hot cum into your hole. The added slick makes it easier to slip in and out faster as his orgasm holds out far longer than it usually does, both of your hips twitching like you’d been zapped as you come down from your highs. 

It’s become near impossible to hold up your own weight, slumping against his large frame as you unclench every pinched muscle and joint. Forehead on his shoulder, you take pleasure in the afterglow, breathing in his scent with your nose pressed into the sliver of skin that reveals past his shirt. Sweat, the earthy odour of clay, and the calm familiarity of him.

“I don’t know what I did to have you acting like this,” he breathes into your ear. “But whatever it is, I need to do it more often.”

Sluggishly, you lift your head to look at him. His head is leaned back on the chair, face glowing as you stare into the eyes you fell in love with so long ago. 

“You haven’t done anything,” you sigh. “It was…stupid.”

“That’s the worst thing you could say to me right now.”

You whine, rolling your neck. “What do you want me to tell you?”

He stares. “Who do I need to thank for creating this monster?”

It was a joke, clearly, but you couldn’t help but feel the little pool of pride swell within you anyway. 

“Salad bowl girl.”

“And I’m supposed to know what that means? Do you want a salad bowl? I can make you one.”

“No. The girl in your class this morning with that god awful salad bowl,” you huff. “It looked offensive, she was too busy burning holes into you.”

“Oh no,” he whispers, eyes wide, mouth turning it the beginnings of a hysterical laugh. “My pretty little wife is jealous.”

“If you’re gonna rub it in, I'm getting off.” You try to remove yourself from his lap, slipping his now soft member out of you. 

You’re stopped when you feel the two points of his elbows locking you at the waist, pushing you down. He’s grinning like a fool. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

“I’m not angry—”

“Your hello was my dick in your mouth.”

“So you didn’t like it?”

“I’d fire myself in the kiln before I ever say that.” He locks his elbows harder, pulling you closer. “Besides, I think this means I’ve won.”

“Won what?”

“Like you’ve never noticed Chan looking at you like…like he’s got some puppy dog crush on you. I’ve won the battle of composure.” 

You guffaw, “What are you—stop it, he does not!”

He merely leans forward and kisses you, “I don’t blame him. My wife is the most gorgeous thing anyone could ever see.” 

Grabbing him by the elbows, you break free of his hold and get off of his lap, attempting to gather the clothes you’ve scattered across the studio. 

“Can you at least help me put my dick back inside my pants, these are my cleaner jeans!”

Snapping the elastic of your bra back on, pantied adjusted, you walk back to him. He’s looking at you with those stupid stars in his eyes and it makes it hard to focus on readjusting his jeans for him. 

Leaning down, you take in your hands his still wet cock, smothered in your spit and arousal, complete with his own release. You can’t help it when you dip further to take his head into your mouth, the groan coming from above you near automatic. 

“Oh, you’re evil.”

You grin as you wrap your mouth in a harsher suck, feeling him harden slowly, still quicker than you’d thought. Giving him a few more generous sucks, you run your tongue over his slit before moving back. 

He’s breathing heavily, leaning close as you pull his waistband up. “You know, they say you should lay down afterwards if you want to be successful. I think we might have to go again later on a real bed to do the trick.”

“You can stay horny, I’m getting dressed for some real food.” 

“I think we kinda need to be horny to do what we’re trying to do,” he lowtones, moving his face back and forth to meet your drifting eyes. 

You sigh once again, “Why can’t just getting off birth control be enough?”

“Are you not having fun?”

“I’m literally buttoning your pants for you, it was fun until now.”

Mingyu raises his hands in both surrender and pointed regard, the clay now dried and cracking over his hands and forearms. “I digress.”

 It annoys you that he’s right, so you lean in to give him a kiss as a distraction. It works. 

“It’s alright,” he smiles into your kiss. “This is the one thing I won’t mind breaking my back for.”

The giggle escapes you before you can help it, and you feel him kiss at your cheeks, placing one last one on the tip of your nose.

“Now, if my lovely wife will let me wash my hands…?”

“Go,” you chuckle.

“We should name our baby Salad Bowl in this honour.” He’s way at the handwash station by now, water running as he scrubs off all the dried up clay.

“So sad our baby will have to grow up without a father.”

 “I love you,” he yells. 

“I’ll be sure to tell our child.” 

“You’re insufferable,” he says, suddenly behind you as you pull on your blouse. Wet hands grasp your waist and you squeal at the feeling. 

“Mingyu!” 

“I love you,” he drags, spinning you around to face him. 

“I thought I was insufferable.”

Your husband groans, simply pulling you into him with his own two hands to kiss you. 

“I think we’re late for our reservation.”

“You’d better hurry then.” You eye his clay speckled shirt.

“Don’t miss me.” He turns around to find his cleaner shirt, all while you drift over to see the incomplete project still on his table.

A mug still clay-brown and half done, but one that looks suspiciously similar to your favourite one you broke last week. 

it's okay.

group: stray kids !

pairing: nonidol!hyunjin x f!reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort

warnings + additional info: reader is referred to as y/n, insecurities, usage of grounding methods, beginning of an anxiety attack, hyunjin tries his best, y/n has image issues, hyunjin comforts her, y/n is a chronic overthinker, they both struggle with communication, kind of sappy.

authors note: happy bday hyunjin… oops :3 this is also not proofread. english is not my first language, so please excuse any grammatical or spelling errors. happy reading :)

wc: 1963

the tears run down your face like two turbid rivers, your mascara running down with them. the lightning-like streaks do nothing to ease your pain, as you stare into the mirror and look at yourself. 

normally, others would be admiring themselves in a place like this, all dolled up with a pretty dress on, but it’s not the same for you. you’re not marveling at yourself, no, you’re disgusted. 

the more you look, the more flaws you find. your eyes don’t look the same anymore, they’re tired and red. your nose is crooked, it looks weird from the front. your lips are chapped and bitten, your lipstick looks weird on it now. your face is chubby and swollen, and you blame it all on yourself.

this should be easy to handle. everyone goes through these rough patches, so why can’t you handle it? why is it so hard to be alone now, when you‘ve been independent all your life?

maybe you’ve gotten too attached to him, or maybe it’s the way he makes you feel. you’re not sure you believe a single thing he says about you when he admires you, but it’s enough to melt away all of the voices in your head telling you that you’re not enough. 

you quickly unzip the dress, climbing out of the itchy fabric. it hardly fits you anymore, another flaw you’ve found. you slip on your silk pajamas, the ones hyunjin bought you. they used to make you feel slim and beautiful.

you’re not sure you like them much anymore.

you wash your face, trying your best to remove the eyeshadow stains. your makeup has long expired, it’s been a while since the last time you’ve even tried to look pretty. the pink hues don’t come off your face though, so you choose to leave them there, instead drying your face and tying up your hair.

you open the door finally, only to see hyunjin already in bed. he’s scrolling through his phone, smiling at something, but you don’t question it. you wouldn’t be surprised if it was someone else, he’s probably bored of you by now anyways.

you slowly climb into bed, careful not to bother him too much, but quickly face away from him. 

he doesn’t seem to notice.

you start feeling self conscious. he always helps you. he always pulls you out of his headspace. he always knows what’s wrong.

why doesn’t he know something’s wrong?

are you acting different? are you too much for him? does he not care anymore? did he really get bored of you?

why doesn’t he know something’s wrong?

you stay facing the window, afraid of what he could say if he saw your condition right now. you hear him put down his phone onto the nightstand, and he finally turns towards your back. maybe he’ll realize that something’s wrong now.

but he doesn’t.

you feel a chill go down your spine as you feel his breath brush your neck, but you don’t dare turn around. you feel another tear slipping from your eye, and quickly wipe it away. your nose is stuffy, but you can’t make a sound.

he’ll hear you.

you can feel him inching closer towards you, and then you finally feel his cold fingertips on your neck. his heartbeat drums lightly against your back, comforting you a bit. that is of course, until you lose your focus and accidentally sniffle too loudly.

“baby?”

you can’t bring yourself to turn around. “baby, are you crying?”

you shake your head, “no, my nose is just stuffy”.

“will you turn around for me, love?”

you know you can’t listen to him, it’ll only make everything worse, but you still bring yourself to turn around. the look on his face once he sees your bloodshot eyes has your heart twisting and turning inside your chest.

“i’m sorry hyune…”

he slowly reaches a hand up to touch your face, but you move away. you wish he could just read your mind.

he takes a quick mental note to ask next time before touching you. “what’s wrong dear?”

“nothings wrong, i’m okay hyunjin”

he lets out a soft sigh and closes his eyes, contemplating what to say next. meanwhile, the tears have started to flow nonstop. the ache in your chest has only gotten worse.

maybe you’re really too much for him now…

before you let you thoughts ruin you again, hyunjin’s voice snaps you out of it. “is it okay if i come a little closer sweetheart?”

you can only bring yourself to nod as he scoots himself towards you. he’s still careful to keep a small space between you two, too afraid to push any boundaries. 

“can i hold your hand?”, his voice is shaking, scared he’s done something to hurt you. 

“yeah…”, he reaches down under the blanket, grabbing your hands and bringing them up to his lips. they feel soft, like you’ve always remembered them. it’s been a while since you’ve felt them on your hands like this.

carefully, he plants small kisses on your knuckles. your breath gets caught in your throat every time he looks up at you with those teary eyes. “what’s got my pretty girl so upset?”

the sentence alone is enough to force the tears out of you freely, and you can’t stop yourself from falling apart. 

“can i hold you, y/n?”

you nod, moving closer towards him and hugging him around the waist. the second you two make contact, he quickly pulls you closer and carefully lowers your head onto his shoulder.

“i’m here, okay? what’s wrong my love?”

you cry even louder now, your body shaking with your sobs. you try to get some words out, but only soft whimpers can be heard throughout the room. “calm down, you’re okay…”

“i… i c-can’t—“, your breaths become heavily labored, but hyunjin quickly catches on. you trust him with your heart, he always knows what to do.

he runs his fingers through your hair slowly, careful not to startle you. “can you breathe with me darling?”

you nod, taking a deep breath. you can feel him shudder against you, and it only causes you to cling on tighter. his warm breath hits your neck, and it sends shivers down your spine. 

“just a couple more, hm?”

“o-okay…”

his heartbeat is the only thing you can hear aside from your sniffles. it’s grounding, in a sense. before you can catch yourself, he tilts your head up so that you’re looking right at him.

“hey pretty girl… are you with me?”

you shake your head. “don’t call me that.”

he smiles, pushing the hair out of your face so that he can get a proper look at you. “no? you’re not my pretty girl?”

“n-no… hyune… not pretty.”, you sob. his expression shifts almost instantly, as he stares at you with a dumbfounded expression. “where is this coming from?”

“hyunjin… i’ve never been pretty.”

“says who?”, his voice begins to get a little heavier with every word, and you can see his face slowly getting redder in the darkness.

“no one said anything… just please don’t be mad at me…”

“i could never be mad at you over that, hm? what’s wrong lovey?”, he smiles, regardless of the pain he feels in his chest. it’s something he’s always done for you, he hates leaving you to rot in your own thoughts.

“i look… different. i know it’s been a while since we went on a date but… i don’t look good anymore, even with makeup on. my dresses hardly fit me and i’ve just been gaining so much weight and im ugly… im so—“

before you can get the apology out, he quickly shuts you up with a kiss. you want to pull away, you know he doesn’t deserve to be with someone like you, but you can’t help it. he kisses you so softly, as if you’re the most fragile thing in the world. his now warm hands cup your face and his thumbs stroke your cheeks. it’s like he’s pouring his entire heart out with one action.

he finally pulls away from you, but stays close, your noses still touching. “don’t say that… please. you are my pretty girl, and you mean a lot to me. it’s not just about your looks, you know”

“you don’t always have to baby me, you know…”, you whisper.

you hear his breath hitch in his throat, but he decides on not saying anything, instead pulling away slowly to give you space. “tell me what you need, i want to help. you know you’re the only one for me, right?”

“i’m not sure. sometimes i don’t feel appreciated enough. i know you already do a lot for me, but sometimes i just want to be told that i’m loved directly…”

he smiles at you again, but you can see the pain in his eyes. you knew he would never take these things lightly, but it makes you want to take every single thing that you’ve said back.

“i love you. i mean it. i wish i would have said it more, and i want you to love yourself too. please don’t set standards for yourself just because of me…”

this time around, you grab his hand, and move closer to wrap your arms around his torso. “don’t beat yourself up about it. i know you do. it’s just my stupid overthinking.”

“don’t call it stupid, my love. i understand. but i do think you’re beautiful. i love your personality more than anything, and i can’t imagine myself with anyone other than you. do you understand that? i may deserve better, but i want you”. he sniffles lightly, too scared to let you see him in such a weak place.

“it’s okay to cry, hyunjin.”

and so he does. he cries and cries and holds onto you like you’re his lifeline. you can hear the small apologies slip past his lips as he whimpers into your chest.

you’ve never seen him like this. it’s never been this bad. you’re starting to wonder if it was you who broke him like this…

“we can work on all this, okay? would you like that, y/n?”

you nod in response, but you can’t help the last question from slipping out. “do you still care about me the way you used to?”. you don’t realize that you’ve even said it until he lifts his head up to look at you. slowly pushing himself off of you, he clears his throat.

“my feelings for you haven’t changed, but the way that i express them has. i’ll try to be better with these things, y/n. i promise.”

before you can tell him that it’s okay, he turns around and faces the window, opposite from you. you don’t want to bother him anymore tonight, and you figure you’ll talk about this the next morning, so you leave him be.

you turn around to face the wall instead of his back. it feels weird sleeping like this. it feels weird to not feel his warmth against you.

sleep doesn’t find you for a while. maybe it’s because hyunjin isn’t holding you this time. that is, of course, until you feel him turn around and hug you from behind.

his hands fix themselves around your waist, and you reach your hands down to hold his. you need to understand that this is just as hard for him too. “angel?”

“mmm?”, you mumble tiredly. “can we talk about this tomorrow?”

“of course, whenever you’d like, hyunjin.”

he kisses over your neck in response, eliciting small giggles from you. they make his heart flutter again, something he hasn’t felt properly in a long time. “tickles…”, you smile.

“y/n?”

“yes?”

“i love you.”

friends to lovers to strangers [trope — hongjoong]

inspired by: periwinkle — short story + genesis — smau by @songmingisthighs

word count: 3.3k

content: angst, smut, kitchen sex, gradual heartbreak, ofc joong chooses his career over you, completely consensual (sex)!

author's note: periwinkle was a short story i wrote for my ex-best friend many years ago... i have no idea if this is just as devastating, but i tried my best to make it as heartbreaking as periwinkle. if you ever wanna read periwinkle, lmk and i might just post it here

trope masterlist | part one | part two

It wasn’t romantic at first. It was very friendly. You met Hongjoong at one of your friend’s parties— Mingi loved celebrating the randomest things, and you usually avoided his parties due to said randomness, but you finally went, and that was when you met Hongjoong.

He was very different from what you were expecting. Well, you didn’t know that you were going to meet him that day, but based off Mingi’s personality (and the personalities of a lot of his friends), Hongjoong was the oddest one out. He was calm, collected, watched his limits while drinking instead of downing everything in sight, and he was a lot of fun to talk to.

The first night you met him, you spent a lot of time just trash-talking Mingi and his friends. You didn’t hate them, per se, but it was so easy to make fun of their dumbass decisions, and just reminiscing and sharing stories about them was a lot of fun. Honestly, if it weren’t for Hongjoong, you probably would have never gone to another one of Mingi’s parties.

You and Hongjoong bonded fast. Granted, you only ever talked to him when you met him at parties, but you spent a lot of the time at those parties together. You would drink, share stories about your childhood, and he would drink and tell you thing about his brother, who you grew to like just by hearing those stories of his.

“Hey, I have a question for you,” you prodded Hongjoong’s shoulder one night when you were particularly tipsy. “You have my number, right?”

“Yeah, I do. What about it?”

“Why don’t you ever text me to hang out? I feel like it’d be fun to talk during the day, too,” you pouted.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I was waiting for you to text first,” Hongjoong couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s easier to work around your schedule since you work that nine to five as an HR associate—”

“HR director now, actually! I got promoted.”

“Wow! Congratulations,” Hongjoong beamed at you, his gummy smile more of a compliment than his words. “But, see, you’re super dedicated to your job, and my sleep schedule is usually fucked since I spend so much time at the studio—”

“Right! Because you’re a composer,” you said a little too loudly. “Right.”

“But I promise,” Hongjoong took your hand. “Text me, and we’ll make plans during the day.”

“You promise? You promise to actually make plans with me instead of sleep through them like some people?” you asked while nodding your head over to Mingi who was busy doing shots out of the bartender’s belly button.

“I promise.”

Hongjoong stuck to his promise. It was honestly really fucking difficult to make plans with him, but he said he would make it for coffee at least once a week, and that he did. Talking to him during the daytime was a lot more pleasant than you expected. You were a little worried that you enjoyed his company only while you were drunk because you only ever talked to him when you had a couple shots in you, but he proved to be great conversation outside of the party scene as well.

You texted him frequently, asking him if he wanted to go for coffee or watch a movie— anything just to spend time with him. You truly loved spending time with him, and he, you. You had never felt so comfortable with another human being in your entire life before, and every single time you met with him, he just exceeded your expectations further.

“Okay, tell me,” you were on the phone with him trying to make plans. “What movie do you want to see?”

“Sleepless in Seattle,” he responded.

You blinked and frowned. There were many things about his response that threw you for a curve. For one thing, you thought you were going to go to a movie theater; another was that Sleepless in Seattle was an old movie, so the only way you were going to be able to watch that is if you went to his apartment or he came to yours; and the last thing was that Sleepless in Seattle was a romantic comedy, and Hongjoong definitely did not seem to be the type to enjoy movies like that.

“I… Uh,” you cleared your throat. “I have many questions.”

“I’ll be happy to answer them, but it’ll have to be later. I gotta finish this up real quick. Just come to my place by seven, okay?”

You could barely accept his conditions before he hung up abruptly. Sleepless in Seattle in Hongjoong’s apartment it was.

Honestly, his choice of movie was enough for you to get a hint of what he was trying to say to you, but you doubted it slightly when you saw him paying so much attention to the soundtrack, only for those doubts to vanish when he silently moved closer to you, his shoulder pressing against yours as you both pretended to focus on the movie.

“Hey, Y/N, I was curious…” Hongjoong whispered. “Have you ever thought about... You know… How comfortable our friendship is?”

“I mean, I do sometimes,” you admitted.

“And… Do you ever wonder…”

You turned your head and made eye contact with him. Honestly, you never really got a good look at Hongjoong’s face until right then and there. His eyes were slightly widened as he looked at you, and his lips were parted ever-so-slightly to the point where you could catch a brief glimpse of his beautiful teeth— and, God, his perfectly shaped nose. You felt your chest tighten the longer you looked at him, all of the words in your vocabulary getting caught up in the traffic jam in your chest.

Neither of you uttered a word. The credits rolled in the background as your lips pressed against Hongjoong’s gently, his hand slowly reaching up to brush your hair away from your face and tuck the strays behind your ear. He kissed you slowly but sensually, the feeling of his lips encompassing yours making your entire body warm up with what you could only describe as affection.

It was safe to say that your friendship was pretty much shot to hell after that kiss, but it didn’t matter since you found a lover in your friend. People always said to find a friend in your lover, but the other way around was just as good from what you could tell.

“Okay, so for dinner,” you started explaining as you stood in Hongjoong’s kitchen. “I was thinking either pasta or chicken.”

“What about chicken pasta?” Hongjoong asked as he entered his kitchen and stood alongside you, the two of you staring into the refrigerator at the groceries he had left.

“Sure, we can do that,” you mused out loud as you thought about different ways you could pair the two.

“Yay,” Hongjoong cheered quietly before hugging you from behind. “Thank you, sweetheart.”

“You’re welcome, honey.”

Hongjoong rocked you back and forth as he continued to embrace you before swaying side to side. You held onto Hongjoong’s arms and closed your eyes as you let him guide this music-less dance. He spun you around and held you as he continued to move around the kitchen and hum a pretty little melody.

He stopped hugging you, his hands immediately searching for yours. He held your hands and began dancing properly with you, the melody from his soul getting louder. He didn’t sing any lyrics, just the tune of the song— a song he was most likely composing. The smile on your face only got wider as you looked at Hongjoong and his cheesy, beautiful grin, little giggles and sighs dissipating in the romantic atmosphere in the kitchen.

Spontaneity was Hongjoong’s favorite thing, which was something you noticed in your friendship with him that only got more intense when you started dating. He loved to whisk you away for romantic date nights, trips to the movies— once, you were craving deep-fried Oreos and mentioned it passively, but he went all the way to your favorite candy shop and got it for you without even batting an eyelash.

And of course, his favorite thing was spontaneous sex.

“Sweetheart,” Hongjoong whispered when the two of you gradually stopped dancing. “Do you want to maybe make dinner later…?”

“Won’t you be hungry after, though?”

“I’m hungry right now,” Hongjoong was quick to answer, his eyes narrowing and his skin slowly reddening.

He grabbed your waist and kept you close to him, his actions still soft, but the intensity in his eyes getting stronger the closer you pressed against him. There was no stopping Hongjoong now. The second you gave Hongjoong a tiny nod, he grabbed your waist and sat you down on the marble dining table.

“Strip, but keep the apron on,” he told you before heading into his bedroom to grab a condom.

You didn’t think Hongjoong had a kitchen sex fantasy, but you weren’t questioning— the look on his face got you all sorts of hot and bothered; so much so that you definitely wanted him more than he wanted you.

Hongjoong returned with the condom on, and the second he stood in front of you, he pushed your shoulder down so that you were laying down on the the surface, your legs dangling off the edge. Hongjoong hovered above you and lifted your apron slightly, his cock barely grazing your clit as he rubbed against the outside of your cunt. Your knees trembled with the feeling, making you hold onto his forearms, your grip on him getting more intense with his every movement.

“Joong,” you sighed out. “I just want you in me already.”

“You and me both, sweetheart, but I don’t want to hurt you,” Hongjoong said, the tip rubbing against your folds a little more vigorously.

Once Hongjoong deemed you wet enough, he pushed into you slowly, your walls stretching slowly, sensually. A pleasureful sigh danced on your lips as Hongjoong’s cock started to give you the relief you needed.

Hongjoong moved his arm out of your grasp so that he could stand upright grab the fabric of your apron and bunch it in his clutches, leaving your breasts exposed as he did so. His hands played with your breasts as he started moving, his waist rolling into yours. He either rubbed circles on your nipples with his thumbs or held your breasts tightly as he kept a steady pace with his thrusts.

You were biting your lower lip and letting out little gasps and sighs the more he explored your body with his hands. The marble of the countertop was starting to heat up under your flaming hot body, sweat starting to cover your forehead and arms. A single drop of sweat rolled down Hongjoong’s temple, and it dropped onto your cheek when he bent over you again, his face near yours as he leaned in close. He had let go of your breasts at that point and held your thighs to push them closer to you, your lower back starting to lift off the countertop and change the angle at which he was thrusting into you.

“Shit, J-Joong,” you stuttered when you felt his cock rub inside you just right, the heat within you starting to build. “Just like that…”

“Yeah?”

You nodded and licked your lips as you looked into his eyes, your lips craving his. Apparently, he read your look correctly because he was kissing you seconds later, a slight smile appearing on his face the more desperate your kisses became. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and unconsciously began to roll your hips into his, the increased friction bringing you closer to your impending high.

It was when Hongjoong slammed his hips into yours with a force you weren’t anticipating did your body tingle all over. You broke off the kiss and moaned loudly as you came, your legs wrapping around his waist and pressing into him as your pussy convulse and get tighter.

“Sweetheart— Shit— So tight,” Hongjoong hissed.

You for sure thought Hongjoong was going to cum, but instead, he pulled you off the table and spun you around so that your torso was pressed into the cool marble and your legs were barely supporting you as he fucked you from behind.

The feeling of your nipples rubbing against the cool surface and the hot friction inside you made sparks appear every time you blinked, waves of pleasure threatening to swallow you. Hongjoong was holding your ass tightly as he thrust exponentially faster while grunting, his breathing getting shallower.

Without warning, Hongjoong wrapped his arm around you and started circling your clit, overstimulating you like crazy. You flung your head back and cried as you came for the second time, this time Hongjoong coming with you, his own groan overpowering your voice.

You whimpered slightly when you felt Hongjoong pull out, the warmth within you dissipating quickly. You slowly pushed yourself up and watched as Hongjoong took the condom off and threw it away. He returned to you and trapped you against the table, his hands on either side of you and a smile spreading on his face.

“Now, how about dinner?” he asked.

You couldn’t think about dinner— all you could think about was how sexy Hongjoong looked in that moment. His eyes were still filled with lust, and you could see out of the corner of your own eye that his cock was twitching. You kissed him and brought your hand to his dick, your fingers lightly rubbing along his length and making him rock hard all over again.

“Let’s just get food delivered,” you whispered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Hongjoong smiled and kissed you back.

His hands ran through your hair and gripped the roots of your hair as his kiss went from gentle to intense with half a second. The string of intense kisses continued as you wrapped your arms around him, your body pressing into his.

He led you to his bedroom, and the two of you laid on his bed as you continued to kiss, your limbs entangling with each other and the sheets below. A small, happy sigh left the man as he pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes closed, his smile blissful.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Hongjoong.”

Love doesn’t last. Love isn’t strong enough to keep everything from falling apart, and it’s always the little flaws you come to love at first that end up being the reason you can’t do it anymore.

Except, in the case of Hongjoong, it wasn’t a little flaw— it was a huge, glaring one. You’d know about it since the very beginning because he said it himself: his career was everything to him.

Now that the two of you were older, he was putting more time and energy into his music, which meant he was definitely phoning the relationship in. And you wanted to be understanding of him. His career was truly everything to him, but you should be too. After all, the two of you had been dating for a couple years by that point.

“I know that you were in the studio all day, but send a text wouldn’t kill you!” you said loudly, your frustration start to rise to the surface.

“I told you I get no reception in this new studio, Y/N!”

“You could’ve texted me after you got out!”

“I was driving! You want me to text and drive?!”

“That’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

“That’s what it sounds like to me.”

You huffed and ran your fingers through your hair, your hands starting to tremble with emotion. You tried your best to rationalize your thoughts, but when you were angry, there was no stopping revealing how you actually felt.

“Do you even care for me, Hongjoong? It seems like all you care about is sitting in the studio and rotting away.”

“Hey, you knew this about me. My career is everything,” Hongjoong’s voice got harder, and you could sense a little resentment in his voice.

“What about me, then? What am I to you?”

“You’re someone I love.”

“Love isn’t enough sometimes, Hongjoong. I don’t just need a bread winner. I need a companion or a friend or literally anything else to keep me company. I’m tired of waking up in an empty bed and going to sleep in an empty bed!”

Hongjoong went silent, and you continued.

“I’m tired of being lonely, Hongjoong. I’m tired of waiting for a text back from you. I’m tired of being neglected… Tell me honestly. Are you even in the studio, or are you out with someone else?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m asking you if there’s someone else in your life, Hongjoong.”

“That is beyond the line, Y/N. Being upset with me for dedicating my life to my career is one thing, but insinuating that I’m not actually working and spending time with another person is too far.”

“You seem to be defending yourself pretty hard there.”

“How fucking hard should I be defending myself then?! If I don’t say enough, then you accuse me, and if I say too much, then you still accuse me! This mentality— This is toxic.”

“What?!”

“This is toxic! You’re accusing me of cheating on you just because I’ve been acting the same way I’ve been acting since we first met!”

“You used to text me way more back in the past because if you were texting me the in the past the same way you’re texting me now, then this would’ve never happened.”

Then, you stopped. You changed. You changed. You lost sight of yourself in this relationship, and you forgot that you, too, were a career person, but you put your own life on the back burner for a man. You were a stranger to yourself.

“Y/N?”

“I… I need some time to myself. Just… Leave me alone for a bit, okay?”

Those were the last words you ever said to him. You texted him occasionally to check in on him, but he was still horrible at responding, and after some time, you dropped it. It was over. Neither of you had to officially declare it, but you both knew that it was over.

You focused on your career. While you were dating Hongjoong, you were kind of standing still in your career as an HR coordinator, not really looking to move up the ladder. After you broke up, though, you poured your blood, sweat, and tears into your job, and after about five years, you were up for a VP position. You had bounced between different companies over those years, and finally, you landed that position at a talent agency.

What you didn’t know, though, was that Hongjoong was signed under that talent agency, and you didn’t know that until you started working there.

You were walking through the halls when you saw him standing and chatting to one of the singers under your agency. Your heart sank upon seeing him, and it only got worse from there when you saw their fingers intertwined. His gummy smile which was once yours was now dedicated to the singer in front of him, and eyes sparkled. Your heart officially hit the ground when you saw him glance in your direction, that sparkle immediately vanishing.

Neither of you uttered a word. You cleared your throat and walked past with your head held high, and right before you rounded the corner, you looked behind you to see if he was looking at you, but no. He was in his own world with his new girl.

You were not only a stranger to yourself, but you had become one to him as well.

trope masterlist

trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower @yunhogrippers @oreoqueen @xhexy

network: @cromernet

apply for the taglist here!

unrequited love [trope — yunho]

inspired by: operation true love — webtoon + seventeen star show 360 — variety show (+ my brother's love life)

pair: sleazebag!big dick!yunho/afab!reader

word count: 3k

content: angst, smut, unrequited love, infidelity, yunho is kind of a dick, mingi is also kind of a dick, san is the best friend you are ever going to have, public sex, bathroom sex, safe sex, references to drug use, consensual sex

author's note: ngl i felt like such a shitty person writing this one mainly bc i'm using my brother's real life experience for this... nilly i am so so so sorry

trope masterlist | part one | part two

“Yunho, I’m nervous…” you whispered as he whisked you away into the bathroom.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

“My panties, Yunho. You have them.”

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

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

“What was it? Blow?” Mingi asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes, it was,” you said confidently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We did it at a hotel once.”

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

“Well, not yet—“

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

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

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

“We haven’t really talked about it—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yunho!” you said cheerfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

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

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

What…?

What?

What?!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“T-then what are we?”

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

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

“You… What?”

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

“Why would you think that?”

“I— What?!”

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

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

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

“Oh, but now you are in one, and you didn’t bother to tell me?! And why does she get to be in a relationship with you when you said you weren’t looking for one in the first place?!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry…”

“Fuck.”

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

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

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

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

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

Some fucking birthday.

trope masterlist

trope taglist: @eyeryis @sinnarols @k-hotchoisan @aaasia111 @sunshineangel-reads @hwallazia @dazzlingstarrs @hyukssunflower

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mingyu remembers the little things. he remembers to bring an extra pair of sunglasses when you go out, because you always forget yours. he remembers your favorite tea and keeps his cabinets stocked with teabags for when you come over. he remembers that you don’t like shirts that are tight around your arms so he picks tees with big sleeves for you to borrow. he remembers to line his shoes up by the door so the disorganization won’t bother you. he remembers the name of the street you grew up on and your mother’s favorite flowers and the books you absolutely hate and the brand of shampoo you use that’s different from the brand of conditioner you use and the way that you point out every green car you see and the songs you always turn up when they come on the radio…

everyone thinks that mingyu is forgetful but he’s not. not when it comes to you. not when it comes to you and all of the little things that made him fall in love with you in the first place.