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whiny sexy clingy romantic mingyu. oh i’m obsessed already 🙂‍↕️

ladies' night | wicked games series | k.mg

Kim Mingyu came into your life at a time when you needed a friend the most. And that he was: a friend that you could confide in and laugh together, share your secrets with and perhaps, share a burden that was too similar to his.

☆ pairings: kim mingyu x female reader ☆ genre: angst, smut [18+] ☆ aus: bartender mingyu, friends to rebound fucking, fwb to lovers (attempt at a slow burn) ☆ word count: 16k

› read more

›🎧: rebound – woodz | mood – dpr ian | healing killing – tabber | whiskey – jay b | i can't read your mind – meloh | restless – bibi | pretty girl – highvyn, estée | night – keshi | get up – new jeans | cigarette – onoffon, tablo, miso | feeling lucky – bibi | underwater – red velvet | sabotage – hyejin | drown – baekhyun

› warnings under the cut

☆ warnings: alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sub mingyu, soft dom reader, pussy drunk mingyu, manhandling, mingyu is low key a simp, reader is so down bad for him it is embarrassing, reader is on birth control, both mingyu and reader are lowkey toxic, size kink, big dick mingyu, use of sex toys, squirting, masturbation, foul language, dirty talking, lots of making out, reader has a bit of difficulty reaching her high, a bit of dry humping, oral sex (f. receiving), body worshipping, cowgirl, edging, unprotected p in v sex, creampies, aftercare. pet names: baby, shorty, pretty, (hers)

☆ acknowledgements: first things first! big thanks to @nonuify who suggested the title for the series! thanks to @onlymingyus who suggested a cute pet name for reader (that is, sugar which will come in the future), @miniseokminnies, @bitchlessdino and @wonustars for helping brainstorming for ideas hehe ty ty 🩵

also thanks to vee and @wooahaeproductions who helped me proofread this 🩵

☆ author's note: helloooooo! welcome to the hannieverse! where every single fic i've written is connected somehow! this series is closely connected to heartbreaker. though i don't think it is necessary to read that one in order to read this one here, but if you haven't read that one yet, be my guest hehe

☆ author's note 2: we have another reader self-insert!! i wish i could start self-inserting the things that are actually nice about my life... and not angst, bad sleeping habits and heartbreak (┬┬﹏┬┬) anyway, i hope you all enjoy this one

☆ disclaimer: minors DO NOT INTERACT. this post is intended for 18+ readers. please have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please or i will block you.

ladies' night

Lately, work had become your second home.

Not by choice, no. It was a thing that you forced into your life to keep yourself busy. Running a business was not easy, but you had reached a point in your life where you no longer needed to work 16 hours a day. Now, you felt like you needed to be working all day long. Or else, you would go insane.

Routine. You swore by it. Wake up, get ready, go to work, traffic, clock off, more traffic, come back home, sleep, repeat.

You could make time for yourself. But there was nothing else to dedicate your time to.

Coming back to a half-packed apartment was quite discouraging. Boxes piled up. The furniture you worked so hard to buy, gone, sold. You did not even bother to turn on the light, you had memorized your way through the maze of cardboard boxes.

Maybe I should get a dog.

The keys hanging from your fingers jingled as you reached your bedroom, tossing them on the nightstand to begin undressing yourself and getting ready to sleep.

There was a row of neatly folded clothes occupying one side of the bed, clothes that were ready to be packed away. Or donated. Whatever you wanted to do the following day.

You finished peeling off the last piece of clothing from your body, neatly disposing of it in the hamper, and dragged yourself to do your nightly skincare routine.

The biggest, and probably recurring challenge you had to get through was going to sleep. You faced your bed, half covered by small towers of folded clothes making you feel a deafening agony that you could not get rid of.

You set your phone on the side table before commanding yourself to sit on the bed, your back to the piles of clothes. You had to purposefully ignore your phone before going to bed if you wanted to get an interrupted sleep.

Lying on your pillow, you stared at the ceiling, your arms sticking to your torso, fingers curled on the bedcovers. The part you dreaded the most.

You closed your eyes, avoiding every thought completely. It was a difficult feat, it was impossible.

Slowly, and tentatively, you slid a hand beneath the bed sheets, reaching out to your side, feeling the weight of the piles of clothes pressing down on your arm. The side of the bed would remain empty, and you never dared to sleep on that side.

The side where your former partner used to sleep.

A part of you itched to grab your phone. What was the point, you concluded, retreating your hand and sticking it to your body again. There was no point in trying to reimagine a life in which you had not asked your ex to leave. There was no point in wanting someone that left you feeling so empty.

Maybe I should sell the bed too.

You stared at the ceiling once again, your gaze outlining the four margins of the bedroom. Whenever the night got bad, you would do this, over and over, until everything faded to black Until you fell asleep.

You woke up before your alarm went off.

It took you some moments to realize that you did not have to go to work that day. A heavy reluctance fell upon you, making it harder to drag yourself out of the bed you were planning to sell the night before.

You brushed the thought off. Okay.

You were okay. You were going to be even better.

The morning was bleak, the pale light making you squint your eyes as soon as you drew the blinds up. But you started working at once. The first task was putting the clothes in boxes, emptying space on the bed.

You wasted no time, removing the covers and the bed sheets without much thought. You did not want to think that even though you washed the pillowcases, you could still smell your ex's cologne in them. You did not want to think back to the time you bought the bed sheets with him when you moved in together.

It was too late.

Crushed, you closed the moving boxes, moving them into neat piles. The silence was nearly deafening.

You sat on the bed and waited.

The doorbell rang. People came in and stuffed a van full of all of the boxes and the bed. When it was time to go, you took one look at the place you swore you would live with the love of your life for a long while and closed the door behind you.

Three months later.

Your old routine started to tear you down. A silent killer, slowly destroying bits and pieces of your already fragile state. You were too slow or too ignorant to see it, but in protecting your precious routine, you were destroying yourself.

First, it was your sleep. Then, it was your closest friendships. Then, you could no longer pay attention at work. You were tired, and alone.

Enough is enough, you told yourself sternly.

You decided to do new things. Explore a bit more, distract yourself, pamper yourself. Watch a new show someone recommended to you ages ago, or actually read one of the books you bought and forgot.

Living in a new part of town should not be this challenging.

You knew every single corner of the neighborhood, yet you knew no one. And living in a city so vast and so populated demanded you to do activities in the company of someone.

Part of running your own business meant that you could manage your own time. That you did, shaving some hours off of your heavy and self-inflicted work schedule and taking some time for yourself.

The first thing you did was go shopping since it could be one activity you could do by yourself. And it was distracting. You went back home, and read that book.

Maybe I could put on this show while I unpack.

Some things were still kept in boxes from when you moved into the new apartment. Mainly those with stuff you did not require immediately. Clutter. Mostly bought by you to make your other apartment feel more lived in.

Time went by and you finished watching that show. You finished reading through the pile of books you got ages ago. You bought new clothes, and got rid of those that once occupied your ex's side of the bed.

You were slowly becoming someone else.

Waking up to a new reality happens in an instant. In the middle of the day. In the middle of traffic. It is realizing that the past you is no longer present, and you need to become someone else to fit into that reality.

At least, that was how it felt.

The red light turned green, and you pushed yourself through the traffic, though slowly. Maybe I should sell the car. You turned left, driving past the badly lit gym that stood on the corner, its purple neon, and red lights outside uninviting.

Automatically, you pulled up. Grabbing your purse, getting out of your car and meekly pushed open the door to the place. The myriads of different noises startled you at first, the very loud speakers mounted on every corner, the clanking of the heavy weights hitting the floor, planks hitting each other, and the occasional loud grunting of men.

The person wearing the staff uniform greeted you. The young man, though seemingly your age, looked at you up and down with bright doe eyes.

“Hi,” he nodded politely, showing you a smile adorned by a couple of studded piercings. “Welcome! How can I help you?”

The question seemed to drive a dry joke in your mind, but you paid no attention to it. “I want to register.”

His expression broke in a downturned smile, almost as if this were a quick reflex of his. You realized then; you were being quite dry.

“Please,” you added two seconds later.

“Sure,” he smiled, recovering from the awkward exchange without issue. “Follow me.”

The gym was packed, it got hotter the more you entered the place. The guy wearing the staff uniform appeared to be quite the popular person around, waving at gym goers left and right with great attitude.

You thought of mentioning it. But you just kept walking behind him to an office room secluded in one of the corners of the place. He turned on the light and went around the small desk, sitting down on the battered office chair with a heavy sigh.

“Okay, first things first,” he turned on the chair to one side, showing you with his hand to one coffee table pushed to the corner of the office. “Coffee?”

You looked at the coffee machine, and then to him. An eyebrow lifted.

“It's Thursday,” he shrugged. “We serve coffee every Thursday.”

You huffed, a small smile appearing on your face. “And on Fridays?”

“Ah! Do not get ahead of yourself. Maybe we can find that out tomorrow, miss...?” he pushed his eyebrows up, pulled one pen from the pencil case, and clicked it on, ready to fill out a form.

You fought the urge to laugh in his face, the awkwardness from the whole situation making your tummy feel uneasy.

You sat down on the chair, robbing the pen from his tattooed fingers. His doe eyes snapped open in surprise when you pulled the form from under his hand and started filling it out.

“Tell me prices,” you muttered, eyes focused on filling out the form, so you did not get the chance to see him smile when he let out a small breath.

“Well, that didn't go to plan,” he whispered to himself, seemingly.

Cute.

“Has it ever?”

You darted a look at him through your lashes. The guy had his eyes slightly widened, probably not expecting you to strike up a conversation of this type.

“Uh, well, yeah, but,” he stammered, like a deer in the headlights. “Only when I don’t mean it to,” he smiled sheepishly, bringing a hand to scratch the back of his neck.

“Well, then, I suppose that you can give me your name so I can give you mine,” you offered, though amicably. You finished writing on the form, putting the pen down.

“Jungkook,” he nodded his head politely. “Jeon Jungkook, miss.”

You smiled at him and told him your name, pushing the form to him on the desk.

Jungkook read the details you penned on the form intently, his lips softly mouthing each word, and then he turned to the old computer sitting on one side of the desk. But then, he shook his head swiftly. “Shit, yeah. Right,” he hissed. “Prices,” he turned to you.

“You know what,” you blurted, heartbeat racing when you pulled out your card from your purse. “Just sign me up.”

“Okay,” he nodded once again, his smile growing into a more content one, leaving the shyness behind. “Welcome to Casa Pump House,” he announced proudly.

His whole face had lit up, even his eyes seemed to glimmer under the pale overhead lights. The pause that followed told you that he was expecting you to match his energy, to smile, to say something.

A stiff smile stretched the features of your face, you nodded back at him. “Thank you,” you said. However, what he did not know was that the last thing you wanted to get out of your registration to the gym was working out.

You just needed another distraction.

The man stood up at the same time you did. “Let me show you around,” he said, demeanor completely changed. He seemed nervous, even.

“Oh, is it okay if we leave that for tomorrow?” you asked, suddenly feeling out of place in your work clothes.

His mouth hung open for a brief moment. “Sure,” he replied. “Of course. Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” you echoed, walking out of his office promptly. “Thank you, Jeon!”

You rushed through the rows of all types of machines. The noise from the heavyweights clashing together, the loud music coming from the overhead speakers, and the noises coming from men, exhaling, grunting, and such had you taking a deep breath when you came out of the place.

The night was cold, slightly damp from the mid-summer breeze. It was a stark difference from the humidity inside Casa Pump House.

You snorted.

I should learn to ignore my impulsive thoughts.

You found your car, unlocking the doors. But a flashing thought overwhelmed you even more: having to sit through yet another thirty minutes of traffic, alone with your thoughts.

Turning your back from your car, you locked the doors once again, walking down the street. It could be a Thursday night when your usual would be heading home and sleeping. But the city was very much coming alive with nightlife activities.

People were walking close together, laughing, chatting, or looking at their phones. All of them had somewhere to go, somewhere they were being waited for.

Two girls holding hands walked past you, they were giggling, talking about some innocuous thing, but it caught your attention, they were pretty and looked happy.

They stopped in front of an establishment that was clearly a bar. Namely The Spot, in big neon red letters and pushed inside the place, which was booming with loud music, and the buzzing from the people crowding the place.

Once again, you sighed.

Impulsivities.

You were not exactly a drinker. But as soon as you crossed the door, you realized that the place was the answer to your every prayer. Well, no. Not quite. But close.

The place was dark, only lit by neon signs and low-hanging lamps. A cacophony of various things filled your ears: the sound of music, paired with the chattering of the crowd, the billiards in the distance clashing with everything too.

The good part was that no one paid attention to you. You quietly and inconspicuously slid on one of the high-top chairs at the lacquered bar, being approached by a girl a second later to take your order.

“Can I have a coke, please?” raising your voice over the loud speakers made your heartbeat race. You rarely ever did such a thing lately, it felt weird to do something like that again.

The girl nodded and in seconds, she slid the can of coke and a glass with ice in it in front of you.

You were glad that you were not met with concern when you ordered a coke at a bar. But then you realized that no one cared.

The place was packed with mostly women, you realized as you familiarized yourself with its adorned walls and black and white checkered floors. The bar top held a chalkboard that explained it in neat handwriting: ladies' night, buy one get one free.

“Does it apply for non-alcoholic drinks too?” you asked the girl tending the bar.

She shook her head no. “But this one is on me,” she winked at you in a friendly way, when you sent her a questioning look, she just shrugged: “You look like you need it.”

Then the girl turned and continued working, tending to other orders in the bar quite skillfully. You wondered if you announced your sadness just by walking into the place, and people noticed. Or was it that being alone in a ladies' night instantly meant that you were going through a rough time?

You need new friends.

When you broke up with your ex, you hid from the world that revolved around you as a couple. The friends you shared, the places you used to go with him, the activities you liked doing with him… It all got shoved into a drawer at the back of your mind.

So now, you felt like coming back to life. Essentially, you were finding yourself after the pain of a heartbreak. The reason behind all your most recent life's decisions.

You would never go to bars alone, for instance.

Not that you did not enjoy a drink. You did. Though during the time with your ex-partner, it was a true rarity for you to go out and drink.

So being in a bar, on a Thursday was something you had not done in years.

It was quite overwhelming. The buzzing noise, the loud music, the clanking of glass and billiards, the booming laughter and chattering...

The mood was low, dimly lit in red neon lights, the noise seemed to die down upon laying eyes on the tall man going behind the bar, passing in front of you and blocking the sight of the huge neon red sign that read, HEARTBREAKER. The contrasting light against his tall frame made him alluring, you could not help but stare.

However, your trance was cut short. He might have sensed your eyes glued to him because his zeroed on your face, unsuspecting at first. You realized instead, you know this man, the thought fell heavily in your mind, settling in the pit of your tummy.

The dark eyes glinted with recognition, the corner of his lips rising to uncover the predominant fangs as he smiled politely at you.

Kim Mingyu took one step towards the spot you were sitting in, the smile fading at once as you jumped from your stool, swiftly slipping through the door and out of the bar altogether.

Once out, you released a puffy breath. Did you just run away from Kim Mingyu?

“But did he recognize you?” your best friend from college, Mona, asked. She toyed with the tail of a cherry, dragging it on the foamy surface of her pina colada.

“I don’t know,” you squished your cheek on your palm as you propped your elbow on the table. “I didn’t stick around to find out. I don’t think he did, though.”

“Are you sure about that?” she mused.

“I’ve changed a lot, Mona,” you explained, though pointlessly since your best friend already knew what you meant. “I’m not the same kid I was when I was seventeen.”

“True. So why did you run?” she asked, blowing a puffy air up her fringe to keep it off her long eyelashes.

“It was some sort of impulse,” you tried to explain but the truth was, you did not even know the answer to that question. Hence why you resorted to call in for a meeting with the person that knew you the most.

Though it was not a meeting. You had already set a date for you to meet with your best friend long before you found out that Kim Mingyu worked at the bar around the corner of your apartment.

It had been long since you saw your best friend, partly because you kept coming up with excuses to not meet with her.

“I think,” he started, now popping the cherry in her mouth. “That you have been so buried in your own shit that you’ve started to forget how to socialize.”

You coughed up a chuckle. “Right,” you said dismissively. “And what is your recommendation, doc?”

“You should return to the bar,” she shrugged. “You have been hiding for too long. It’s time you go out more, meet new people.”

Her dark eyes bore into your face. You could feel your own pulse in your tummy. “I know,” you confessed with a strangled tone. “I’ve gotten better. I no longer think about him, you know?”

This was the reason why you had been dodging your best friend’s calls. Or cancelling plans at the last minute. This conversation was one you had been putting off for far to long but could no longer keep inside you.

“Good,” she sighed with relief, her heart-shaped face lit up with a kindness that warmed you up. “And how do you feel?”

“I feel… I used to feel angry. At him. For failing his promise to me,” you pursed your lips, swallowing hard as your voice dropped. “But now I just feel like I’m letting it go. I think that things had to happen like that for a reason.”

“He did you a kindness,” she nodded with a wise expression on her face.

You huffed. Kindness is not the word you would use. In fact, you could not come up with words to use to describe what he did to you.

“Seriously,” she insisted, straightening on her seat. “Imagine you got married! Then you would have been a loser’s wife!”

That elicited a genuine chuckle out of you. “True.”

“Not only that, but you would’ve also gotten divorced. Or who knows. But he spared you the pity of being married to him, divorcing him, or having children with his sorry ass.”

You pondered over her words for a second. Mona was there for you when you broke up with your ex. She was the first person to know the news, dropped everything to be at your doorstep within the hour of that happening.

You were grateful for Mona in more ways than one. She gave you space to grieve when you needed it. You did not even have to say it.

“So, are you going back to that bar some time soon?” she pried, leaving the tail of the cherry on her napkin, a knot neatly tied in the middle.

“Yeah,” you admitted. “I chickened out. I think he did see me, and I don’t want to leave that impression.”

“Do you need back up?” she threw you a cheeky look.

Oh, she knows.

“No, I think I got it,” you reassured. “I’ll just pop in, say hi and that’s it.”

Sundays were the worst for you.

The bustling noise from the bar drowned out the heavy thumping of your heart. Keeping your head down, your eyes darted forth and then down to the glass you kept twirling with your fingers on top of the lacquered, pristine bar top.

Kim Mingyu was busy that night. Prancing side to side behind the bar, a white dishcloth resting on his shoulder. He went to pick up a new order, yanking it from the small printer and pretending to read it.

His chocolate brown eyes lifted, locking on you. With a nervous jolt in your chest, you looked at your hands again, grabbing your phone to hopefully distract yourself from the awkward but swift exchange.

“I know you.”

You drew in a breath, jolting so hard that somehow your hands pushed your drink, making some of it spill on the polished surface. “God,” you exhaled in both embarrassment and surprise.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kim Mingyu blurted, grabbing the cloth from this shoulder and pressing it on the spilled drink. “Shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you like that.”

“No, it’s okay,” you blurted, equally nervous as him. “You caught me off guard.”

“You know what they say,” he said, pressing his lips into a smile and discarding the cloth elsewhere, setting the palms of his hands on the edge of the bar top. “People with naughty thoughts in their heads get scared easily.”

“Nobody says that,” you raised your eyes from his hands to meet his face, his smile had grown, showing now the beautiful fangs that crowned it.

“I'm pretty sure I’ve heard it before somewhere,” he tilted his head to one side.

“Or maybe you just made it up,” you arched one eyebrow.

“Maybe,” he conceded, biting his lower lip to try and hide his shy smile.

A wave of warm embarrassment washed over your face, but you found yourself smiling at the man. “It’s been a long time.”

“So you do remember me.”

“Of course I do,” you replied with a meek smile burning your cheeks.

“Then why didn't you just say hi?” he replied with some faux indignation, pursing his lips into a pout. “I thought you hadn’t recognized me and that’s why you freaked out and left.”

“You didn't say hi either,” you shrugged, shaking your head lightly when you realized it was a bad excuse. “And it hasn’t been that many years, Mingyu,” you giggled. “Of course I remember you.”

The low chuckle that came from him ignited many memories from the past. “Really? Haven’t I changed? Not even a little?”

You rolled your eyes. The very last memories you had from Kim Mingyu were when you were still in high school. Even after many years, he kept the kind smile and bright eyes, the dark long hair. The only different thing about him was that he looked huge now.

He crossed his arms, waiting patiently for your answer. It was funny to you that even when his biceps bulged beneath his black t-shirt impressively, the starry eyes brought that boyish charm he has always had.

“Nope,” you said, shaking your head slowly. “Still the same.”

“But you have changed,” he remarked, nodding his head once. You blinked at him dumbly, so he just added: “Your hair is longer. Braces are gone.”

You let out a chuckle, enjoying how the features of his face went lax at the sound of your laughter, much as if he were holding in a breath until the moment that he made you laugh.

“Spot on,” you mumbled awkwardly, grabbing your empty glass.

It was totally the opposite, though. You feel like you had lost half of your younger self when you entered your twenties. The baby fat from your face was long gone, your skin was leagues better after the brutal hormonal changes. And your body of course was not the same… there were some improvements.

“Sorry, let me refill that for you,” he quickly got to work, pulling out a new glass, filling it back up, and with one move, he slipped it into your hand. “One whisky sour.”

“Thanks,” you pressed your lips in a shy smile.

You watched as he parted his lips, pausing for a second before speaking out, until another voice, a powerful one, boomed from across the bar.

“Kim Mingyu! Get to work!”

He straightened up as if mentally being whipped by the firmness of the command. The man who called was leaning back against a pool table, arms crossed on his chest. But instead of wearing a frown on his face, there was a broad smile in it.

“Ah! Shit, I’m sorry,” he replied in a nervous stammer, wincing when the man handling the bar alongside him slapped him on one shoulder.

“Focus, Min,” the guy who slapped him playfully smiled in a mischievous way, directing a swift glance at you and pursed his lips to keep himself from smiling any wider.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” he repeated, shooting an annoyed look at the guy and rolled his eyes at him. “I thought you had it for a minute.”

“Yeah, I did,” he shrugged. “But you don’t get paid to flirt. Plus, boss is watching,” the man pressed his lips into a sly smile.

“I’m not flirting–hyung,” Mingyu widened his eyes, gritting: “She is a friend.”

“Hi,” you raised one hand at the pair of bartenders, waving at them. “I’m a friend.”

“Oops, I’m sorry,” the tall man adjusted the watch sitting on his wrist before waving back at you. “Jeon Wonwoo. Also a friend.”

“Flatmate,” Mingyu gibed with faux dismissal.

 “So I’m not your friend anymore?” Wonwoo clicked his tongue, raising his eyebrows. “Good luck with flirting again on the clock without having boss complaining.”

“I wasn’t flirting!” Mingyu whined, grabbing the upcoming order expelled by the little printer behind him.

“Since I’ve been downgraded to just being a flatmate, I’m going to take a break,” he announced with an overly dramatic tone of indignation.

Mingyu’s jaw dropped in a sign of it being unjust. “Hyung!”

“I trust you can handle the bar on your own?” Wonwoo said, undoing the knot tying his waist apron that was previously wrapping him from the waist and left through the back door.

“Tsk,” Mingyu huffed, but then, despite his situation, he smiled widely. “I’m sorry about that,” he offered you a kind look. “He’s just teasing me. Please don’t mind him.”

“It seems like all of your co-workers like teasing you,” you pointed meekly, darting a look towards the other two people standing over the end of the bar.

Mingyu shot a look back, finding the girl that had welcomed you some nights ago, standing beside a tall man of pale blond hair. Both exchanged a smile, looking giddy.

“Tsk, aah,” Mingyu shook his head, and the couple laughed. “Don’t mind them,” he pleaded, resuming to focus back on his work, though part of you assumed that he was too embarrassed to face you.

So, you watched as he busied himself taking orders, handing them out to the pretty girl tending the tables. You continued sipping on your drink, distractedly looking at your phone and sending him glances, noticing that he too was looking at you. Every now and then, he would just shake his head at her in disapproval, which she ignored with a wide smile on her face.

Whenever he tried to stop in front of you to chat, he would be quickly swept away by a new order, or someone would call his name, and he would excuse himself with a quiet apology and a shy smile.

Later, the man that introduced himself to you as Jeon Wonwoo returned to the bar, slapping Mingyu on the shoulder to draw his attention. They exchanged some words, Mingyu looked aback for a second and the other pouted, mouthing: “I don’t know,” and shrugging with ease.

“Hey,” Mingyu came to you after thanking his friend. “Wanna get out of here?”

“Eh?” you tilted your head to one side, the question making your stomach drop.

“So we can catch up,” Mingyu let out a sweet giggle, realizing how his question sounded. “I’m getting kicked out for the night.”

Your eyes widened in bewilderment. “Oh, Mingyu, I’m sorry, that is not what–,”

“Relax,” he sighed. “My flatmate is covering me. He owed me one.”

“Oh,” you blurted. In that case…

“It’s been a while.”

Mingyu hummed thoughtfully, casting a look at the night sky. “Uh, eleven–ten, ten years?” he calculated.

You were exiting the bar, walking down the side of the street after you told him you were just gearing up to head home already, and he kindly offered to walk you home. “Yep. Ten years.”

“Wow,” he sighed. “We’re getting old.”

You braced yourself for one of those talks. As you entered the second half of your twenties, things got a little awkward for you. Once you would think they were stuff of fiction, something you would only see in romantic comedies or in tv shows: characters see the people surrounding their lives getting married, going on dates, honeymoons, having children while they remain a perpetual loner.

Now, you could not relate to that more.

But Mingyu was a person who did not care for those things. Even when you were both seventeen. He did not care for material things, or superficial things.

“Yeah. A little.”

You drew in a breath through your nose. The night was cold, and you could tell in the summer’s breeze that it would rain later. 

“I saw that you went in that fancy college,” he mentioned and then laughed. “And then you disappeared off the face of the earth.”

“Yeaaah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “I sort off eliminated all of my social media,” you frowned, remembering the reason why you had done that.

“I get it, it’s exhausting,” he shrugged.

“Did you go into that fancy college?” you returned, remembering Mingyu in those days in which he used to talk about the future, whenever you went out with your friend group. You remembered thinking that he had a bright future ahead of him whenever he would talk about studying mechanical engineering.

“Nah,” he clicked his tongue. “I quit those plans once I started working and making money. So, I’m not a mechanical engineer,” he let out a lazy giggle.

“Mmn,” you nodded. “Yeah, that happens. I’m not a graphic designer.”

“Why?” he frowned. “That’s all you talked about with your friends!”

You looked at him, perplexed to know that Kim Mingyu ever paid attention to you. Within your friend group, you were the least he had in common with. So even when you crossed paths, you never talked to each other aside from small friendly stuff.

“I started working as a translator… Started making money,” you sent him a knowing look.

“Yeah, I get it,” he chuckled. “But do you enjoy it at least?”

“Of course,” you smiled, though you could not ignore the way that your heartbeat faltered. “I work independently, though I do rent an office not far from here actually…” you said, pointing to the street where you were about to turn.

“Nice! I live in the area too, so maybe we’ll run into each other one day,” he mentioned.

“It’s nice to know I have a friendly neighbor,” you smiled. “I just moved here.”

“Oh, then let me show you around some day!” his eyes lit up. “There are a ton of places you probably don’t know of, like the bakery on the next alley, or the coffee shop right next to it, they serve really good breakfasts.”

“That would be nice,” you grinned.

Mingyu showed you a toothy grin, pausing in his step so you could catch up to him since he moved faster than you.

“Hey, about what happened back at the bar,” he motioned a finger to the bar. “I’m sorry about that. My friends can be a bit of dickheads.”

“No, it’s alright, I get it,” you shrugged. “A bit of in-work bantering can lighten up the shift sometimes,” you put simply.

“That and the fact that they have been teasing me for a while now. They try hard to distract me,” he rolled his eyes. But realizing how he came off, he added. “I had a nasty breakup not too long ago. It’s like they think I’m going to break soon. It’s annoying.”

“Can I ask how it happened?” you wondered, feeling your heartbeat falter when you finish uttering the words to a question that perhaps, might be too daring.

Kim Mingyu dug his hands in the pockets of his black denim jeans, sucking in a breath between his teeth. He pushed his shoulders up, that was when you noticed that the chill in the summer air was finally starting the get to him.

“She got into a new job,” he started, his eyes set far ahead on the way in front of you. “At the beginning, I thought that she was just happy from getting her big job. But then, she started saying things.”

As you walked beside him, you tried to keep your eyes trained on the tall man, but then he blinked rapidly, dropping his puppy eyes to his feet.

“She'd say things about my job,” he swallowed hard, and you could almost feel the pain he felt upon remembering. “I thought nothing of it at first, thought she was encouraging me to get a job with higher pay but...”

You nodded, and he sent you a glance in understanding. He did not need to say more about it, and he probably did not want to repeat the hurtful comments.

“And then,” he continued, and his tone dropped: “She started talking about her boss.”

He shook his head silently and exhaled through his nose, lifting his gaze up to the night sky.

“Time passed and the comments got meaner, she started ghosting me and I thought of breaking things off,” he swallowed hard once again, as if trying to mask his pain with it. “I got a call one day from a friend, telling me they saw her entering a restaurant with another man,” you saw him turn his hands into fists inside his pockets. “I guess she forgot that I had the day off that day, so she never thought I'd be waiting for her outside her apartment.”

“Did she...” you blurted out, your heart palpitating in your ears. You braced yourself to hear it, because you knew from before that his pain and yours were too alike.

“Yeah,” he croaked, blinking for a long second. “For weeks.”

“God, I’m so sorry,” you covered your mouth with one hand. “I'm sorry, Mingyu.”

“I'm alright,” he shrugged once more, nodding as if to himself. “I think I'm grateful for her mean attitude towards me because in a way she softened the blow, but it still hurts.”

“I know,” you conceded. “It isn’t easy.”

However, you were raging inside. Some nights, the worst ones, you wonder what you did wrong to deserve everything that your ex did to you. The broken promises, the lies, the ghosting, your trust being brutally shattered.

“The worst thing is the shame,” he sent a glance at you, dragging his foot on the concrete to kick one rock that stood in the way of the park.

You nodded in silence.

“I never told my friends,” he confessed, his eyes were outlining the tree branches. “When it happened, I just told them that she was the one who broke up with me... I've never told them the truth.”

“You are not obligated to,” you muttered, a cold shudder added to your already chilled body making you pause.

“I just couldn't do it,” he muttered. “And the reason isn’t to protect her image, though at the beginning I thought it was… I just don’t want to the pity.”

You crossed your arms close to your chest. “And how are you now?”

“I’m okay,” he said with a reassuring tone. “I like to think that I’ve let it go already.”

Something made your tummy twist. You were familiar with the feeling, but decided not to mention it, since you felt that your past with your ex was no longer relevant.

“I’m sorry,” Mingyu said.

You frowned at him. “What for?”

“For dumping all of this on you, I shouldn’t have done that.”

You realized that as you walked down the park, that you had remained quiet, and perhaps Mingyu mistook your silence for something other than you just pondering about how familiar his situation was to yours.

“Oh, please no, don’t worry, Mingyu,” you showed him a kind smile.

“I don’t want to bother you with that. I just…” he scratched his neck absentmindedly. “I had never talked about this with anyone, and the words just flew out of my mind, you know?”

You nodded; you knew that all too well. “It’s okay, Gyu,” you insisted. “I’m not bothered. I don’t think it’s wrong to talk about that. After all, it is part of you, and I asked because I was curious.”

Mingyu looked at you for a long second. “I appreciate that,” he kissed his own lower lip, nodding in gratitude. “Thanks for hearing me out.”

“Hey, it’s nothing. You’re walking me home, so consider us even,” you pointed.

“You owe me nothing for that,” he pouted slightly, pausing his step in the middle of the basketball court you both were crossing to get to the other side of the neighborhood.

“I’m just saying,” you shrugged. “Since you were kind to me, I guess what I can do is listen to your woes,” you added playfully.

“My woes,” he grinned, clicking his tongue. “Really? You’re a tease,” he insisted, his eyes spotting something on the far corner of the court.

He sprinted towards the forgotten ball, grabbing it with one hand and started to bounce it as he walked back to you.

“Remember when we used to do this?” he asked, standing outside the box and turned to look at you, raising his arms with the ball ready on one hand.

Your tummy fluttered at his words. “Course I do, Gyu. It wasn’t that long ago,” you pointed.

He referred to the times when you used to go out in your friend group, you would go to stroll and have picnic nights with booze right next to the river, and then you would go to the park to watch the boys play basketball.

“I feel like seventeen happened forever,” he sighed, confidently throwing the ball which dodged the hoop quite miserably.

You snorted.

Mingyu shot a sullen look at you. “D’you think you can do better than me?” he challenged, but a shy smile drew on his face.

“Oh, most definitely,” you chuckled, but caught the ball with your hands when he passed it to you.

“Right, show me,” he nodded to the hoop.

You grinned, getting ready to shoot your shot. “What do I get if it goes in?”

Mingyu blinked. “You get,” he paused to think. “A round of applause.”

“What?” you gasped.

“A chocolate bar,” he giggled but when you did not reply, he said: “And if you don’t, you’ll get a forehead flick.”

“What, why?” you asked with a faux scandalized tone. “You didn’t get a forehead flick, why should I?”

The giggled that bubbled in his mouth was high and cute at the same time. “Those are the rules.”

“Your rules suck,” you huffed, and finally threw the ball.

It of course, did not go even near the hoop. Mingyu laughed the second that the trajectory of the ball dived before it even went close to the hoop, the sound was so contagious you found yourself resisting to laugh.

“Rules are rules,” he said, locking his middle finger with the pad of his thumb, forming a circle with his joined fingers.

“No, wait—Mingyu!” you squealed then the tip of his middle finger clashed with your forehead, flicking you swiftly. Pain flashed across your skin, but it quickly dissipated, leaving a tingle behind.

“Those were the rules, you agreed!” he giggled again, dodging your hand as you tried to push his shoulders.

“Then you should get one too,” you struggled to keep up with him, every single one of the fists you threw at him dodged quite effortlessly.

“The rules were settled after I threw,” he let out a small squeal when one of your fists nearly collided with his shoulder, but he was still quicker than you.

“Come here you-,” you gasped, your body was neatly trapped in his arms.

Your gaze shot up to find his, overwhelmed by the very pressure of his skin against yours.

“Stay put,” he panted. The tips of his ears were painted red, his eyes had lit up. The smile he wore on his face was just as overwhelming as feeling his big arms surrounding you.

But you sneaked a hand between your bodies, flicking off his forehead with a triumphant smile. “Dummy,” you whispered, a giggle bubbling in your chest. Joy bloomed inside you, warming up your face.

He lifted a hand to rub his forehead, letting you go. “Ack, but you played dirty!” he complained, holding the pads of his fingers to his forehead.

“No, I didn’t, you did,” you remarked, looking at him as he gave you a lazy smile.

“So that’s how it’s going to be,” he kissed his teeth. “I’ll get my revenge on you.”

“Oooh, I’m so scared,” you lifted your hands, flickering them in a scared motion. 

The sky rumbled above you. Mingyu looked up and you followed. “We should get going,” he said.

As you left the park, you made your way along the sidewalk where your building was located. Then a hand came to your waist, gently prompting you to walk along the side of the buildings instead of along the edge of the sidewalk.

The touch was minimal, fleeting. But your mouth went dry, searching his face for any sign that he knew what he had done to you with such an insignificant gesture.

Your heart stammered against your chest, quite uncontrollably, it made it hard for you to breathe properly. You raised your head when you got to your building. “We’re here,” you stepped in the first step of the stairs that led to the door of the building, pausing to look back at his face. “Thank you, Min.”

The smile that drew on his face knocked the air out of your lungs. “You are welcomed,” he said, emphasizing each word adorably.

“I guess I’ll be seeing you,” you muttered awkwardly, hating that he had flustered you with so little and had no idea about it.

“Oh, yes,” he swiftly fished his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “We should exchange numbers, in case there is anything you need.”

You sighed shortly through your nose, a thing he did not notice. “Sure,” you said, pulling out your phone and gave him your number.

“I’m mostly busy at the bar but, maybe we could go out for coffee, so we can catch up properly?” he asked.

That gave you a reason to pause. You were certain that he was not asking you for a date, but why had you become so nervous at the thought of going out with Kim Mingyu?

“Of course, I’d love that,” you grinned. “Goodnight.”

And then you ran into your building. Running away from Mingyu for a second time.

You struggled to get sleep that night.

Staring at the ceiling, you grew more and more restless, and even more aware of the thing that lied beneath your bed, inside one of the drawers of the bed frame.

A long, whiny sigh of resignation spilled from you before you could get a hold of your actions. You rolled to the edge of the bed, flinging an arm over the mattress, and yanking the drawer open. Another sigh as your fingers reached for the pink satin bag and bottle of lube.

Tossing the covers off your already hot and pulsating body, fingers trembling slightly as you pulled the vibrator out of the satin pink bag you kept it in since you bought it. There had been only a couple of times that you had actually touched the pretty toy with your hands. The toy was pink, the material was soft, thick, and just about enough inches long to satisfy you. Or so you hoped.

Unsure as to how to go about this, you thought of removing just the lower part of your sleeping clothes, including your panties. Breathing hard, and feeling hot in the face and neck, you lied on your pillows, staring at the ceiling.

Your heart was banging fast against your ribcage, as if it wanted to get out. You liked your lips, before grabbing the bottle of lube you had tossed beside you and pumped the cold, thick lube on your fingers, gently applying it between your pussy lips.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth upon the chilly contact against your warmth. But wasted no time, grabbing the pink rabbit dildo from your sheets and holding the button with your thumb.

It came to life with rapid vibrations, the buzzing sound made you jolt in your bed again. But mustering some courage, you brought the tip in, pushing it inside your entrance gently at first. The fast mechanic motions of the vibrator made it hard to concentrate, or to even get pleasure out of it.

Your eyes outlined the edges of the ceiling, anxiously pushing a few more inches inside your needy walls. The thickness of the dildo made your mouth part, releasing a tiny moan of both pain and from feeling your pussy stretching and pulsating around it.

Slowly, you familiarized yourself with the feeling of it, and you grew to like it as the seconds went by and you found a mode that felt good. Your body responded naturally, coming alight with the mechanic patterns of the vibrator massaging your walls. You pushed it all the way inside you, to the part that met your clit.

A strangled moan came out of you, letting your body be submerged in a puddle of pleasure. You sank your head back onto your pillows and spread your legs more so that the dildo reached deeper inside your walls.

It was electrifying. You felt your muscles tighten, your legs burn and begin to tremble, you turned your head to muffle a moan in your pillow and closed your eyes.

Behind your eyelids, you saw him. You saw his tall frame, the beautiful way that he moved. You saw the outline of his lean torso, the t-shirt clinging onto his abdomen. The way he smiled when he noticed your eyes on him, winking at you knowingly.

The way that every nerve in your body sizzled when he laid his hand on your waist. The memory only contributed to the pleasure blooming inside your body, pushing you closer to the edge.

You slowly succumbed to waves of pleasure washing over you, you moaned and thrashed but made no attempt to pull out the vibrator continuing to pleasure you, taking you to the edge. Your orgasm became brutal, fast fiery waves consuming you, tearing through you.

It was hard to ignore the urge to remember his large hand on you, the way he lowered his gaze to meet yours, his seductive smile. You wanted his hands on you, all over you.

A series of airy moans resounded across the walls, you arched your back from the bed, legs shaking uncontrollably, the burning feeling spreading from your throbbing walls to every corner of your aching body.

You held in a breath, putting an end to your implacable moans. The intense feeling coursing through your body making it harder to stop, so when a warm and wet gush came out of you, your thumb pressed the off button, realizing that you had just wet the bed.

Breathless, and shaking, you sat up on the bed, looking at the wet spot in your bed sheets. It was the first time you squirted, the first time you even felt pleasure so abundantly like this. You pondered over how you had to resort to thinking about Mingyu to achieve your climax.

With a sigh, you gathered yourself, cleaning your bed, yourself, and your toys before throwing your ruined bed sheets in the washing machine. You placed new ones and tucked yourself back in and stared at the ceiling.

Though you were completely languid at the time, your vision faded to black, falling into a deep slumber but one thought remained.

I think I’ll accept that coffee.

Easier said than done.

As the following Monday rolled around, you fidgeted with the sleeves of your large hoodie as you approached the door of Casa Pump House. Nerves wrecked up in your system when you pushed the door open using your electronic key.

It had been some days since you saw Mingyu. Some nights since you dared to touch yourself thinking of him. And you were trying your best to keep him out of your mind. Utterly ashamed, you did not even want to think of what you had done.

Because you had enjoyed it.

In the back of your mind, a tiny voice begged for you to visit The Spot again. Whenever you went to the convenience store, a flashing thought warned you that you might run into him there. Or at the gym, even.

“Heyyyy,” Jungkook rasped, elongating the word. “You have been MIA.”

“Yeah,” you mumbled awkwardly. “Stomach flu.”

He made a face. “Ew. You’re good now?”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t ew me,” you gibed. “Yeah, I’m good.”

But Jungkook did not know the stomach flu had a name, and you have been doing everything to not cross paths with him. So why were you at the gym, knowing full well that you could potentially run into him around that time?

“You’re here early,” he pointed, leaning his head to one side.

“It’s noon already!” you quipped.

“That’s early for you,” he remarked. “You always come here when I’m leaving.”

“Well, I missed you so I thought I could come here earlier to see your face,” you returned.

“You know what, I’ll take that. I missed your silly face too,” he said, smirking triumphantly.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes.

“Well,” he clasped his hands together, comically drawing in his eyebrows in a deep-set frown. “Let’s get to work, twinkie.”

“What did you just call me?” you demanded at him.

“Twinkie,” he shrugged, motioning a finger at your body. “You look squishy, like a cute twinkie.”

“Hey!” you frowned, pointing a finger at him impishly. “And you look like you were left alone with a sharpie started doodling on your skin.”

His mouth parted in a tiny o. “Touché.”

You giggled. “Okay, let’s get to work,” you rolled your eyes in resignation.

“Let’s start with some warmup,” he nodded to the elliptical machines behind you. “Ten minutes. And then you are going to do RDLs, okay?”

“Okaaaaay,” you mumbled, reluctantly taking your body to the elliptical machine.

You climbed the steps, pressing buttons to see what made the machine start. Once you found the button that made it work, you started moving. You dove into the pocket of your hoodie, looking for your earbuds and your phone to distract yourself from the monotony of the gym.

“Hands out of your pockets!” Jungkook yelped, a second later you saw the man rushing to your side. “You’re gonna get squished, twinkie.”

“Stop calling me that,” you giggled with embarrassment.

“I will when you get a nickname for me that suits me,” he negotiated.

“God, you’re terrible at flirting,” you pointed with a laugh.  

“I’m not flirting,” he chuckled, awkwardly moving away from you.

You let out a puffy breath, drawing out your earbuds out of your pocket.

“Mingyuuuu, it has been ages!” Jungkook chanted, his voice resounding across the lonely gym.

Your stomach twisted, an anxious rush of blood barrelling throughout your body. Your gaze snapped around the place, finding Jungkook pressing his phone to his ear. “This Friday? Uh, yeah, maybe I could. Let me check and I’ll let you know, okay? Okaaay.”

It could be anyone else, you reasoned, placing the earbuds inside your earholes with embarrassment controlling your body. However, it seemed all too likely that it was the same Kim Mingyu on the phone. After all, Jungkook and Mingyu seemed like the kind of goofballs that would get along.

 A probability that you did not want to find out yet.

As you continued your best to follow your routine, something had damaged it. And it was not that you were still ashamed of yourself. Or that you were still flustered about your last encounter with Mingyu.

The realization that you could feel something other than monotony. From the moment you broke things off with your ex, everything felt the same, tasteless, colorless. And you knew that you had put in the work to break out of that dullness in your life, you went out more, you were meeting new people.

But nothing compared to that night. And you found out that you wanted more.

However, it was not easy. You had drowned yourself in work in order to keep avoiding it. So there you were, trapped in your little office you rented for yourself, working yourself to exhaustion so that you could just get back home and sleep immediately.

You turned off the computer after reading the clock that it was three in the morning already. So you grabbed your phone, and your apartment keys and went out of the building.

Damn you, summer rains.

They always came when you least expect it, in the blink of an eye. The air felt so hot as you went out of your office that you could barely walk outside, but then the rain was pouring over you with no notice.

Walking down the sidewalk in working shoes was not the best idea. In fact, you were heavily contemplating removing them and just going back home barefoot.

You came to a reluctant halt in the middle of the deserted sidewalk, as heavy droplets of water fell on your face, on the back of your head as you stared at your shoes, getting wetter and wetter as you pondered over your dilemma.

“Lost something?”

Taking one big gulp of air, you shot a look across the sidewalk, only to find Kim Mingyu standing, wearing his usual attire for work. The features of his face looked relaxed despite the heaviness with which he approached you, carrying his fatigue in his limbs with each step.

His white T-shirt began to accumulate wet spots on his shoulders and chest. His cheeks were wet, as was his long messy hair.

You gaped at him in question. The dilemma occupying your brain dissipated into the void, quickly replaced by the shock of seeing him after days of keeping him at arm’s length without failure.

“Hi there,” he muttered once he stood one step before you.

“Hi,” you smiled, having to tilt your head to find his face.

“You’ve been gone,” he said with some air of urgency, much as if he did not want to lose you at some lazy excuse on your part. “I was starting to wonder that you didn’t want to hang out anymore.”

You hated his straightforwardness sometimes. “Sorry,” you scrunched up your nose in discomfort, receiving more fat droplets of water on your face. “I needed some me time.”

“Then you should’ve just said so, dummy,” he pointed, rolling his eyes at you as if his point were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I struggle to say things sometimes,” you retorted in a whiny tone. “Look, I’d love to continue this conversation but we’re literally just soaking in the middle of the street.”

Mingyu raised his eyebrows, as though he had not noticed the rain pouring down on both of you. “I’ll walk you home,” he motioned in the opposite direction from which he was previously coming.

And with that, he turned around and started to walk down the street.

You fell into step at his side, struggling to keep his steady pace. “Slow down,” you exhaled.

“Right,” he giggled sweetly. “Short legs.”

“Shut up,” you readjusted the strap of your bag on your shoulder. “You just walk really fast.”

“Because I’m taller than you, my legs are longer,” he motioned to his legs, taking one big step that amounted to three of yours.

“Well, then walk slower, please,” you huffed with exhaustion already building up in your feet.

Mingyu noticed, still looking at your face as he walked. “Fine, sorry,” he conceded. “Are you just clocking off work?”

You nodded, noticing your ponytail heavier now that your hair was soaking. “I wanted to finish everything before the weekend.”

“It’s three in the morning,” he gasped in dramatic reprimand.

“Don’t give me that look,” you frowned, pointing a finger at him. “I could say the same to you! You also just clocked off.”

“But that is normal for my job! What you do is not something specifically for night hours,” he argued, matching your tone.

“What do you know about what I do?” you tried to argue but a smile fought to curve your lips. “I could hold office hours specifically from 11 pm to 3 am,” you giggled impishly.

“Ah, really you are…” he rolled his eyes but shook the thought from his head. “Could you finish?”

Droplets of water slid down the bridge of his nose, dropping from the tip and onto his cupid’s bow. You remembered the cute little beauty mark sitting on the tip of his nose. You wanted to kiss it.

It took you one second to understand what he was implying. “Oh, yes, I did,” you stammered, crossing your arms over your chest.

But Mingyu did not notice the meaning behind your gaze. “That’s good,” he nodded, pressing his lips together.

The short spasm returned in your chest, making you tear your eyes from his face and keep walking beside him, staring at the sidewalk.

“How was work tonight?” you returned the question, trying to get as much light conversation as you could without falling into the deep craving tugging in your insides.

“It was alright,” he shrugged. “Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“What would that look like?” you ventured.

“Ah, well, drunk people tend to be funny,” he showed you a toothy grin. “One guy celebrated his birthday at the bar one night, and after a few drinks he lost control, went insane,” he laughed in the memory of it. “He started thinking he was an idol, he requested a song and got on a top of the bar and started dancing.”

His laugh was contagious, you could not help but respond with a giggle of your own. “Oh, no, that sounds embarrassing. What did you do?”

“He lost his balance and fell to the floor,” his smile vanished, shuddering slightly. “He broke his nose, I had to call an ambulance,” he finished the story, scratching his nape absentmindedly.

“That’s not how I thought the story would end. Talk about a night to remember,” you huffed awkwardly.

“Well that is one story of many,” his eyes widened slightly.

“But you like it?” you raised your eyebrows. “D-do you like your job?”

“I do,” he reaffirmed with a nod.

The rain had completely succeeded at soaking your clothes, your button shirt felt cold against your skin, and your jeans were tight and damp, it was starting to get hard to move.

Whereas you felt like a wet ragged doll, Mingyu looked like a supermodel. His long dark hair was dripping wet onto his beautiful face. His white T-shirt was clinging to the muscles of his body, letting you view the well-defined lines of his abdomen.

“Were here already?” Mingyu asked when you came to a halt in front of your building.

“Yeah,” you said distractedly, sending him a look as you opened the door to the inside of the building, welcomed by the smell of humidity and dust. “Don’t just stand there.”

The man followed you inside without much insistence. You started machining in your brain your next movements while climbing the first flight of stairs to the door of your apartment, which you opened with a shaky hand.

You staggered awkwardly against the door frame, trying to keep your chin up to hold his gaze. One hand brushed the worn edges of the frame, resting on it as you caught your breath. Mingyu noticed your eyes this time around. And you almost did not want to realize that his eyes were on your body as well.

“Do you want to come in?” you asked meekly, darting a look at the dark interior of your apartment, aside from the little lamp you always left on when you went out. “I can make something to eat. And lend you a towel, fresh clothes, maybe.”

Much to your fortune, the man nodded with his head. “If you want,” he mumbled, so you slid back inside your apartment for him to follow inside. “Though I’d have to reject the clothes,” reluctantly, he strolled inside your haven, looking at the abandoned big frame and leaning against the hallway wall.

“Why?” you asked, still walking backward as he paced before you.

“Because they might not fit me,” he chuckled, his smile knocking the air out of your lungs.

“What do you know, I could have something that might,” you smirked, getting him a towel you had discarded earlier in the morning.

He gave you a light gesture of gratitude with his head, thanks, he mouthed before pressing the towel to his face.

“Do you…” you hesitated. “Can I offer you something?”

He sneaked a look at you with the towel pressed to the lower half of his face.

“Like water?” you suggested with a sheepish smile. “I have ramen–and rice in the fridge.”

He contemplated you as you swayed your body on the balls of your feet ever so gently. “You don’t need to do that,” he finally replied.

“It’s just food, Mingyu. You walked home with me,” you shrugged, motioning to the kitchen, your fingers grazing the rim of the dining table.

The man took one step towards you, making your step stutter. “I mean that,” he smiled. “You don’t have to repay nothing, shorty. That’s what friends are for.”

You stumbled against the edge of your dining table, a gasp leaving your lips that you quickly tried to replace with a muffled chuckle. “You know, I could say the same thing.” 

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

“What?” you breathed, completely perplexed by both the proximity and the question. “Ke-keep what up?”

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed,” he muttered gruffly, pushing you to lean back against the dining table without laying one finger on you. He was just so close to you that you had no room to breathe.

“Noticed what? Mingyu–,” you giggled in utter shyness when he knowingly smiled at you. The blood rushing to your face made your skin tingle, you bit your lower lip.

“Am I making you nervous?” his voice dropped, his dark eyes reading the features of your face with avid curiosity.

“Yes,” you admitted, leaning back with your hands gripping the wooden rim of the table as he towered over you. “I like you, Kim Mingyu.”

His triumphant smile crushed your heart with its beauty. Damn you, Kim Mingyu.

“I like you too,” he whispered, leaning closer, the smile fading softly as you stopped moving back.

“Mingyu,” you whispered, hating how much you were flustered at his confession, your voice waning.

Mingyu paused, but it was not out of hesitance, his gaze swimming on your features quickly softened once you dared to reach out to him. Using the proximity of your bodies, you found his face with your hands, realizing how warm his skin was.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, nodding slightly with his head. Mingyu wanted this too.

You are not sure what happened, if you moved first or he did. You closed your eyes, breath hitching as his lips touched yours, your skin coming to life with a fiery rush of blood. From pressing his lips against your own, he quickly moved to kiss you deeper, using one hand on your chin to tilt your face to him.

Your heart stammered in your chest, his hand returning to park in your waist. Friends don’t kiss, you wanted to tell him.

Who were you kidding, you had never wanted someone like you wanted Mingyu.

But this is wrong, you thought over and over again.

“Mingyu,” you breathed when his fingers on your chin tilted your head for him to kiss the underside of your jaw, slowly pressing his lips twice.

“Mn?” he hummed really close to your skin, so you felt his short sigh, his breath brushing your skin.

“We should stop,” you brought a hand to the middle of his chest, feeling his hard pecs beneath your palm.

“Why? Am I doing something wrong?” he asked, backing away from you so he could take a look at your face.

“No, not at all,” you said, short of breath, rigid in your muscles in a weak attempt to resist what you wanted to do.

“Okay, if you want to stop, then we stop,” he offered with a kind tone, slowly following your gaze as you palmed his chest over his t-shirt.

“I- I mean if we do this…” you stammered, feeling stupid. “I don’t want us to change.”

A toothy grin spread on his lips. “How would this change us?” he shot a look to your eyes then your lips.

“I don’t want to cross a line we can’t come back from,” you explained, still not letting go of him.

He stilled completely; you saw it in his eyes when he started to craft a plan. “You draw the line.”

“Mingyu…” you whispered, your lips pouting around the last sound of his name.

This was not the same as playing basketball in the middle of the night with him. This could potentially tilt your world upside down. He did not know yet the way he made you feel just by being around you.

“You can draw it here if you want,” he offered, his tone was nothing but kind.

A smile stretched your lips slowly. He made things harder for you like this. Letting you be the one to choose was dangerous, if not stupid. But he did not know.

“I don’t want you to look at me differently,” you quivered. It was still hard to breathe since he was still within arm’s reach. Your hand lingered still right on top of his heart.

“I won’t,” he whispered back, gesturing a no with his head slightly. “I promise.”

Mingyu did not know that you were all too familiar with the pain that he carried. Even if he were not hurting at that moment, you knew what he was going through.

Mingyu looked at you as if he had just dipped into the stream of your thoughts but were left unbeknownst to your actual insecurities. “You’re safe with me,” he mumbled, offering you the ghost of a smile.

You thought of all the nights you wished for something like this to happen. The moments you wished to get a touch, to feel what you felt the first time he placed his hands on you.

Mingyu grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you off your feet and placing you on the small dining table. He did this carefully, but you could sense that he wanted you in a position where he could kiss your face freely. His hands held your face lightly, while he continued pressing kisses on your lips, your cheeks.

This time, as he dives back in your lips, his tongue brushes against yours, lightly at first but enough to elicit a throaty moan from you. The frenzy pulsing in your throat turns into a warmth, blooming from your neck to your face.

He realized you liked that, and tried it one more time, his tongue lingering on the tip of yours before he pulled back. “I should go now,” he whispered, the pad of his thumb caressing your chin gently. “Or I won’t be able to stop.”

You grabbed his wrist. “Wait,” you breathed. “Please don’t. Don’t go. I don’t want you to leave.”

Did you want him? Or did you just not want to spend the night alone, wondering about him?

Mingyu seemed to desist, much as if the rigidness that he used to command himself away from your body had dissolved once he heard your plea. You caught sight of his throat bobbing when he gulped hard, searching your features as if he would find what to say in them.

“Stay the night with me,” you blurted uncontrollably.

“Sure,” he replied, grabbing the edges of the dining table as though he were withholding the urge to touch you again.

“Do you want to, Mingyu?” you asked, reluctant about his general lack of resistance to your offer.

He smiled as he tilted his head to one side. “I would’ve said no if I didn’t want to,” he raised his eyebrows in question. “If I stay, I do want to know one thing. Are you sure about this?”

Before you uttered the same quippy response he gave you, the flashing thought of sabotaging yourself crossed your mind. He knew this. Mingyu knew that you had a tendency to be a people pleaser, of trying to make everyone happy.

“I am,” you reassured, and it was the final blow to what little self-control you had left. “I want you, Mingyu.”

The words caused an impact on him. He breathed in slowly, but his eyes widened ever so slightly, shooting up a glance to your features. His eyes lit up, his beautiful lips curving in a small, but shy smile.

Finally admitting that aloud, and to him also caused something within you. Your pulse quickened, followed by a heat rushing inside you, stretching so far that it reached the tips of your fingers, commanding them to his face.

The pads of your fingers touched the line of his jaw in a gentle caress, urging him back to your lips before you could say something even more damming to your soul. The stammering of your heart was distracting, telling you to let go of this man before he could hurt himself in the tumultuous and dark path that led to your heart.

But you could not. Take the risk, the words echoed in the back of your mind.

“Mingyu,” you blurted, parting from his lips. “Couch, sit.”

You heard an airy chuckle left him as he broke away from the kiss, walking back and blindly falling on the couch, not bothering to look around to make sure where he was heading. You jumped from the dining table, crossing the space to follow him.

His hands pulled you in, his grip on your waist coming back to command you to sit on top of him, which you did willingly, pressing one knee on the couch, then the other, framing Mingyu’s thighs.

Now that you were straddling, a tiny voice in the back of your mind wanted to pull the breaks, but your hands found his face again, your palms caressing his cheeks as you slid your fingers in his long dark hair, brushing it back before sinking your lips in his.

His hands roved your back, starting from your waist up, his fingers getting caught in your hair when he reached your shoulder blades, pressing on your skin over your dress shirt. Your hands went around the back of his head, sliding down to find his thick neck.

Your tongue rolled inside his mouth, swiping a line on his lower lip in the process. Your body came alight with a shudder when a raspy moan coiled around his throat, you felt it beneath your fingertips.

A soft wet sound bubbled between your lips and his when you stopped kissing him, pausing for air. You thought of what to say, resting your forehead on his.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asked.

Every inch of your skin tickled when you heard how gruff his voice had turned. You nodded with your head.

“Yes,” you replied. “You? What do you want, Mingyu?”

The inner corners of his eyebrows twitched ever so slightly, but you noticed it. The question caught him off guard as if that had not been a consideration before. It broke you.

“I don’t want to stop,” he said with a sigh. But realizing that he only half answered your question, he added: “I want you. I’ll go as far as you let me.”

The tiny voice grew more alarmed, but you ignored it besottedly running the pads of your fingers to brush back a rebellious strand of hair back from his face. Mingyu was beautiful, the most beautiful man you have ever seen. But the pull you felt for him went beyond the physical. You needed him.

“Take control, baby,” he whispered.

And you obliged. The strangled sound that bubbled inside you was almost foreign to you. You were on his lips again, kissing him hungrily like you had never kissed someone else before. His hands grabbed your hips, bringing you impossibly closer to his body, pushing your chest flush against his.

You palmed his chest, appreciating the warmth radiating from him with a low hum, which he reciprocated, his hands daring to move farther down your back, cupping your ass and pulling you down on him, pushing your crotch against his.

“Mingyu,” you whimpered in his mouth. You grounded your hips on him, replicating the motion by swaying your hips back and forth on him once, then twice.

“Fuck,” he blurted, then shut his eyes tightly. “Sorry, sorry.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, continuing to ground your hips on him, rubbing yourself on the hard bulge beneath his blue jeans. “Do you like this?”

“Yeah, yes, baby,” he rasped. “But I want you to feel good, shorty. C-can I move you to the bed?” he shuddered.

You stopped grinding on him. “Sure-,” you gasped. Before you could finish your sentence, Mingyu was rising to his feet, scooping you up with him.

He giggled softly when you squealed in surprise. “I got you,” he wrapped your body effortlessly, his arms carrying you safely.

Your arms went around his neck by instinct, but he crossed your tiny studio apartment faster than your brain could even process. As he laid you on the mattress, you noticed that he had made sure that only your legs were hanging on the edge of the bed.

Mingyu placed a hand on the mattress, right next to your shoulder, then the other. “Stop me if you don’t like anything at all,” he muttered, climbing on top of you, and lowering his hips to meet yours.

He was heavy—heavier than you had expected or imagined in your most delusional nights. And he was not even lowering his full weight on you.

You swallowed thickly. But recovered when your hands found the hem of his t-shirt. “I want to see you without this,” you toyed with the damp cotton fabric, sending him a look.

Mingyu smiled and pulled back on the mattress, standing on his knees before you. He crossed his arms, grabbing the hem of his t-shirt to pull it up his torso, and off his head, showing his skin unabashedly.

A shudder flashed down your spine. You wondered before what was beneath that t-shirt, but what little you dared to imagine did not compare to the actual beauty he was. Before you could even take the image before you, Mingyu was already leaning over your body, propping a chaste kiss on your lips.

“Fair is fair?” he asked meekly, a thumb brushing over one button of your dress shirt.

“Yeah,” you showed him a smile, realizing you were jittery.

You watched his hand trail down as he undid each button, your shirt parting and slowly revealing the white bra you wore. It was nothing too daring, but it fit you well, accentuating your breasts nicely.

You darted a look at his face. Mingyu finished undoing the buttons of your shirt, his gaze lost in you as he palmed your tummy with a gentle caress to uncover more of your skin to him.

“God, you’re so pretty,” he gasped, leaning to press a hard kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your cheek.

Too astounded to even bring yourself to reply, you whimpered into the kiss, his tongue outlining your lower lip, his hand on your waist inched to your chest, setting your skin on fire. He cupped one of your breasts, groaning in desperation before hiking up the cup of your bra, to touch you freely.

Your hands flew to undo his belt, hastily undoing the button too. “Get up,” you gasped, his thumb swirling your nipple, getting it to pebble, a tingle spreading on your skin beneath his touch.

Mingyu obliged, knowing where you were going before you even made a move. His gaze followed you as you pushed his jeans down, getting rid of them. In two full motions, your dress shirt was discarded on the floor along with your bra before you returned your back to the mattress.

He looked at you like no one else had before. There you were, splayed on your bed beneath him, and he was just taking you in with his gaze, making your heart flutter wildly.

His fingers grazed the skin of your thigh, inching closer to the band of your panties. You trapped his index and middle finger in your hand, his gaze snapping to yours.

“Fair is fair,” you reminded him with a grin.

He stood before your bed wearing a pair of grey boxers only. Pushing the inside of his cheek with his tongue, he sighed shortly. “You played dirty,” he pointed, but he removed his hand from your grasp.

You sat up, stopping him when you shot him a look, wordlessly telling him you wanted to finish undressing him yourself. You enjoyed the look on his face, his features going soft when you ran a finger from his belly button to the band of his boxers.

You palmed the outline of his cock, darting a quick look at his face when you felt the wet patch of precum on the last piece of clothing he wore. When your fingers finally curled around the waistband of his boxers, you could not help but conceal your smile by biting your lower lip.

Mingyu was fully hard, and he was big. A shudder tore through you. He stepped out of his boxers, looking at the bewildered expression on your face as he stood wholly naked, and proudly so.

Before you could even utter a word, he motioned you to lie back once more. You smiled, helping him get rid of your wet and ruined panties, which he yanked down your legs, tossing them to the floor, littered with your and his clothes.

“Gyu,” you whimpered, his lips pressing a sweet kiss on your lower, moving to capture it in a deeper kiss.

“Need you,” he whispered against your skin, his breath hot and quivering slightly as his hands palmed your breasts, his thumbs brushing your perked nipples. “I need you, baby.”

Your hands roamed on his back, feeling the outlines of his hard muscles. “Take me,” you blurted. “I’m right here.”

He placed a kiss on the underside of your jaw, and you tilted your head back for him to kiss your throat. “I want to eat you out,” he husked against the plain of your chest, kissing the swell of your breasts, taking his time with each as you raked your fingers on his scalp. “Can I?”

“God, yes, Mingyu, please,” you gasped, his mouth wrapped around one of your nipples, making you stir your back on your mattress.

Mingyu hummed as he licked your tits, his tongue swirling around your areolas, kissing your nipples and suckling at them. His hands caressed the inner side of your thighs, spreading them open as his mouth trailed down your tummy, kissing your skin, making it prickle.

A moan coiled in your throat. You needed him now. “Hurry,” you blurted with a whine.

Mingyu obeyed wordlessly, getting down on his knees. Kissing your mound, his hands cupping your inner thighs focusing solely on your pussy before diving in, his tongue swiping a broad stroke on your pussy lips, licking you fully. The feeling overwhelmed you at once, and you knew you would not last long.

“God,” you gasped, as he licked your folds sending you a look from between your thighs. The view was so lewd, beating any experience you had ever had in the past in a matter of seconds.

Silence flooded the room, aside from the wet sounds of his mouth on your pussy, licking your folds, and your increased breathing. Your mouth had fallen open, and you forgot to breathe.

His hair tickled your skin, his warm hands holding you down as he licked, suckled, and nipped at your pussy, as though he were getting familiar with it, as though he just wanted to taste if first before moving his tongue to your clit.

And when he did, you knew there was no going back.

A breathy moan escaped, and you drew in a breath again. “Mingyu…” you called after his tongue swirled around your swollen clit. “Do that again,” you asked, your tone whiny and pathetic.

He did not skip a second before doing a figure-eight motion with the tip of his tongue, and again. And again. You wondered if you would come before he grew tired, but then you realized that he was not stopping, nor faltering.

You propped half of your body on the mattress, letting your eyelids fall shut for a brief moment, focusing on his tongue teasing your clit relentlessly. You caressed his long dark hair, drawing his puppy eyes to yours. “I’m almost there,” you choked out, your limbs tensing in response.

“God, Gyu,” you tilted your head back, a tiny giggle escaping you. “You’re so good at this,” you whispered aloofly.

Your fingers curled in his hair, feeling like you were falling, sinking into a puddle of pleasure. Arousal and drool dripped on the covers of the bed as the tension in your body brimmed you to the point you were shaking.

“Min-mingyu,” you choked out, so close to the edge you could barely hold out. “I’m coming, I’m coming, I’m co-,” your orgasm rippled through you, body going limp with sweet pleasure, shaking, and whimpering pathetically.

He placed one final open kiss on your clit before rising from the floor, a satisfied look on his face. “Shorty?” he mumbled.

“I’m good,” you gasped dazedly.

“Want more?” he asked, climbing back on top of you.

“I need you,” you cupped his neck, pulling him into a fervent kiss. You tasted yourself in his mouth, his chin wet with your arousal, making your walls throb around nothing. “I need you now.”

That brought a wolfish grin from him. “How do you want me, baby?”

“Lie down,” you breathed, finding his hard chest with your hands.

You knew it was incredibly hard to push his body, but somehow you did. Pushing his broad shoulders as you managed to get on top of him again, but this time, as you were both utterly naked in your bed, it felt completely different.

“Oh god,” he blurted, his hands gripping your hips instantly as you lowered your ass to sit on him.

“You were amazing,” you husked, placing a chaste kiss on his lips that resounded with a lewd smacking noise.

His fingers dug into the skin of your hips in reaction to your praise, groaning as he captured your lips with his own again.

“Do you have a condom?” you asked, your tone weakened by the pleasure and the urge of feeling him.

He blinked for one long second. “No,” he rasped. “Do you?”

You shook your head. “I could suck you off,” you mumbled meekly, your gaze shifting between his eyes and lips. “But I’m on birth control.”

“I’m clean,” he mumbled. Your heart deflated just a little.

“I want you, Min,” you whispered, brushing his lower lip with the pad of your thumb.

A silent groan escaped him. “Please,” he replied in kind. “I want to feel you, baby. Now.”

The sound of his words emboldened you. You sat back on his thick thighs, once you straddled him you realized how big Kim Mingyu actually was. You raked the skin of his torso with the tips of your fingers, making him suck in a breath and shut his eyes close.

“Don’t tease me, please,” he choked out, kneading the flesh of your thighs. “Play later, baby.”

The whiny tone of his plea did not go unnoticed by you, but you kept caressing his skin, exploring it under the pads of your fingers until you reached his pelvis. Mingyu was well groomed, you found out when you grazed the short hairs with your index finger.

“Please,” he breathed, a hand shooting to circle your ankle.

“Alright,” you giggled.

You grabbed his hard cock with one hand, swallowing hard when you felt his soft skin, the thin vein trailing on the underside of his thick shaft. It was heavy and warm as you pumped him, spreading the precum leaving from its reddened tip.

Lifting your hips, your gaze locked on his, he trapped his lower lip behind his teeth, you guided his cockhead to your folds, a moan bubbling in your chest when his hands gripped you tighter. Mingyu sucked in a breath, swallowing a deep moan as you sank down on him.

“God,” you sighed, tears brimming in your eyes at the euphoric sensation of his cock stretching your walls deliciously.

But none of you broke eye contact, much as if neither wanted to miss the reactions you got from feeling each other.

“Fuck,” he whined once you bottomed out on him with a moan from your part. He closed his eyes, shuddering hard underneath you, his hands lingered on your hips, kneading your thighs as if that helped him cling to sanity.

“Okay?” you whispered.

“God, you…” he sighed, licking his lips. “You feel like heaven, baby.”

You smiled at him. “How long have you gone without getting fucked?” the question flew out of your mouth before you could even stop yourself.

“A while,” he admitted with a raspy tone.

You gave him a smile, before you anchored your hands on his chest, pulling your hips up, and then pressed them back onto his, feeling every naked inch of him. Your mouth fell open. “You’re so big,” you gasped.  

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered.

You shook your head, though the stretch had stopped hurting, you were enjoying it. You tucked your feet beneath you, propping them on his thighs to help yourself angle your hips on top of him. “Okay?” you asked again, riding him slowly.

“Perfect,” he replied, lifting his hands to cup your tits while his eyes explored every curve of your body.

You moaned, his fingers toyed with your pebbled nipples, making your hips buckle. “God, Mingyu…” you sighed, picking up the pace on top of him, enjoying the glazed look on his face.

“Fuck,” he gritted, pushing his head back on your fluffy pillows. “I’m gonna come. Baby, I’m g-gonna come.”

By pure instinct, you lifted your hips from his completely, making him sigh heavily but did not complain. You laughed impishly at the frown setting on his face.

“Please! Please, don’t stop, baby,” he whined, his hands clutching your waist. “I can keep going… just let me come, please. I need it.”

Oh, you could become addicted to this. You quickly realized.

You conceded without more begging from his part, sinking down on his cock again. Mingyu let out a long, whiny moan, shuddering when you started bouncing on him again. You leaned forward, managing to trap his lips with your own in a heated kiss. He hummed in your mouth, his hands roaming on your back. 

“Fuck, baby,” he gasped. “I swear, you feel like nothing else baby.”

You moaned, feeling your eyebrows pinch involuntarily. “You’re close, Min?” you asked, your tone going sweet and velvety for some reason.

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Don’t edge me again, please.”

“Okay,” you giggled. “Wanna come inside me, Min?” you brushed his long dark hair back.

You caught sight of awe shooting on the features of his face. “Ye-yeah,” he breathed. “Please, please I’m so close, baby…”

You left a small peck on his lower lip, bouncing on him gently. “Come inside me, Mingyu,” you whispered.

“Oh god,” he gasped, grabbing your hips, helping you ground on him at the speed he needed to find his release, which came quickly, making him squeeze his eyes shut for a second before finding your eyes. “Baby, I’m coming, fuck, fuuuuuck…”

His mouth parted, a sharp intake of breath resounding across the walls right before a raspy moan came out of his pretty lips. The sight was so alluring that you feared the image would never leave your mind, you knew it would haunt you every night.

His grip became limp, and you stopped swaying your hips on him, kissing his lips as he came down from his high.

“Don’t stop,” he breathed, finding your thigh with one hand, then the other, caressing your ass before he motioned you to continue moving on him.

“Mingyu-,”

“I told you, shorty,” he said, showing you a lazy grin. “I can keep going.”

An ecstatic feeling rushed through you.

“It’s okay, Mingyu,” you said. “I’m good.”

“I want you to come,” he muttered, his voice thickened and gruff by arousal. “Do you want me to help you come, baby?”

“I- yes,” you sighed. “God, yes, Mingyu.”

Mingyu nodded, grabbing your hips as he shifted on the bed, planting the soles of his feet on the mattress to lift his hips, fucking into you, his cock reached deeper inside your walls, and deeper. A whiny cry escaped your mouth, your hands flying to grab onto his shoulders.

“Mingyu!”

Then he started plowing into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin becoming louder, impossible for the whole neighborhood to ignore. The headboard banged against the wall, mattress creaking with each of Mingyu’s hard thrusts.

He gritted his teeth, his eyes lost on the features of your face as you wailed, and cried out on top of him, nearing your sweet release.

“Fuck, fuck, Mingyu, I’m coming, I’m coming,” you cried out, a low whiny moan leaving you as you reached your second orgasm. This one was fiery, consuming you fast and mercilessly. Mingyu grunted, and you knew just by the fucked out look on his face that he was coming with you but kept fucking into you through your high, dumping his second load inside you.

You were panting, shaking, languid with pleasure as he lowered his hips back on your bed again, reaching out for you by putting a hand on the back of your head, prompting you to lie on his chest.

“You’re okay?” he asked with a sigh.

“Yeah, yes,” you breathed raggedly. “Perfect. You?”

Mingyu chuckled, wrapping his heavy arms around you in a warm embrace. “Perfect.”

You closed your eyes, ignoring the alarming voices in your head.

There was a thing you were certain of: you were playing with fire. But you wanted him, even if that also meant that you wanted to make him forget his broken heart. You wanted to ease his pain.

“We need to clean up,” you said, lifting your head from his chest.

Mingyu smiled, brushing your hair, tucking it behind your ear with his fingers. “Can’t we stay like this for a minute?” he said with a lazy drawl.

“Okay,” you whispered, leaning down on his chest again.

You listened to his heartbeat, caressing his chest with one hand. You smiled.

“What?” he asked, hearing your tiny giggle.

“Will you accept that ramen now?” you asked.

Mingyu chuckled, his eyes lighting up. “Yeah, I think I will.”

The following Sunday rolled around and you did not go to the bar this time, feeling like it was a little too soon to see Mingyu again after the night he spent at your place. And thankfully, you did not feel hollow for once, even as you sat quietly in your apartment.

That was until the loud buzzing of your phone broke the perpetual stillness of the living room.

[8:40 PM] min: Are you free tomorrow? [8:40 PM] min: Can I come over to yours? [8:40 PM] min: I can't stop thinking about you.

That drew a big smile out of you. You replied in an instant, letting him know that he could come to yours, sealing the deal with Mingyu, whom you never thought would make you feel something real again.

☆ author's note: hi there! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡

don't hate shorty for her actions, she had to take risks lol. she is a hot ass mess but give my girl a chance, she'll get better (✿◠‿◠) this fic is lowkey inspired by the song two weeks by fka twigs and my personal life experience

the journey of this fic is. . . kind of long. i started drafting this fic back in december 2023. i originally intended it to be a one shot, only focusing on the rebound aspect. but for some reason i couldn't get myself to write it and then. . . my ex partner and i broke up after years of being together. i kind of understood why i couldn't write this fic. and so here it is.

not me oversharing on tumblrdotcom oh well you could practically see into my soul in all my fics, c'est la vie haha

also my general taglist is a mess so,

IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED FOR THIS SERIES, PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS CHAPTER, PUT IT ON YOUR REBLOG TAGS OR SEND ME AN ASK PLEEEEASE PRETTY PLS OR, JOIN MY TAGLIST

anyways,

toodles

☆ STAY TUNED FOR PART II! ☆ | JOIN MY TAGLIST | BUY ME COFFEE? ♡

© TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

finally found the sweet comfort jk fanfiction i needed! this is soooo good 🥺❤️‍🩹

obvious ⋆ jeon jeongguk

you lose your virginity to jeongguk, the only boy you’d ever trust with such weight. and what you both feel for each other couldn’t be more obvious.

based on this ask

pairings: bookstore employee!jk x virgin!fem reader

genre: smut, strangers to friends to lovers

ratings: +18 / mdi

warnings: lower case intended, porn with some plot, mutual pining, age gap (4 years), first time, dry humping, tit play (small boobs lover jk!!!), oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job, size kink, protected sex, missionary, cowgirl, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, sooo much praise, and pet names, jeongguk is so so loving and caring, sm fluff hehe, bit of angst maybe? but lovey dovey confession <33

word count: 12.9k

a/n: aaaa this is so silly and rushed but theyre so cute and i had to do something about it. ps: this is my first time writing smut, hope it’s not embarassing Help ..any feedback is appreciated 👩🏻‍💻

you met jeon jeongguk at your favorite bookstore. the one tucked away in the quieter part of town, hidden in the shadow, squeezed between a small café and a vintage shop with an unassuming facade. it’s not the kind of place that draws crowds, most people passed it without a second glance, without paying it the attention it deserved.

but you always did, too attentive for your own liking, too curious for your own sake. you had always been the type to notice the quiet places where stories seem to breathe.

there was nothing not to love about the store. it felt like a refuge in tones of deep brown wood and soft amber light. it wasn’t flashy, but that’s why you loved it. stepping inside always brought a sense of calm, brought you closer to feel the whisper of worn leather bindings, the smell of old pages. it was being understood, accepted, seen.

meeting jeongguk wasn’t fate. it wasn’t some serendipitous moment ripped from a movie script. you didn’t bump into him while too immersed in your favorite novel. you didn’t reach simultaneously for the same book and argued over it, only to end up in the café next door.

jeon jeongguk was simply working there. he was an employee at the bookshop, stocking shelves, checking inventory. he just so happened to be charming, and the only one who came up to you after you’d been standing in front of a high shelf for what felt like an eternity.

“looking for anything in particular?”

when you turned to follow the source of the honey voice, not too low but still smooth, you had to fight hard to keep the gasp that was threatening to escape locked in your throat. he was tall. way taller than you. his dark hair fell in soft curls, brushing the nape of his neck, framing his face with carefully crafted, but effortlessly beautiful curtains. and when you managed to escape his wide eyes, seemingly storing all the warmth the shop could offer, you found it even harder to contain the surprise as you spotted a trail of intricate ink designs starting from his hand and running up his muscled arm, only to disappear beneath the short sleeve of his black polo.

he was still staring, expectantly. and you just kept standing there, mute. observing like a maniac. you stumbled over your words, trying to steady your voice, “oh— um. i was looking for the japanese author, kawamura?”

the way his eyes lit up at your request was unmistakable. and after that, the same spark would flicker in his gaze every time you stepped foot in the shop.

you later found out that he was new, which explained why you hadn’t noticed him before, all the times you’d gone and searched for books. which weren’t a lot, but enough for the other staff to know your face through the years. and now, certainly enough for jeongguk to become acquainted with your presence.

you started finding excuses to go more often, week after week, convincing yourself that you needed new books to accompany your tea as the colder months approached. truth be told, it wasn’t just the books pulling you in. your friends kept teasing you about the real reason why you’d always hurry there after your lectures ended, and deep down you knew you just had to accept it. you were developing a silly, little crush.

jeongguk didn’t seem to mind the growing frequency of your visits. if you had to guess, you’d say he was just as eager to see you. or maybe he was just exceptionally good at his job. if that were the case, you hoped he was crowned employee of the month every single time.

there was always a line he never crossed. his professionalism remained intact. he greeted you like any other customer, offering his help when you needed it. and you always seemed to need it, didn’t you? yet, there was something in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when you smiled, the way his lips curved in that subtle, almost hidden way when you left with a new book in hand. you’d walk out of the store, clutching your latest literary find, grinning like a fool, and jeongguk would watch, his own smile lingering long after you were gone.

deep down, you knew this couldn’t last forever. you were just a student, miserably scraping by in the tiniest flat imaginable, your waitressing part-time job barely paying enough to make it through the month. but you’d feel bad, wasting hours of jeongguk’s shift, monopolizing his time with your indecision over paperbacks, keeping him off his tasks, just for it to be a waste. you needed to show him your gratitude, in a way. contribute to the income of the bookshop. so, you kept buying books. you weren’t sure you even had more space to fit them in your own shelf.

yet no matter how much you tried to convince yourself to stay away, you couldn’t help it. books were your escape, your joy, and the fact that they were sold to you by jeongguk was just an added bonus. the problem wasn’t him— it was your wallet. your poor, overworked wallet that kept reminding you of the price of each novel and how your little crush was becoming financially unsustainable.

it was one of those afternoons after your morning lectures, where the crisp autumn air made you even more eager to slip into the bookstore, feeling that familiar rush of warmth as jeongguk greeted you with his usual smile. this time, he surprised you with a book he had found just for you, claiming “you’d enjoy it. feels light and genuine, just like you.”

when it came time to pay, cheeks still flushed after the sickly, sweet grin he flashed your way, you sighed as you rummaged through your bag for your card.

he scanned it, only to glance up at you with a hesitant expression, “huh… it declined.”

“what?” you laughed, though it was shaky, disbelief lacing your words, “no, that can’t be right. try again.”

he did, but the outcome remained unchanged. he met your eyes with a worried frown, and you felt your face flame in embarrassment, not the one that made your insides swarm with butterflies minutes before this.

you groaned, pressing your palm to your forehead in mortification, “fuck, this is so humiliating.”

jeongguk chuckled softly, his voice soothing, “hey, it’s really not. it’s okay. i’ll pay for it.”

your jaw dropped, and you looked at him like he had lost his mind, “no, what? are you crazy? don’t— don’t do that. you don’t need to. i’ll just come back another day.”

what followed was a ridiculous, playful back-and-forth. you refused, he insisted, and soon enough, the two of you were locked in a silly tug-of-war over the book itself, laughing despite the situation. he finally threw his hands up in surrender, his smile impossibly wide, the kind of grin that made your heart skip a beat.

“alright, alright,” he relented, shaking his head, “but i’m still not happy about this. if i can’t pay for your book, at least let me buy you a coffee. i’m clocking off in 15. will you wait for me?”

you couldn’t contain your eyes from widening, your smile to dumbly paint your features as you eagerly nodded. you didn’t trust yourself to speak, afraid that if you did, some ridiculous teenage squeal would escape. he was grinning just as hard, though.

and so, you began seeing jeongguk outside the confined space of the bookstore, in a world beyond the shelves and spines of novels. his attire was always simple, dark tones that exuded comfort and warmth. his sweaters seemed soft enough to curl into, and his presence felt just as inviting.

but you pushed those thoughts away, trying to remind yourself that he was becoming a friend. one of your closest, even. you tried. you did! but you just couldn’t help the way your mind wandered, imagining what it would be like to lean just a little closer, to feel the warmth of his embrace. god, get a grip.

still, it was impossible to ignore the flutter in your chest each time his eyes lingered a little longer than necessary. outside the bookstore, jeongguk was different. not in a bad way. he was just more relaxed, more himself. his touch came naturally, a hand at the small of your back guiding you through a crowded street, his arm slung casually over your shoulders like it belonged there. he was playful in a way that hinted at something deeper, his jokes sometimes drifting into uncharted territory, leaving your stomach in knots, your thoughts spiraling down paths you hadn’t dared explore.

and then there was the way he looked after you. he was older, just by a few years, 25 to your 21, but it felt like a gulf of experience separated the two of you. he’d seen more, lived more. experienced more. knew more. about all that stuff you’d been scared to explore, the stuff that happened in the intimacy of one’s bedroom. you knew he had his fair share of girlfriends, he told you about it. just how you’d told him you never got close to a relationship. you just flirted around with a boy in high school, messily making out in the corners where no one could see you. but it never went over that.

jeongguk’s protectiveness over you came naturally. you didn’t mind. it was reassuring, the way his hand tightened around your wrist in a crowded space or how his gaze followed you across a room, always making sure you were safe.

you found yourself spending more and more time together. walking through the city, staying up late at cafés, or just wandering aimlessly in his car, talking about everything. you told him about your classes, the stress of exams, your dreams of becoming a teacher, and the uncertainties that weighed you down. he listened, really listened, in a way that made you feel seen, like every word you said mattered.

jeongguk shared his own story too. he’d dropped out of college a year ago, deciding that the path everyone else had planned for him wasn’t for him at all. now, he was drifting, trying to figure out where he belonged. he took inspiration in the way your eyes sparkled at the prospect of your future. little did he know, your eyes just reflected the galaxies in his that you loved getting lost into.

it terrified you. because with each passing day, your feelings for him grew stronger, more undeniable. it wasn’t just a crush anymore. it was something that had its own weight, pulling you closer to him. the lines were blurring, but you let them.

one night, after a long week of classes and stress, you went out with a few friends. jeongguk hadn’t been able to join, caught up with work, but when your tipsy self had dialed his number later that night, he picked up right away. your voice was soft, your words slurred. they echoed through the bar’s bathroom, followed by your uncontainable giggles as jeongguk playfully scolded you on the other line. the same softness was painting his face, and he only hung up when he started his car, showing up within minutes.

by the time he arrived, you were well past tipsy and leaning dangerously toward drunk. you didn’t notice him sheepishly greeting your group of friends, their eyes lighting up with interest at the image of the renowned jeon jeongguk, until his low voice called your name, slipping his arm around your waist and helping you up from the bar stool, “come on, let’s get you home. say bye-bye.”

you glared at him, face slightly reddening at his tease. he just loved treating you like a little kid. loved poking fun at you. still, you leaned into him, the scent of his body wash wrapping around you like a comforting blanket, banter ready on your tongue, “i’m fine, grandpa,” you slurred amusedly, but your legs wobbled as you tried to walk.

he chuckled under his breath, guiding you out of the bar, “yeah, sure you are. you’re barely standing.”

the night air was cold against your skin, but jeongguk was warm, his body solid and steady as you clung to him.

you didn’t mean to say it, didn’t mean to let the words slip, but in your hazy, alcohol-fueled state, you genuinely wondered, “why are you so good to me?”

he paused for a moment, glancing down at you with a small smile, “because you deserve it.”

the car ride was silent, in a comfortable way. you got lost in the way the city flashed past you, and jeongguk stole sneaky glances at you from the corner of his eye, his hand gripping the steering wheel a little tighter each time he let his eyes linger.

when he reached your place, he helped you inside, gently guiding you to the couch. you were too dazed to fight him when he insisted on getting you some water and a blanket. he moved around your cramped flat with ease, having memorized where every single thing belonged after his countless stays at your place, watching movie after movie or simply keeping you company while you revised.

he sat beside you for a while as you rambled on about your night, how the music was slightly disappointing even with the drinks being overpriced.

jeongguk listened attentively, even with your words stumbling out in messy fragments, jumping from one topic to another. his eyes traced the way your hands moved in wild gestures, the way your lips fumbled for the right words, the glaze in your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the room. he didn’t realize it at first, but his body instinctively followed your movements, leaning closer with every excited wave of your arms, his knees brushing against yours, his head nodding in time with your words.

only when you stopped talking, turning to face him and catching his gaze in the dim light, he was made aware of the little distance between you. it wasn’t unusual for the two of you to be this close. always sneakily seeking for one another in booth seats of the pubs you’d visit every so often, his hand lingering on your knee for longer than needed when calling for your attention, your arms locking together when walking through the city.

but this moment was different. it was heavy with something unspoken. and so tender, fragile.

your cheek rested on the back of the couch, your body slouched, your eyes half-lidded. he sat straight, his torso turned towards you, his head bending down to study your face better.

you didn’t think when you blurted his name out, your gaze falling on his lips, “jeongguk.”

he hummed softly.

“i want you to kiss me.”

the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but you didn’t take them back. you couldn’t.

jeongguk didn’t seem startled by your unfiltered words. he didn’t flinch, didn’t pull back. he only tilted his head slightly, the corner of his lip inching up sweetly, “you want me to kiss you?”

you hummed, with the same softness, only tinted with uncertainty. fear of rejection. you were suddenly aware of what you asked him now that he repeated it back to you. and you realized how much you meant it, just now.

but his tone wasn’t condemning. it was seeking for confirmation that he heard right, that it wasn’t just your drunk thoughts talking. still, he didn’t lean closer, nor let his eyes fall to the lower part of your face.

he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “i’ll kiss you. just not now.”

”what? why not?”

your eyebrows were cutely furrowed, the blush the alcohol painted you with only making the pout on your lips even more irresistible.

jeongguk hissed amusedly, ”because you’re drunk. and when i’ll kiss you, i want you to be sure about it. want you to remember it.”

”but i am sure about it. i want you.”

once again, your blunt confession didn’t seem to faze him. he smiled, kept his tone low, ”i know. i want you too.”

your breath hitched at the unexpected sincerity of his words, your eyes roaming all over his face. you subtly shifted closer, your lips parted slightly with desire. the flame that lit up your body burned all the alcohol from your system, and suddenly you were more awake than ever. you were alert. your heart pounding, your core pulsing. he looked so inviting, so pretty in that light.

he wet his lips, darting his tongue out to play with his piercing. you could feel your head spin. you didn’t just want him. you needed him. and it wasn’t the alcohol. you were sure of it.

you could only dumbly lean closer and hope for the best, but he chuckled softly, his large hand framing the side of your face and forcing you to stop your path towards him, look at him, swim in the intensity of his gaze.

his tone was gentle, delicate, understanding, “if you don’t change your mind, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, okay? when you’re sober. hm?”

his eyes searched yours, waiting patiently for your response. you only managed a small nod, your eyes glossy with frustration and a bit of shame. you bit your lip, muttering a small okay and letting him fix your hair with the fondest look in his orbs.

he left your flat only after tucking you in your bed, because you begged him to, and after much more pleading, you even convinced him to stay beside you until you fell asleep. you didn’t feel him slip out of your hold on his hand, the weight of his body leaving your bed, and with it, the warmth of his presence going as well.

but the following day, after downing the glass of water you assumed he left by your nightstand, you bore through your headache and searched for his contact in your phone first thing as you woke up. you were instantly hit with flashes of the night before, and you remembered exactly what you told him, what he promised. that if you still wanted it, you would talk about it. and you just needed to hear his voice, as soon as possible.

you’re not sure what there was to talk about. you asked him for a kiss. his lips on yours. it’s not like there would be much space for talking.

with your phone to your ear, the ringback tone was the only sound filling the space between your thoughts. you felt a twinge of anxiety in your stomach. you should have probably called later, let yourself adjust to consciousness. maybe rationalize yesterday’s events and find a better way to move around them. give yourself more time to think it over. the wait stretched on, and it only gave your doubts more space to spiral, turn into little monsters whispering evil things in your ear.

he probably wanted to talk to you about it because he thought it was a stupid idea. he didn’t really want it, was just lying to get you to shut up. he thought you were foolish, childish, not his type at all. or maybe, he was seeing someone and didn’t know how to tell you. wow, that would be humbling. you wanted him so bad and he was just—

“hello?”

his voice sounded muffled through the line. you clumsily adjusted your device to your ear, sitting up, still in your bed, last night’s makeup smudged under your eyes, “jeongguk?”

”that would be me, ma’am.”

“hi,” your voice was low, thick with sleep and the remnants of your hangover, and it sounded weaker than you’d intended to reveal.

”hey. feeling better, miss?”

his playful tone was laced with affection, and it instantly put a smile on your face. you didn’t realize it, but your mind was clearing, your body unconsciously easing back into the covers, “i am.”

jeongguk hummed, and you heard the faint sound of movement on his end. he was probably getting ready for the bookstore, but still found time to pick up your call. it made you alert, awkwardly aware of what both of you were probably expecting out of this conversation.

you cleared your throat, smoothing some of the morning grogginess and sounding lighter, softer, “come over after your shift? i miss the office. and your ramyeon.”

when he chuckled in your ear and teased you for that one time you said his cooking was average, you felt your shoulders relax. even more when he agreed and shot you a quick see you later, followed by the exaggerated sound of smacking lips.

it was his signature goodbye, always ending your calls with that. it would usually make you roll your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. but this time, it made you blush like a pubescent teenager. get. a. grip.

jeongguk noticed the slight shift in your demeanor right away. he could taste the tension, smell it in the air, feel it in the way you’d become stiff, even when his fingers barely grazed your skin. it was a stark contrast to how things had been between you two.

you still moaned around the first bite of his ramyeon, still giggled with your mouth full as he mockingly mimicked your voice, playfully downgrading his cooking skills from months ago. but you blushed a little harder at the smirk that followed his usual tease. subtly ran away from his hand seeking your contact.

with time, both of you had grown comfortable with the casual touches, playful proximity— tickling at each other’s sides, poking jokingly, or simply brushing hands when no one was looking. it had become a natural part of your dynamic.

but after your earlier slurred confessions, he could tell that it was affecting you more deeply now, your body reacting differently to his touch. the way you startled at his closeness, the small breath catching in your throat. it all made his head spin, his fist tighten in restraint. you weren’t the only one affected.

on your couch, you found it hard to relax in his familiar embrace, an arm around your shoulders, your head resting on his chest. the steady rhythm of his breathing usually soothed you, but tonight, your heart was fighting its way up, dangerously close to spilling all over his neat clothes. you exhaled shakily, the office playing quietly on the tv doing a weak job at distracting you.

and jeongguk couldn’t take it anymore. lust wasn’t the only feeling simmering under the surface. he was scared. that he may have read it all wrong, that you only blurted it out because you were drunk and not in control of your thoughts. he was terrified of stepping the wrong way, doing something that would determinately scare you away, end whatever you two had for good. and he didn’t want to lose you. wanted to keep you. and that went over the need to taste your lips.

through the corner of your eye, you could feel him stare down at you intently. his other hand reached to move your hair out of the way, and you let him. you turned to meet his gaze, and relaxed slightly at the fond look on his features.

“what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours? will you tell me?”

you blinked. gulped down loudly. the reassuring smile on his face grew bigger. you shifted slightly in his hold, moving your body to face him, and the arm that was around you naturally fell down your waist.

you tried to word it differently, tried to suppress it just a bit longer, find another way around it, but his blown out pupils lowered all your inhibitions, “do you— do you still want to kiss me?”

“i do. very badly.”

his response was immediate, and it came through a whisper. it caressed your face sweetly, and it made you aware of the natural gravity that pulled you even closer, to the point of your noses almost touching.

you were unable to move, to initiate anything, to be truthful to your desires. your orbs jumped on every corner of his face, widening. he let his palm close around your hip, then he spoke low, “will you let me do that?”

jeon jeongguk kissed you slowly. his lips lingered on yours, tasting, moving with intent. his hands framed your face, traveling down your neck and holding you gently by the nape.

it was sweet, and delicate. he took his time becoming acquainted with your pace, letting you control the movement of his doings. when he darted his tongue out to trace your lower lip, you granted him permission to explore the insides of your mouth.

with tongues intertwined, the kiss gradually became sloppier, more desperate. your fingers found home in his long curls, tugging at the base of it, and supporting yourself while arching your body into his, pressing yourself against his chest, seeking for confirmation that he wanted this just as badly as you did.

he welcomed your proximity by letting his palms fall to your waist, keeping you close, and tracing his touch dangerously close to the curve of your ass.

you whined lowly, but the sounds became ingloriously louder the more he pressed your body against his hard one, his touch wandering, squeezing, feeling.

you messily straddled his lap and sat with your knees on both sides of him, your desire deepening with your kiss, devouring his lips harder, twisting his hair in a confused tangle the more you got lost in them.

his hands went to hold your hips, and you soon felt a stronger weight on them, gently pulling you away and giving you a minute to catch your breath. though it was taken out of you the moment you took in the man in front of you, his lips swollen, his eyes half-lidded, his curls all over the place.

he let out an amused chuckle, combing through your own mess on your head, “hey, pretty. it’s okay. there’s no rush. we can take it slow, hm?”

in that small moment, you were made aware of your own eagerness slipping out of your control and rushing your actions, insatiable with wanting more, but not even being sure if jeongguk wanted that more just as much.

instead, you were sure your whole face was a crimson shade with the way the boy under you fondly grinned, his hand guiding you by the nape and letting your lips meet again in a small peck, before he focused on your face again.

jeongguk never left your eyes, and you were too hypnotized to even think of looking elsewhere. his gaze was steady, magnetic, thirsty to drink in your reaction as he guided your hips against him, letting them drag over his clothed bulge. you moaned, unshameful, your eyes rolling back.

”yeah? you like that?”

you could only nod dumbly, repeatedly, using your hands on his shoulders as support while you kept grinding on him. slowly at first, just how he had suggested. but the stimulation was too good, your clit deliciously meeting his hardness, spreading the embarrassing amount of wetness you had already collected all over your panties. you tentatively picked up your pace, his hands immediately stopping you.

”you need to be patient, doll.” his scold was only playful, the smirk spreading on his features letting you know he enjoyed the effect he had on you, the way he bit his lip communicating he was just as affected. but you liked the feeling of him guiding you through this.

you didn’t know what to do, weren’t sure how to please him, too shy under his adoring look. you sheepishly smiled, falling onto him and hiding yourself in the crook of his neck.

he laughed, his chest moving with it, and you could feel his heart pumping, his warmth meeting the side of your face. he took the hand on your waist and dragged it up your back, soothingly, “you’re doing so good, baby. okay?”

it was sweet, and the praise made you pulse around nothing. you nodded, your nose brushing against his neck as you timidly let your lips leave a trace of wet kisses along his adam’s apple, going up his jaw. he hummed, the sound reverberating in his throat and against your mouth.

you left small pecks on his cheek, to his nose, retreating after laying a quiet one on his mouth. you looked back at him, jumping between his eyes, confession tumbling out your tongue, “sorry. i just want you so bad.”

he chuckled, moving your bangs out of your face, “i want you just as much. but i don’t want this moment to be fast. want to make it special for you.”

his whispered words tugged at the strings of your poor heart. you felt it begging to be ripped out of your chest, banging on your rib cage, maybe trying to find another way up your throat. but its repeated, quick pumping also matched the need pooling down your lower belly, staining your panties.

you nodded, finding his lips again and deepening the kiss, adapting to a slower rhythm as your tongues fervently explored each other. he grabbed your sides and grinded you closer to him, moaning in your mouth as you matched his gentle guiding, meeting the involuntary buck of his hips.

the almost too tender drag of your clothed pussy against his clothed, hard cock soon became torturous for the both of you, reduced to panting, eager messes. you felt unashamedly close just from the repeated action, and if he hadn’t decided to lay you on your back just then, you were sure you would have cummed already.

he was gentle as he positioned you on the couch, your body sprawled while he was mindful not to put too much of his weight on you. when he left your lips, you instinctively whined. your head subtly lifted off the sofa to try and follow his mouth, bring it back on yours, but he only smirked and darted his tongue out to lick off your taste.

he didn’t give you time to protest, to miss his touch, to be left unattended. because he quickly moved to work on your neck, his tattooed hand tentatively seeking its way under your t-shirt.

you let him wander. let him leave wet traces from your jaw down your collarbones while his fingers left goosebumps along their path, and rose up to your chest. he hummed at the feeling of your bare breasts, smirking at the absence of a bra.

he felt the skin under it, only for his palm to cup your boob and knead at it. it was a perfect fit in his large hand, his thumb teasingly slicing over your nipple and making you mewl, arching your back and pushing your front into him.

he moved himself from your neck and hesitantly lifted up your shirt, searching your eyes for permission. you put your hands on his and led them to take it off you, discarding it on the ground.

he sat back on his heels, admiring your figure laying between his legs. in his eyes, you found something you were never met with until that moment.

he looked starved, his pupils blown and following every curve of your body, his hands hovering only to end up caressing your sides delicately.

you blushed, hard, using your hand to cover your face and throwing an arm over your chest. his palms squeezed your hips twice, his thumbs stroking the skin under your ribs, “don’t hide from me, pretty. let me see you.”

you shook your head stubbornly, a small whine escaping your throat. but he could tell you weren’t starting any fight, he could make out your smile, barely concealed under your fingers.

jeongguk moved your wrists and laid them on top of your head, his face nearing again to leave an adoring kiss on your lips. when he found your eyes again, the fondest smile was painting his features, “you’re beautiful.”

“my boobs are small,” your voice was muffled, shy, hidden behind your childish pout.

“i fucking love them,” with one hand still keeping your wrists together, he used the other one to play with your breasts once more, his gaze hypnotized by the way he could make them fit in his large palm, squeezing them together and kneading at the softness.

you moaned, loud and unashamed, when he guided his smooth lips to your nipple, his gaze never leaving yours while he attempted small, kitten licks at it.

when he saw how your eyes lustfully rolled back as his fingers went to play with your other boob, rolling it and letting his thumb slide over the sensitive center, he took it as his go-ahead to wholly engulf your wet nipple in his mouth and suck on it, lick around it, kiss it.

jeongguk was hastily making out with your tits, giving both of them the attention they needed, reducing your nipples to soaked, hard messes.

you felt your soul ascend high and leave your body when, as you unconsciously thrusted your hips up in desperate need of friction, you found that in his knee, the one that was positioned between your legs, the one you now grinded into with no control over your pace, bringing yourself closer to the edge.

“fuck, jeongguk,” you didn’t have time to feel ashamed over how delirious you sounded, or looked, the lewd noises of his sucking taking you even higher, his hands massaging your boobs with intent.

you only got louder the more you let your cunt rub against his leg, a motion you were unable to slow down, too eager to get to the finish line. and this time, jeongguk let you, even spurring you on, “let go, angel. cum on my thigh.”

it was all the encouragement you needed to fully loosen, his own whines resounding against your chest and blending with your high-pitched moans, eyes rolled back, head thrown to the side, fingers clutching around jeongguk’s locks and guiding him further into you as you lost control on his thigh, “gonna cum!”

your orgasm took over your whole body, shaking with overwhelment at the stimulation. all the sensations you were feeling were new to you, but nonetheless welcomed in the way your eyelids drooped with relaxed pleasure and you worked to catch your breath, your muscles untightening, your arms falling by your sides.

jeongguk left one last kiss around your nipple before lifting himself up to admire your fucked out state, your cheeks flushed and sweat adorning you with an angel-like glow, the lazy smile on your face as you stared at him making his heart skip a few beats.

he let his eyes wander, his own expression incredulous at what had just happened, “that was so fucking sexy, baby.”

the way you sheepishly chuckled was contagious, his giggles filling your ears as he lifted you up and pulled you against his chest, your still weak body falling onto him with ease. he smiled fondly, looking down at your face, “if you want to stop here, it’s totally okay. i won’t—“

“no!” your energy came back to you as quickly as it left your body minutes before, sitting up straight in his embrace with your eyes wide and worried. you fumbled with your words, “no— no. i want to keep going. please.”

the grin that took over his features adorably caused his nose to scrunch, and he had to put his lips on yours and let them blend together in a sickly sweet kiss to keep himself from saying the words that were so dangerously close from spilling, on the tip of his tongue. he hoped, as he slid it against yours, that you could still feel them, and accept them.

he retreated to cup your cheek in his palm, your eyebrows still unconsciously drawn up in agitation, but easing as he reassured you, “you don’t have to beg, angel. i’ll give you anything you ask for.”

”okay. couch is uncomfortable. take me to the bedroom,” your arms stretched out, teasingly expecting him to pick you up.

you squealed when he did, taking your legs, wrapping them around his tiny waist and getting up the sofa, leading both of you to your room. he didn’t have to watch where he was going, his feet automatically guiding him, having adjusted to your flat long ago. but even if that weren’t the case, he would still not look, too caught up in your glossy orbs.

he pinched your sides before laying you on the soft surface of your bed, legs still tight around him, “bossy much, hm?”

you shrugged, a naughty grin accompanying the playful glint in your eyes, “you’re following my orders flawlessly.”

he scoffed amusedly, kissing his teeth, “ah, is that right?”

you hummed, eager with taking the back and forth further, see where it takes you, “such a good boy.”

the giggle that tumbled out of you as he narrowed his eyes betrayed you, breaking into a full fit of laughter as he tickled your sides, your legs leaving his waist. he tauntingly bit your neck, not enough to hurt you, grinning mischievously, “i’m letting you get away with too much. need to teach you a lesson.”

the laugh died in your throat the second he lifted his shirt up, showing his body to you for the first time. michelangelo would have loved to sculpt him, that’s the first thought your slowed down brain could come up with as you let your eyes wander all over his upper body.

he was toned, his eight pack abs glowing effortlessly for your mouth to water, his nipples a brownish color and so inviting, making you lean on your forearms for a better view.

the arm that wrapped around one of your legs and pushed it on the side was the one inked with those intricate designs you spent boring, lazy afternoons analyzing, and now they were the reason why you could feel a familiar buzz down your core again, coating your panties with even more of your sticky juice.

“cat got your tongue?” there was no way you could even think of a witty come-back with the way he lowered his pretty face between your thighs, his cocky smirk never leaving his expression as his eyes fixated on your own, challenging you.

but you were long gone, willing to let him do whatever he wanted to your body. you stared intently as his fingers hooked under the hem of your shorts, pulling them down in a sensual motion, until they fell on the floor.

your head fell backwards as he let his nose trace your soaked slit, still hidden underneath the layer of cotton panties, “is this okay?”

he only needed your eager nod to leave a subtle kiss on your clit, then lap at your slick through the thin material, “taste so good, doll.”

jeongguk repeated the motion, licking at you through your undies and letting his big nose brush against your clit torturously, his saliva and your wetness causing the fabric to dig between your lips uncomfortably, showing yourself to him.

you unconsciously bucked your hips up, eagerly demanding to set you free, but he held you down by your waist, “patience, baby.”

you whined loudly, and you couldn’t believe how delirious you sounded already, only moments after your earlier climax. he seemed to enjoy your reactions, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance and ripping a desperate moan out of you, trying to push yourself into him further but being held down by his strong palms.

you fell on your back, your hair sprawled over your pillows, suddenly too weak to fight against him. he chuckled darkly, speaking against your core, “you’re so cute. so eager for me, angel.”

when he lifted himself up, his mouth glistened with your juice, and you couldn’t help but blush at the image. you were so wet, the liquid stained him even through the layer of clothing still keeping you from fully feeling him.

the silent plead in your eyes was listened to. jeongguk slid off your panties in one swift motion, his eyes hungry at the sight revealed to him, “fuck. so perfect. the prettiest.”

he didn’t show mercy at your weakened state, returning his starved mouth on your cunt, slurping at your lips and sucking on your clit, the stimulation making you see stars under your eyelids.

your eyes snapped open the moment you felt something tentatively poking at your entrance, and as you lowered your head you saw his finger playing with your virgin hole, going up to collect your slick from your slit, then returning on where you were starting to need him.

but you were anxious. he immediately saw it in the way you got up on your forearms again, instinctively closing your legs around his hand. his eyes found yours, reassuringly, “baby. you alright?”

you nodded sheepishly, “yeah. i’m just— scared. don’t want it to hurt.”

the hand that was playing with you now laid on your lower stomach, rubbing it in a sweet manner while he sought for your mouth with his, leaving a honeyed peck on it, “it will hurt a bit, pretty. but i’ll try and make it feel good, hm? if you’re not sure, we can always stop.”

you could only bite your lip as the both of you searched for security in each other’s eyes. he tilted his head, waiting for your approval, the grin spreading and making his long dimples visible infectious, and you stumbled on your words, “can you— kiss me while you do it?”

he hummed fondly, his lips immediately finding yours as he positioned himself between your legs, spreading again and granting him access to the spot you were anxiously eager to feel him.

his tongue slowly moved with yours and lightly lulled your racing heartbeat, instilling some needed tranquility in your system as you felt him close to your core again. his middle finger repeated a circular motion around it, spreading your stickiness, only to bring it on your hole before delicately pushing his digit inside.

a choked out moan escaped you, captured promptly by his lips, keeping you somewhat distracted from the slight burn you felt. it grew the more he slipped himself inside you, and you bit his lip to conceal the pain.

he growled at the action, retreating his finger only to push it in again, this time tentatively deeper. he went over the movement a few times, enough to get you adjusted to the foreign presence, and the more he did it, the more the sharpness turned into pleasure.

”feel good, princess?” the pet name was whispered against your swollen lips, and you kept your eyes closed as you nodded, basking in the newly welcomed feeling.

when he started curling the finger inside you, you involuntarily bucked yourself up against him, your body spasming with your hole and he groaned at the feeling of your tightness, unconsciously grinding on the sheets.

he couldn’t help himself from breaking your kiss to look down, getting lost in the way his digit got sucked inside you, only to come out soaked in your juice. without warning, he slowly added another finger, and you arched your back, searching for support in his shoulder.

jeongguk’s eyes kept jumping between your wet cunt, where his fingers worked in and out, and your pleasure-contorted expression, your mouth agape and unleashing your every moan as your eyes squeezed shut.

he felt deliriously close only from the image, his hard dick desperate for friction and insatiable with the way he was still constricted in his jeans. but this moment was about you and you only. once he felt the way you gripped his shoulder tighter at one particular curl of his digits, he kept hitting that spot repeatedly, faster.

you didn’t notice his face retreating at first, too lost in the bliss of his purposed touch, but you gasped harshly, your eyes tearing open the moment you felt his lips enveloping your clit again and sucking at it, lapping all around it, tasting it as if it was his first meal after ages.

when you looked down, you found him already staring at you through half-lidded eyes. you wailed, feverish, “oh, shit. gguk, don’t— don’t do that.”

he hummed questioningly, and the sound reverberated against your sensitive nub.

you rolled your eyes back, ”gonna cum again if you— fuck.”

“cum around my fingers, baby. cum on my tongue,” the words came out slurred, his mouth full of you, the drenched sounds of your pussy making his encouragement even more erotic as he added a third finger.

his digits kept digging relentlessly inside you, that spot that made your legs weakly squish jeongguk between them being hit repeatedly and bringing you close to your second climax.

what completely undid you were his eager cries against your cunt, and when you managed to lift your head to look down at the boy working so desperately to make you cum on his lips, you saw his hips rutting frantically against your sheets.

you didn’t even have time to announce it, the way your hole spasmed around his fingers and your high-pitched moans doing it for you as you fully let go for the second time because of jeongguk. it was more intense, your body moving with it and unconsciously running away from the touch once it became too intense.

jeongguk cleaned you as best as he could, slurping your juices and licking you off his fingers, climbing up to find your lips and share your own taste with you, his chin coated with your slick.

your pleasured sounds mixed together, the both of you panting and soon laying in silence, one beside the other, staring at the ceiling. you laughed breathlessly, “fuck, gguk. i almost died.”

he only chuckled along with you, the sound strained and dying soon in his throat. with your heartbeat and your breathing settling down, you turned to the side to find jeongguk with his eyes squeezed shut and his jaw clenching. his fists were clutching the fabric beside him, and his knuckles were white from the effort.

it wasn’t complicated to understand why, the next thing you spotted being the hard outline of his cock looking completely suffocated by his pants. you gulped, “gguk. you seem hard.”

he let out a delirious scoff, his eyes finding yours with an intensity you were only then noticing, ”i am hard, baby. so hard for you.”

you tentatively guided your hand to the button of his jeans, undoing it along with the zip. your words were hesitant, but so sincere, ”let me touch you. wanna make you feel good, too.”

jeongguk watched with his mouth agape as you straddled his lap, sitting on his legs only after sliding his pants down to his ankles. you looked so innocent, timidly playing with the hem of his boxers, and he tried to be patient, but he couldn’t.

he groaned, his head thrown back. “___. please, do something.”

his eyes were glossy with frustration, and you had to fight the urge to kiss him stupid, focusing on the task ahead. a big one, indeed. you weren’t going to lie, you were already intimidated by the outline of it.

now that your naked body sat on top of him, being faced with his almost totally bare skin, you realized how much bigger he was compared to you. of course, he was taller, always towering over you, teasing you for your height and pretending he didn’t see you, bumping into you purposefully or asking how’s the weather down there?

but with his large palm resting at your side and almost covering your entire tummy, you realized the implications of such difference. he could totally wreck you, if he wanted to.

ogling at his dick didn’t make it better. it looked huge. a wet patch stained his underwear near the tip, and you salivated at the sight of it.

you tentatively let your finger run along the covered length, and he hissed, slightly thrusting his hips, making you slide closer, “baby. don’t tease.”

the apology was ready and fast on your lips, genuine concern written in your eyes. you didn’t want to keep his suffering going, but you were also hesitant with how exactly you were going to please him. you’ve never seen a real-life dick, and you’ve certainly never touched one.

it was like jeongguk could read your every thought, your wide orbs like an open book to him, reassurance slipping out of him naturally, “doll. you see this?” he took your wrists and laid your hand on his hardness, gulping at the contact, “you feel this? this is what you did to me. there’s no reason why you should doubt yourself, okay?”

you nodded, still unsure, but surely smiling at his sweet tone. he grinned himself, “you’re so hot, and i literally almost came just by looking at you.”

the giggle that escaped you was lively and it eased your nerves with the way it mirrored in his eyes, fondly jumping all over your face. you bit your lip as you escaped his attentive gaze, finally freeing his cock from his confines and making him release a shaky sigh.

it was perfect. pretty. it touched just under his belly button, the tip angry and wet with precum, the pulsing veins running along its length making it throb.

you took it in your hand delicately, jeongguk hissing, and you gasped under your breath. it felt thick in your hold, your fist barely closing around it.

you weren’t sure what to do. your only examples were pornos, and you knew not to fully trust them. but as you started letting your wrist tentatively flick up and down, slowly, you eagerly drank in his reaction.

jeongguk moaned lowly, his eyelids fluttering shut, focusing on the feeling of your smooth hands taking care of his boner. he got louder when you unexpectedly played with his tip, your thumb swirling around it and spreading his wetness down.

your movements were messy, stutteringly uncoordinated, but the concentrated look in your eyes as you stared at his member intently made his head spin, wishing he could fill your slightly agape, watering mouth with it.

in your own mind, you wished his length could be stuffing up your cunt, instead. you slowed down your doings, ending up haltering them as he found your face again, a protesting whine ready to escape him, but you were quicker to surprise him, your voice shy, ”wanna feel you inside me.”

jeongguk groaned deliriously, eyes rolling back at the simple request, ”fuck. you sure?”

you whispered, ”please.”

”of course, angel. been waiting for so long.”

your mouths found each other quickly, starving, both your heartbeats picking up at the prospect of what was going to happen. he combed through your hair to move them behind your ears, rolling the two of you and making you the one laying under his weight.

in between kisses, you asked, impatient, “do you have a condom?”

”yeah, got one in my wallet,” he was panting with effort just as you were, moving from you only to fully free himself from his clothes and then search in his jeans pockets.

as he took the condom out, ripping it open, he stumbled on his words, suddenly awkwardly self-conscious, “it’s not like i have it because i was— expecting us to, huh—“

”jeongguk. it’s okay,” your sweet voice interrupted his overthinking, pulling him to be on top of you again by his arm, “i’m glad you have it, ‘cause i need to feel you. right now.”

he didn’t need to be told twice. you watched, eyes glossy with want, need, as he rolled the condom along his length, huffing out at the sensitivity.

jeongguk brought you closer to him by your thighs, wrapping them around him. he lowered himself on his forearms, his forehead touching yours, eyes swimming together, the proximity making the both of you smile sheepishly.

he exhaled, “are you still sure about this, doll?”

you nodded, the subtle but growing anxiety making your words get stuck in your throat. jeongguk was gentle, patient, his large palm cupping your cheek, “need to hear you say it.”

”yes. i’m sure. want you so bad,” the confession was slurred, shy under his adoring gaze. he kissed along your jaw, slow, intentional.

“okay. just know we can stop whenever you want. let me know if it hurts. i wanna hear you, hm?” his eyes searched yours, frantically, making sure you were good.

as you nodded again, he grasped your hand to hold it, letting your fingers intertwine and lay by your head. with the other hand, he took his length and positioned it where you needed him the most.

jeongguk made it all feel so intimate, special, and safe, that you sensed your eyes water with a feeling stronger than the words you could allow yourself to say. you felt eternally grateful to him for turning a moment you used to dread into something so delicate and precious.

you felt adored. you felt seen, and heard. you felt protected, understood. you saw your reflection in his eyes, in a way that made you want to hide in there forever, maybe travel a bit further down and find home in his heart.

as he started easing himself inside you, both of you gasping at the feeling, his hand gripping yours harder, a tear ran down your cheek. it was a mixture of emotions, sensations. the fullness of his cock entering you, the burn that came with it, his eyes widening alarmingly as he noticed the tears welling along your bottom lashes.

he stilled inside you, his tip now nuzzled in your warmth, his breath hitching, “does it hurt? baby, what’s wrong?”

”no, it’s just—“ it was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it. not now. maybe never? you swallowed it down your throat, “it hurts a bit but it feels so good, gguk.”

”yeah? fuck. you’re so tight, princess. taking me in so good,” his praises replaced the hurt, both emotional and physical, with a familiar fuzzy pleasure, pooling in your lower stomach and releasing more of your wetness on his dick, making it easier for him to slip inside you.

he groaned as he bottomed out, your moan higher than intended. you felt him throb inside you, just how he could feel you pulse around him. a string of curses followed as he repeated the slow action, pulling back to his tip only to push back in, making sure you grew accustomed to the feeling.

”gguk. i feel so full,” you cried, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, forcing him to stay still inside you. he growled, kissing along your neck and leaving small bites to contain himself from snapping his hips against you.

it was complicated, with the sounds escaping your lips resounding sweetly in his ears and your hole tightening around him in a torturous manner making him release precum inside the condom.

”baby, can i please move? i’m gonna go crazy,” his voice was strained, whiny, muffled in the crook of your neck as your fingers combed through his hair, unconsciously searching for comfort.

your granting hum was more of a high-pitched whine, but he took it positively as he attempted one first thrust inside you, followed shortly by another. your moans got stuck, the air cut from your throat the more he picked up his pace, lifting his face from your neck and straightening up to admire the scene.

it was better than anything he’d ever witnessed, his thickness stuffed in your tight, virgin hole and taking him in so perfectly. he took his free hand to hold you still by your hip as he pushed himself deeper.

you were a mess underneath him. legs squeezing around him, you barely gave jeongguk space to move. you wailed, his name tumbling out your tongue repeatedly as he fucked into you faster. he’d been so gentle with you until that moment, but now his roughness made you impossibly wetter.

when you let your eyes flutter open, you could feel yourself spasm around him at the sight in front of you. his abs contracted with the effort of his pushes, his cock slammed into you relentlessly, his nipples hardened and called for your touch.

you threw one hand to his pec and felt his firmness under you, gripping it for support as he pounded you with intent, your nails scratching his skin, the sounds of your bodies slapping together overtaking your pleasured moans.

he panted, rambling, “fuck, love this pussy. love fucking this pussy. wanna fuck it forever.”

“made just for me. such a perfect fit.”

“that’s how you’ve been waiting to be fucked, huh? nice and deep, you fucking love that.”

his praises and dirty comments made your head spin, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, letting your mouth hang open and release your cries into the stuffy room.

the sight of your fucked out state underneath his control was going to torture him for the following weeks, he was sure of that. he’d see you, sprawled out on your bed for him, your tits moving up and down with each thrust, your pleasured tears staining your face as his name left your pillowy lips like a mantra, every time he’d close his eyelids.

he had to physically hold himself back from releasing already, his length too sensitive and eager, but he wanted to make this moment last for as long as he could possibly handle. he closed his eyes, but he couldn’t escape you. you were loud, and the hottest thing he’s ever heard.

and then, the challenge became harder when you stuttered, unexpectedly, “wanna ride you.”

he threw his head back, a feverish groan rising up his throat, “fuck. you do, pretty?”

you hummed, just as unhinged, your legs untightening around him and weakly pulling at his arm to try and bring him to lay on the bed. he pulled himself out of you slowly, making you cringe at the emptiness, and as he let his back fall on the soft surface, he lifted your figure effortlessly and led you to straddle him.

now on top of him, you weren’t so confident with your earlier claim anymore. underneath you, jeongguk was panting, his pupils blown out, lips agape, cock laying unattended on his stomach. he stroked your sides comfortingly, subtly pulling you closer, and the action caused your slicked pussy to grind against his balls.

the two of you moaned at the contact, and he immediately took his length to pump it a couple of times, gently tapping it against your tummy. you lifted your hips up, positioning yourself on his tip, looking down at jeongguk for support.

the lazy smile you were met with made your heart stutter in your chest, and you put your hand on top of his, still tightly gripping your hip, as you sank down his dick.

your head was thrown back in pleasure, your back arching into him, and jeongguk had to fight with himself to keep his eyes from fluttering shut, wanting to bask in the image of you.

as you fully took him in, you leaned your weight on the palm that fell on his chest, his hands steadying you promptly by your waist, praise ready on his tongue, “doing so amazing, princess. making me feel so good.”

you attempted moving subtly, trying to adjust to the more intense stretch, and the hand that was still holding his led it to cup your boob, instructing him to knead at it.

he moaned shakily, playing with your tit while you lifted your hips only to sink them down again, tentatively repeating the action and gaining confidence the more his whines got louder.

soon, you lost control. the way your clit would brush against his skin every time you bounced down made you pulse relentlessly around him, grinding into the sensation and rotating your hips on him with intent.

you tried to prevent it, to hold yourself back, but all your resolution dissolved in a second the moment you felt jeongguk’s thumb teasing your nub. you jolted forward, still balancing yourself on his chest, his hand on your breast working to keep you straight.

”gguk, i think— i think i’m close again,” you admitted ashamedly, your cheeks flushing but your desire unable to make you stop rutting your hips against his touch, his cock throbbing around your walls.

”yeah? then cum around it, make me feel it,” his low voice spurred you on, the thumb that was teasing you now slicing on your nipple, spreading your slick on your boob.

and that made you let go, for a third time, convulsing on top of him, your cries louder as you spasmed around his thick length, your cunt hugging him impossibly tighter, and for a moment you genuinely feared he’d get stuck.

the strength taken out of you was enough to make you fall onto him, your face in his neck as you panted frantically, his heartbeat matching the speed of yours under your palm laying on his chest.

jeongguk’s voice was weak as he spoke in your ear, his fingers stroking your back comfortingly, “that was amazing, baby. so good.”

you appreciated his constant praises, a lazy grin spreading on your lips, but you couldn't ignore the way he kept thudding inside you, quiet whines stuck in his throat as he tried to conceal them by clutching your sides tighter, stilling himself.

jeongguk wailed feverishly when you lifted yourself up again, resuming your earlier actions, the ones that were bringing him to the point he badly wanted to reach. he was breathless as he took in the determined glint in your eyes, “fu— fuck. doll, what are you—“

”wanna make you cum, gguk.”

he physically couldn’t hold himself from rolling his eyes far deep, bucking up to meet your hips, and the force of his thrusts threw your weak body back on him again, your hard nipples brushing against his equally stiff ones.

”i’ll fuck you, baby, hm? you already did so good for me,” his words were hushed, whispered, delirious, the sound of them overtaken by the sharp pounding.

but he made sure you could feel every syllable, his lips close to your lobe as you held yourself tightly on his shoulders, “so perfect. letting me fuck you good and deep. gonna make me cum so hard, doll.”

your brain couldn’t process any other kind of response other than loud cries, your cunt being relentlessly abused. the waves of your last orgasm still flowed inside you, the buzz coming back to life as the new position gave him perfect access to your sweet, needy spot, hitting it at an inhumane force.

his effort was translated into deep, raspy growls only pushing you closer to the edge, and you swore you could pass out from the overstimulation. but you basked in it, the tears in your eyes blurring your vision.

”you wanna cum again? i know you can, c’mon. i know you got it in you, pretty. just another one. cum with me.”

his pleading, delirious tone undid you. the way you both released with harsh moans was perfectly synced, his hips jolting you forward as you chased your high against his lower stomach. with a few more pushes, he let go fully inside the condom, all the energy being ripped from him at that moment, his hands freeing your waist from the sharp grip while his head fell weakly on the side.

the two of you were almost wheezing, your exhales shaking in your panting chests as you lifelessly rested on him, slowly being lulled by his breathing.

you didn’t even notice yourself slipping so easily into slumber, and if it weren’t for his delicate touch tracing your closed eyelids and moving your hair behind your ear, his sweet voice preventing you from fully falling unconscious, you would have enjoyed just staying in that position forever.

“sweetheart. you sleepy?”

you only hummed, the sound rough and thick.

he removed himself from you slowly, both of you still gasping at the overstimulation, and he gently laid you on your back before tying the condom and throwing it in the bin next to your nightstand.

as soon as your head hit the pillow, your eyes fluttered shut again. the room spun faintly, and your body, exhausted, ignored every request your mind was screaming at you. you were cold, goosebumps rising on your naked skin; your thighs still trembled, a mess of wetness and slick. but you were too tired to move. you could only lay there, sprawled on the sheets.

luckily, jeongguk thought of everything. his mind was full of you, his only thought being taking care of your figure and making sure you were safe, comforted.

he had taken your virginity. it wasn’t just a physical act— it was a gift you had entrusted him with, something you had kept close to your heart, even through all the fears and anxieties you’d shared with him. you had always been afraid to let go, to give such an intimate part of yourself to someone.

but you trusted him, fully and deeply, in a way that you hadn’t trusted anyone before. that knowledge bloomed in his chest like warmth spreading to every corner of his body. he felt a deep sense of responsibility and gratitude. he wanted to honor that trust.

with care, jeongguk slipped away from your side to retrieve a warm, damp towel. the cool air hit your skin as he left, and you stirred slightly, though not fully awake. when he returned and began gently wiping you down, you startled at the sensation, your eyes slowly fluttering open. you were met with his grinning face, his eyes crinkling at the sides, that same boyish smile that always made your heart skip a beat.

“we should clean up, baby,” he said soft, his voice warm and coaxing as he continued to gently clean the slickness between your legs.

“tired,” you murmured in response, your voice thick with exhaustion. “tomorrow.” the word came out as more of a sigh than anything else. you stretched your arms out toward him, your lips forming a small pout. “cuddle. now.”

jeongguk laughed fondly at your sleepy demands, shaking his head as he tossed the towel to the floor. without a second thought, he slid back into bed beside you, pulling the covers over your naked bodies. the warmth of the blanket and the weight of him beside you immediately soothed the lingering shivers in your body, and you sighed in relief.

instinctively, you reached for him, your leg curling around his, your hands seeking the familiar comfort of his waist. your head rested on his chest, where you could feel the steady thump of his heart beneath your cheek. his arm wrapped around you naturally, his fingers tracing gentle circles along your spine.

it wasn’t unusual for you to cuddle, especially during movie nights, or simply when the other needed comfort.

but this was different. there was a new weight to the way your bodies pressed together, your brain grasping around the reality of what had just happened.

your first instinct faced with that thought was to chuckle lightly, your sleepy brain struggling to come up with any more reasonable reaction. when he hummed and moved to look down at your face, you hid yourself further in his chest, your voice muffled, “i can’t believe you fucked me.”

he sounded tauntingly cocky as he moved your hair from your forehead, “now that you put it like that, well, i did.”

your drowsy state lowered all your inhibitions, your eyes fluttering close as you spilled your honesty, “i’ve been fantasizing about this moment for so long.”

“yeah? what a naughty girl,” his playful tone made you blush, the low voice and the hand grazing at the small of your back making you clench around nothing, still sensitive.

you lightly pushed at his chest with a weak smile, “you literally said you were waiting for it to happen, too.”

jeongguk’s eyes gleamed with amusement, his tone dripping in mock shame, “did i, pretty? did i do that? oh god, how indecent of me.”

the taunting banter went on for a while, your fond grins almost breaking your faces in two halves as you started a quick tickle war. it was almost surreal how easily the two of you slipped back into the habituality of your dynamic, as if nothing had changed at all. and in a way, nothing had. you were still you, and he was still jeongguk— the boy who teased you relentlessly and made you laugh until your stomach hurt.

as the laughter faded, your body began to relax completely, your muscles loosening as you sank further into his embrace. your head rested against his toned pecs, and you could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath your cheek. his fingers continued their gentle caresses along your back, and for the first time in a long while, you felt completely at peace.

but jeongguk, even in the quiet comfort of the moment, couldn’t let it end just yet. his mind was still racing, still full of thoughts of you.

he wanted to hear your voice. wanted to be soothed by its melody. he spoke quietly, almost hesitant, his breath warm against your hair, “don’t fall asleep so soon. i’ll miss you.”

your voice was rough with weariness, but you were quick with your answer, “i’m literally lying on top of you.”

“i know,” he whispered, his thumb brushing softly against your waist. “but i wanna talk to you.”

with great effort, you blinked your eyes open, lifting your head just enough to look at him through half-lidded eyes, “it’s your fault if i can’t talk right now.”

“damn, i got a magic stick,” his voice sounded oddly proud of it and you groaned, hitting him weakly on his stomach and causing him to giggle.

“you’re so gross.”

“you hurt me!” he whined dramatically and it made you roll your eyes amusedly.

chuckling softly, you took his face in your hands and pressed your fingers gently against his lips, “shut up.” your voice was playfully fond as you nestled back against him, your eyelids growing heavier by the second, dozing off again.

at least trying to, because only a minute later his soft voice resounded again.

it was barely audible in the stillness, “___.”

“hmm?”

“i’m so happy.”

his whispered voice tickled your ear and you giggled, brushing it on your shoulder with a sheepish grin on your lips.

you looked up at him through droopy eyelids, both your orbs swimming in a deep feeling you couldn’t name, “i am too. i don’t think i can feel my pussy anymore, but i’m very happy nonetheless.”

your wittiness even after being completely drained of all your energy surprised him, the laugh escaping him moving in his chest and reflecting in your own fond smile.

he left a peck on your forehead, bringing you to lay down on him again, “you’re so silly. i love you.”

the words left his lips so naturally, as if he had always known them to be true, and they sounded so right that it took both of you another moment to realize their implications.

your heart stopped, and both of you froze. your breath hitched and your eyes widened, but you stayed still, too startled to look up at him.

you felt his heart beat impossibly faster in your ear, and you perfectly pictured the shock that was painting his expression right now.

his hands clutched your sides tighter, trying to find a way to keep his running mind from spiraling, your silence not helping whatsoever. he stuttered, “i— i mean. i— oh god, i’m so sorry.”

the hurt in his tone immediately made your chest clench, panic flushing in your veins. you met his eyes alarmedly, jumping between them, “jeongguk. don’t be sorry. you love me?”

he wasn’t sure what to do, couldn’t figure out if the feeling was mirrored as intensely in you as it was in him. it had been building inside him for weeks, lingering beneath the surface, making his heart race and his thoughts blur every time you were near.

the realization hadn’t come to him in a grand, sweeping moment but in the quiet of the bookstore one random afternoon. he had been stacking shelves, mindlessly organizing the rows of novels, when he caught sight of you. you were tucked into a corner, absorbed in a murakami novel, your fingers brushing the edges of the pages with care.

he hadn’t expected you to show up that day. he was sure you’d mentioned having lectures and that you couldn’t meet up with him, so seeing you there, completely unannounced, had startled him.

he remembered standing there for a moment, frozen in place, just staring at you walk through the door. and then you had lifted your head, and your eyes met his across the quiet, sunlit room.

the smile you gave him was sheepish as you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, your confession tumbling out softly, “i skipped my classes. i wanted to be here. needed to see you.”

it was shy, and said with a feeling in your gaze that he was scared to decipher.

but he couldn’t help the way it settled in his heart. stubborn, unmoving. the truth was clearly in front of him, and it took the semblance of your face.

you were the truth. he was in love.

so, he could only be truthful to you, “i— yes. i love you.”

the words sank into your skin, filling you with warmth and a sense of completeness that made your chest swell. you exhaled deeply through your nose, trying to steady the burst of emotion building inside you, but your eyes softened, and a tear slipped down your cheek as you smiled, wide and genuine.

“i love you too, gguk.”

it was a simple reply, but the weight behind it carried everything. you didn’t need to say anything more. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, your lips immediately eating at each other, gulping down your furious flow of thoughts and accepting. hearing. feeling. seeing.

all the times you forced to keep shut and convince yourself that what you saw in him and all his care towards you was just coming from a place that would forever see you two as friends. all the secret touches, the shared meals, the warm nights on your couch. all the books you read for him, all the lines he highlighted for you.

it was love. all along. and you felt its power against him, your heartbeats syncing.

when you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, both of you breathing softly in the quiet aftermath of the confession. jeongguk’s arms tightened around you, pulling you even closer as if he couldn’t bear to let go.

the silence that followed wasn’t awkward or uncertain. it was peaceful. comfortable.

and lulled by the quiet, jeongguk ended up being the first to fall asleep, his nervous energy fading away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment. his breathing became slow and steady, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his muscles relaxing.

despite your earlier exhaustion, you were too wired to sleep. you were still flowing with excitement. the night’s events hit you with great force, and kept you wide awake.

quietly, you reached for your phone on the nightstand, careful not to disturb jeongguk. the screen lit up, showing the time. 3:47 am.

even though it was late, you couldn’t resist. you pulled up jimin’s contact and pressed the call button. waiting. he was always awake at this hour.

jimin had been your best friend for years. your loyal confidant, the one you could splutter all your feelings to and never be judged. he had been by your side all along this particular ride, going from a silly, little crush to feeling raging love for the boy in your arms.

you smiled wide at the prospect of jimin’s reaction at the news you were about to share with him. he was the first person you wanted to inform, he deserved to know.

“bitch, don’t tell me you’re crying over jeongguk, ‘cause—“

those are the first words that came through the line, and they made you silently chuckle at the irony, immediately engaging in his banter, “well, sorta kinda. he said he loves me.”

there was a beat of silence on the other end, followed by jimin’s amused scoff, “wow. crazy news. would have never guessed.”

you were stunned, to say the least. your mouth hung open as you whisper-yelled, “bitch! is this seriously all you have to say?”

you were mindful not to wake jeongguk with your conversation, looking down at him with care. his cheek was squished on your small breast, his mouth pouting and releasing heavy puffs. one of his hands rested protectively over your side, and his thumb brushed your under boob.

he was cozily nestled between your legs, his wavy hair brushing your chin, and he looked so peaceful it was like he was made to be held by you.

you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes as jimin’s next words accompanied the view of the boy you loved, now finally yours.

“babe, c’mon, it was obvious.”

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🌊] DISCIPLINE: SWIMMING

PAIRING: swimmer!mingyu x swimmer!fem reader GENRE: fluff, friends to lovers(ish), idiots that doesn't realise the other one is in love with them too, mingyu is a tease but also down bad WARNINGS: the reader gets hurt (hits her head, nothing too descriptive), mingyu is a hottie WORD COUNT: 3k

SYNOPSIS: what will it take for you and mingyu to finally understand that you're literally meant to be?

natalia's note: @wonijinjin the broad back and bulging biceps are for you

“i can’t do this anymore.” 

mingyu's words hit you like a speeding train. 

you quickly lifted your head from where you were looking at your fingers splashing the water, facing your best friend. 

“w-what?” you asked, horrified. “what do you mean?” 

his shoulders dropped, causing the water to ripple around your bodies, and you couldn’t shake off the feeling that you wouldn’t like what he was about to say next. 

“i can’t do this anymore. i can’t watch you lose again and again,” he sighed, and dived under the red lane line, emerging a second later right next to you. “it’s,” he took a breath, “heartbreaking.” 

with how close he was to you now you didn’t have a choice but to look up, which was stupid because come on - you were in the water. a wole ass swimming pool. like, he could literally submerge himself a little bit more and you’d be eye level, but no. kim mingyu had to flash everyone in the damn room with his godly sculptured chest and shoulders. 

you mentally scolded yourself for losing the last ounces of your dignity over a man, because why was it so hard for you to peel your eyes off his pecs? and a quiet voice inside your head was telling you that mingyu didn’t do this by accident - he knew how it affected you. but it shouldn’t. you were best friends after all. 

and best friends didn’t look at each other’s chests. and wide shoulders. and bulging biceps. 

“then stop being such a bitch, kim mingyu,” you cleared your throat, suddenly very interested in the purple “paris 2024” banners over his head. “if it’s breaking your heart then that’s your problem, not mine.”  

mingyu rolled his eyes, and quickly lifted his hand to splash water at you, making you shriek. what a shame god didn’t bless you with quicker reflexes, so you could cover your eyes at least. it was funny how people used to tell your coach that it would be for the best to split your training sessions because you didn’t get on well with each other, while in reality you got on well a bit too much. 

“uh, excuse moi?” you cringed at his horrible attempt to speak french, “you’re calling the three time world champion and two time olympic gold medalist a bitch?” he put his hand over his heart. 

“then why don’t you want to race with me anymore?” you practically whined. “are you afraid of getting beaten by a girl? would that do damage to your reputation in the olympic village?” you giggled at his unamused stare. “i’m sure the gymnasts would be very disappointed to find out you’re not as big and strong as they thought,” you pouted at him, mockingly. 

“i told you baby, i don’t want to see you lose again, simple as that” mingyu put his hand on your shoulder. “can’t you race against ava or liv?” 

you weren’t sure if it was better to go underwater or to call for the medics at this point. this infuriatingly hot man just called you baby for god’s sake and he had his hand placed so close to your neck it felt as if he was cradling it. luckly you could blame the cold water for your shivering. the worst part - you were 99% sure you saw him make out with alexa before going to paris, so all of the sweet words and gentle touches were platonic. 

they meant nothing. 

which… were you even surprised? the hottest guy making out with the hottest girl on the team. both multiple champions. both insanely talented. 

still, you wouldn’t give up, and that definitely wasn’t because of your delusions that you could pull the hottest and the best swimmer on the continent, but because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

“you’re not fooling me, kim mingyu. i think you’re just scared of me beating you.” 

he scoffed, and finally lowered himself into the water. thank heavens. “okay then. what do you say about one last race to finish this training off?” mingyu said, and sent you a challenging look, which he knew would rile you up even more. 

“deal,” you shook his extended hand. “but don’t come crying to me when you lose.” 

“as you wish, my queen,” he bowed his head, and snickered. “but-,” 

“no buts,” you cut him off. 

“ah, ah,” he pointed a finger at you. “if you lose you have to take a bath in the seine.” 

sometimes you wondered why exactly you had a crush on him because stuff like these reminded you he was only a man. more like a man-child, but that was if you wanted to be nitpicky. 

“that’s illegal, you moron.” 

you swore you’d drown him one of these days.

with the goggles over your eyes you swam under the lane line to have a whole lane for yourself, because there was no way you’d fit in one lane with mingyu. 

“okay champ, let’s see-,” suddenly you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“je suis désolé, mais tu dois sortir de l'eau. les préparatifs pour la course vont bientôt commencer,” one of the volunteers was crouching by the edge of the pool with his hand outstretched in your direction. 

“uh,” you shot mingyu a quick look, “i’m sorry, je ne comprends pas.” i don’t understand. the only french you managed to learn before coming to paris, which you figured would come in handy, and as it turned out - it did. a point for you. 

“the competition,” the guy scratched the back of his neck, clearly trying to find the right words. “begin soon.” 

“do you want us to get out of the pool?” mingyu asked, pointing at him and you and then the outside of the pool. 

“yes, yes,” the volunteer nodded quickly. 

well, you could wave your race bye bye. 

maybe the universe didn’t want you and mingyu together, maybe all you were destined to be was friends? besides, one silly race wouldn’t make a difference, if anything, it would probably lead to you pulling a muscle, which would mean a big disaster with your eliminations right around the corner. 

your fate was to end up alone for the rest of your life, crying over a guy you could never have. typical. 

“shit,” mingyu sighed, taking off his goggles. “i really wanted to race you.” 

you sent him a quick smile, dismissing his teasing tone. the quicker you’d realise this wouldn’t work out the better for your poor heart. 

“yeah, that’s a bummer,” you said, grabbing onto the edge of the pool to pull yourself up. 

mingyu grinded his teeth and side eyed the volunteer. if it weren't for the dozens of people around you who were clearly starting to prepare for the race, he would have thrown the guy into the water with his own bare hands. 

“thanks for being a cockblock, dude.”

well, not literally, but this had to be the first time mingyu managed to talk to you without stuttering every other word and not acting that embarrassing. but no. someone had to sweep in and take this away from him. 

“be careful,” mingyu ran a hand over his face, and looked over to you, “the tiles might be slippery.” 

“you don’t say,” you said, and shot him a glare. “im not that-.” 

but before you could finish your sentence one of your hands slipped and you lost the grip, splashing back into the pool. 

“hey, hey,” mingyu immediately swam up to you, closing the gap between your bodies in seconds. “are you okay?” he put his arm around your waist, turning you around in his grip so you’d face him. 

shit.

“did you hit your head?” he asked quickly, taking off your cap. fuck, mingyu felt his lunch creeping back into his throat. if anything happened to you… 

“mhm, i think so,” you answered, disoriented. your vision was clearly unsteady and you were shaking in his embrace, though he didn’t know if that was due to the cold water or the hit. 

“fuck,” he muttered, running his hand gently over your head to look for any cuts or bruises. “we need to get you out of the water.” 

you nodded your head slowly, but that was a bad call, because it only made you more nauseous and made your vision even worse. 

“hey, don’t move. put your other arm around my neck and hold onto me,” mingyu said. 

“but i’m heavy.” 

“shut it or i’ll leave you here,” mingyu grumbled, and tightened his hold around you. 

with ease, as if he was born in the water, mingyu managed to get you to the edge of the pool with ladders, and called for help.

“i’m such a loser,” you mumbled, resting your head against his shoulder. “almost passing out in the middle of an olympic swimming pool,” you let out a bitter laugh, before whimpering. maybe making bad jokes right after almost cracking your skull open wasn’t a good idea. 

mingyu didn’t say anything but you could feel his body tense. 

“she hit her head on the tiles,” he said once the medics made their way over to you. 

they quickly helped him get you out of the water without causing you more pain and laid you on the stretcher. the medics whispered something between them, or maybe you were just so out of it that you couldn’t understand what they were saying, but you could clearly make out mingyu’s voice in between. 

suddenly, you felt as if you were being lifted off the ground, but your blurry vision made it impossible for you to see what exactly was going on. 

“min-mingyu?” you called out. 

“i’m here baby, don’t worry,” mingyu said, and reached for your hand, grasping it tightly so you’d know he was really right there next to you. 

“stop calling me that,” you said, your tone bossy as usual. 

“stop calling you what?” mingyu couldn’t help but giggle when he heard you scoff. good, that meant you weren’t that badly hurt. 

“baby.” 

“what if i don’t want to?” he asked, and ran a thumb over the back of your hand, smiling to himself when he felt your fingers wrap tighter around his.  

you shook your head, or at least you tried to. “then i’ll race you and if i win you’ll stop.” 

“you know i won’t let that happen,” he said softly. 

“stop messing with my heart, kim mingyu.” 

a champion, an olympics medalist, a man made of steel, and still, mingyu felt like he was melting under your gaze. your big eyes looking up at him, your soft lips parted in a slight gasp, your gentle fingers holding onto him for dear life…  

“i won’t,” he shook his head. “not until you stop messing with mine.” 

as it turned out, luckily for you, the impact didn’t cause much damage. “it caused panic more than anything else,” the doctor said. 

“so i’ll be able to race on monday, right?” you asked, twisting the rings around your fingers nervously. the olympics were something you sacrificed your whole life for - you couldn’t remember the last time you slept in, the last time you ate dinner with your family, the last time you had time for yourself, and if all of that would go to waste because of a stupid mistake… you didn’t know what you’d do. 

“don’t worry, you’ll be just fine for the race. i think your boyfriend overreacted a bit out there,” the doctor laughed. “maybe more than a bit.” 

you almost choked on the pills you were swallowing, your face burning with heat. the doctor feeding into your delusions was a big no no, and you definitely did not need that right now. 

“you might want to text him though, he was sitting outside the whole time we were running tests. had to send him back to the village,” he sighed, “he looked like a kicked puppy.” 

that was dangerous, and you needed to get out of there quickly. 

mingyu, on the other hand, couldn’t stop worrying. after the doctor sent him off, he didn’t really know what to do with himself, and he definitely didn’t know how he ended up sitting in front of the door to your room. 

god, he was being so pathetic. instead of telling you how and what he felt, he was acting like a lame highschooler trying to impress you with what? being a faster swimmer? mingyu was never good at flirting but this had to be his lowest low. 

„gyu? what are you doing here?” his head shot up, and there you were - safe and sound. no bandages, nothing. for the first time since he got out of that damn swimming pool he took in a deep, proper breath. 

“the doctor he, um…,” 

“i know.” 

“you know?”

“i know,” you nodded. why did he look so nervous all of a sudden? “shouldn’t you be at the gym? preparing for tomorrow?” 

right. the race. 

“i probably should,” more than “probably” to be honest. your trainer would most likely have killed him already if not for the fact that he was the best swimmer on the team. “but i needed to know that you were okay.” 

“you could’ve just texted, you know,” you said. why was he being so… un-mingyu?

he shook his head, and stood up to his full 6 feet 2. “let me put it this way,” he took a step towards you, “i needed to see if you were okay.”

was he really about to risk your whole friendship? all this time spent on getting to know you, your likes and dislikes, what annoyed you and how he could push your buttons to see that bright smile on your face that always made his day a bit better. he didn’t want to lose all of that. 

but… mingyu felt his hands reaching out for you on their own to make sure that you weren’t in pain anymore, to kiss any bump or scratch to make it better, to hold you close to his chest this evening and keep you safe from all the wet tiles. 

“listen,” he scratched the back of his neck. he needed to do something with his hands. “i have to tell you one thing, and please just let me say it because i don’t think i’ll have enough courage to say it ever again.” 

you nodded your head, your gaze slightly confused. 

it was now or never. 

“okay, so i know we’re technically only friends from work, but not really since we hang out otherwise, and we’ve known each other for how long now? three years? and that’s great, i love training with you, and going to competitions with you, and hanging out with you, but lately… or not lately, really. for a long time-,” 

„mingyu,” you sighed, but the boy kept on rambling. „min,” you tried again, to no avail. „gyu!” 

finally, the man in front of you fell silent, looking at you with eyes wide and mouth agape. 

“i,” you took a deep breath. you knew exactly where this was going. „i can’t do this right now,” you said, and watched the spark in mingyu’s eyes die out. “with what happened today, and the eliminations tomorrow… i just can’t deal with this right now,” god, this broke your heart. “i need some rest, and i need some sleep,” you added. “besides, i also have the relay tomorrow, so i need to focus. this is not only about me, but about the girls. i can’t let them down.”   

mingyu’s heart dropped. if he knew this would end like this, then why was he feeling so disappointed? but he couldn’t be mad at you, no. it wasn’t your fault you weren’t feeling the same, and it definitely wasn’t your fault for wanting some rest. the olympics meant so much to you, and he knew how excited you were for them - he wouldn’t take that happiness away from you. 

„of-of course,” mingyu said, though his voice, his body language, his gaze - his everything, screamed anything but „of course”. he nodded his head and shrugged. „i’ll see you later then.”

you quickly grabbed his arm before he could turn around. „gyu,” you said. „i can’t deal with this now, but i never said i couldn’t deal with this ever.” 

he was so cute, you couldn’t help but hide your smile behind your hand. with slightly dishevelled hair (probably from running his fingers through them too much), un-matching shirt and pants, which you were sure were from last season, and his mingyu smile that showed off his canines… you’d have to be stupid and blind not to have a massive crush on this man. 

„r-really?” 

you nodded your head.

“maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?” you said, and slid your hand down his arm to his hand. “after the eliminations?” 

mingyu looked down wide-eyed at your hand holding his. was this really happening? maybe he was the one to hit his head? his poor heart and fuzzy brain couldn’t actually believe that the girl he had been pining after for god knows how long was actually saying that… that she liked him back? huh, if this was a dream he hoped he’d never wake up. 

“yes,” he breathed. “we can do that.” 

“great,” you smiled, and mingyu felt his heart skip a beat. “you’ll be watching me tomorrow, right?”

“you know i will,” mingyu said, squeezing your hand, and this - your hand in his - this felt right. this was right, and this was how it was always supposed to be. “i always do.” 

and then he did something that almost knocked you off your feet. 

he quickly closed the gap between you, pushing your body gently against the door behind you, and placed a soft peck on your cheek. you almost didn’t notice how his strong arm had snuck around you, holding your waist in a featherlight touch that didn’t quite match his strong hands and big biceps, or how the other one cradled the side of your face, and how his thumb stroked your cheek. almost.

and it was only a kiss on the cheek. 

“good luck, baby.”

Going Seventeen Ep. 74 'Finding KSY'

juno [hong joshua]

MDNI, 18+

SUMMARY | one of me is cute, but two though? give it to me baby

PAIRING | nonidol/fiance!joshua x afab!reader

CONTENT | unprotected sex (pls stay safe), fingering, few degrading names, breeding, mentions of pregnancy, just smut in general lol. lowercase intended

WORDS | 2.6k

A/N | inspired by juno by sabrina carpenter, highly recommend listening to it while reading. have fun babes!

joshua was perfect. it was no surprise that when he asked you to marry him, you said yes with no hesitation. even after four years of dating, he knew how to keep you off your feet, he knew how to love you right, and he knew how to fuck you right.

even out of your past relationships, no one knew how to make you feel good as much as joshua did. which is why you couldn’t help but stare at him as he took group pictures with his friends.

you were at a bar with his friends to celebrate seungcheol’s birthday. joshua was wearing a white button-up with the sleeves tucked up to his arms, which you couldn't help but go insane at. you don't know what it is, he has looked the same as he pretty much has all the four years you have known him, but somehow he looked even hotter than you could ever imagine. before leaving the apartment, you were already in a needy mood from watching your fiance prepare for this party. he was trying on different shirts in front of you and was asking for your opinions on them, even though you’d rather he just take them off.

you were pulled out of your thoughts when you spotted joshua walking towards you with a sweet grin on his face. you reciprocated his smile, his hand reaching your waist once he was near you.

“hi, beautiful.” joshua kissed you on the forehead, which sent sparks all over your body. “enjoying yourself?” his thumb rubbed circles on your waist, a small habit he found himself doing a lot once his hands were near your body. you already were in a dizzy state from the mere sight of him, him touching you in any way made you feel like your body was on fire. maybe you were ovulating?

cheeks flushed, you hummed in response, putting your drink down on the bar and admiring his slicked-back hair with strands falling off on the side. this was one of your top five favorite looks of him. he looked so sexy tonight, even with the dim lights of the club, you could make out the way his lips looked so plump and kissable, you couldn’t wait to just kiss the fuck out of him when the two of you are finally in private.

“y/n! joshua!” a distant voice called out, leaning your head towards the voice, you saw a very drunk seungcheol making his way towards the both of you, a small gift bag in hand. Halting in front of you, a cheeky smile on his face. “here’s a little thank you for coming to my party tonight, " he said, handing you the bag, a confused look on your face, glancing over joshua, who just shrugged at you. you took the bag from his hand, peeking over the top to see the contents inside.

pink fluffy handcuffs. that’s what was inside the gift bag. you couldn’t help but laugh at the silly gift. “really, cheol?” handing joshua the bag so he could check it out for himself.

“i want all my guests to have a fun afterparty!” he said, wrapping his arms around joshua’s shoulder. as much as the gift was indeed silly, you couldn’t help but imagine joshua using them on you in bed as if you weren’t already craving for him.

joshua smirked, eyes facing you. as if he could read your mind, he leaned in your ear. “can’t wait to try them out tonight.” making your stomach flip.

-

the entire ride home, joshua was teasing the hell out of you. his hand on your thigh while the other was on the steering wheel, sliding it down dangerously near your cunt. the little shit knew what he was doing, complementing you the entire time, telling you how your ass looked great in your red dress. he even mentioned the stupid pink handcuffs, asking if you were down to use it. you were more than down, of course, it wasn’t the first time you and joshua were going to incorporate toys into your sex life. but you couldn’t wait for the ride to end because you were so fucking horny, and he was all to blame.

you barely made it past your apartment door, and your lips were already attached to your irritatingly handsome fiance. he reciprocated your hunger, his hands roaming all over your body, pushing your coat off of your shoulders before settling his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

“what got you so worked up, princess?” he whispered, flipping you around so your back was against the door. your hands reached up to unbutton his shirt, his head leaning down to nuzzle his face on your neck, leaving soft kisses against it. you were too embarrassed to admit that you were just adoring him and got yourself horny.

successfully unbuttoning the last button, joshua lifted his head and tapped your thighs before helping you wrap your legs around his waist. he guided you towards your shared bedroom, grabbing the small gift bag dangling from your wrist and throwing it on the bed. he gently propped you down on the edge of the bed and kneeled in front of you, eyes lustfully trained on you. you couldn’t help but bite your lip at the sight of him, his unbuttoned shirt giving you a peek of his toned chest. his hand made its way to your ankle, unclasping the lock of your heels. of course, he had to be a romantic lover. you kicked the heels off your feet, grazing his fingers on your feet, up to your thigh as he stood up. you felt a pool gather at your underwear.

“shua…” you whimpered. he shrugged his shirt off, leaving him in his black slacks. his hard cock evident against his pants. you wanted nothing more than to stuff your mouth with his thick cock.

“look at you, you’re practically drooling.” his finger hooked the strap of your dress, dragging it down your shoulder in an awfully slow manner. you glared at his pace, which he only chuckled at. “patience, princess.” your dress was now resting on your waist, boobs on full display which made joshua lick his lips. “beautiful.” he walked in between your legs, hand reaching to the nape of your neck, leaning down and pulling you into a sweet kiss. you reached up to undo the latch of his belt, excitement roaring throughout your body at the thought of finally having him after an entire day of endless torture. he pulled away from you, chuckling when you were obviously having a hard time getting rid of his damned belt, aiding you in removing the belt away from his pants.

joshua walked away from you, making you frown, but he just circled the bed to grab the gift bag that was discarded on the bed. returning to you, he sat next to you, patting his lap for you to climb into. you stood up, your dress falling to your feet, leaving you in just your lacy underwear. you sat on his lap, straddling his legs, feeling his hardened cock against your still clothed core. you whimpered at the sensation, jerking your hips forward to feel some kind of friction, making joshua tut.

“what an impatient little slut, hm? i bet you can’t wait for my cock to be stuffed in you, is that right, princess?” you couldn't care less about how pathetic you looked right now, you needed to be fucked by him badly.

“i need you so bad, shua.” you whined, placing your hands against his chest. your core practically aching with need.

“since you said it so nicely.” he supported you by your ass, flipping you around so that you were laying on the bed. he quickly unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, sliding them off of him. his cock practically begging to come out of the restraints, which were his boxers. you bit your lip at the sight of him, wanting nothing more than to bury his cock in your mouth. his body hovered over you, climbing in between your legs, giving you a sweet kiss on the lips before his mouth trailed over to your jaw, neck, and finally, your breasts. he enclosed one of your nipples with his mouth, swirling his tongue over the sensitive bud while his hand kneaded your other breast, fingers toying with the nipple. you moaned at the sight of him desperately licking your breast, hand flying to grip his hair.

“fuck, baby.” you gasped as he gently used his teeth on your nipple, feeling him smile against you. pulling away, he reached for the handcuff that was inside the bag.

“hands above your head, princess,” he ordered, and you followed quickly; you absolutely loved it when joshua took command in the bedroom. he wrapped the fuzzy handcuff around both your wrists, not before leaving a gentle kiss on your hand. “tell me if it’s uncomfortable, hm?”

“shut up and fuck me already.” joshua laughed, hooking his fingers around the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down your legs and discarding them somewhere in the room. he circled his fingers around your clit, which made you shiver. he lined his index finger in your entrance, sliding your wetness between your folds and up to your clit, rubbing it just enough to drive you crazy. teasing you, he lightly inserted the tip of his finger before quickly pulling out, which made you gasp. “shua, please.” you pleaded, and he finally inserted two digits in your entrance without saying anything. soft whimpers escaped your lips, as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, slightly curling it every so often.

“you like that, baby? look at you, you're a whimpering mess just because of my fingers.” his gaze on you intense, as he quickened his pace. his thumb toying with your clit as he moved his fingers inside you. your hands fell to wrap it around his neck, but he grabbed your arm and returned it above your head. “if you move, i’ll stop.” you nodded. throwing your head back and arching your back when he added another finger. he attached his lips to your breast that was in his face, lapping the nipple around his tongue which drove you over the edge.

“oh my god! that feels so good, please, baby.” jerking your hips upwards to meet his hand.

“fuck, baby, your pussy’s always so tight for me, huh?” you felt an all-familiar knot gather at your stomach, and joshua must have felt that you were close because he picked up his pace even more. “so perfect, so needy for me. how bad do you want to come, baby?” his eyes trained on you as you could barely keep yours open.

“so bad, baby, p-please let me come. I want you to fuck me already.” joshua leaned down and placed kisses on your neck, feeling your pussy clench around his fingers as he repeatedly hit the spongy part that makes you dizzy.

“you take my fingers so well, princess.” grabbing your hand, he placed it against his clothed bludge. “can’t wait to have my cock inside you. come on, baby, come for me.” that was all you needed to hear before you felt your inside explode, moaning his name as you came undone on his fingers. pulling his fingers out, he brought them to his mouth, collecting your juices with his tongue, not wasting a single drop. your body still recovering from the high you felt

when joshua was finally done, he pulled away from your body and removed his boxers. his cock springing against his stomach, all hard and spurts of pre-cum dripping from the head. he wrapped his hand around the shaft, pumping it a few times before reaching up to your wrists. he unlocked the cuffs, hands gently rubbing the skin that was in contact with it. he returned his position over your body, hands on either side of your head as he attached his lips to yours once again. feeling his cock graze your cunt.

“wanna fuck you so bad,” joshua whispered against your lips, gripping his cock with one hand as he rubbed the head against your folds. “you’d like that, wouldn’t you? you’re such a slut for my cock, huh?” he pushed his cock into you, your mouth falling open into a silent gasp at the sudden sensation. you have been waiting for him all day and now you have finally received your wish. he stops inside you for a second to let you adjust, but it doesn’t take long before he starts moving in and out of you. “so fucking tight for me.” he groaned, grabbing your legs and pushing it against your shoulder as he repeatedly rammed his cock against you.

“o-oh my god, josh.” grabbing a fistful of sheets as you felt his cock kiss your cervix from the position you were in. his every thrust left you breathless, panting his name as he quickened his pace. sweat was forming on joshua’s forehead, his free hand sneaking down to your clit, rubbing circles that made you see stars.

“i fucking love your tight pussy, baby.” crying out for him as he leaned down to kiss you while continuing his thrusts. you felt your second orgasm forming at your stomach, which caused you to bite his lip lightly. “mhm want to come inside you, baby. let me make you pregnant.” he grunted against you which made you even more wet, if that was even possible.

you moaned at the thought of joshua filling you up. you loved him, and you couldn't wait to marry him. giving him a baby was definitely one of your plans, so it did not faze you when he wanted to do just that.

“make me a mommy, shua.” you managed to let out, which made joshua smile. he pulled his cock away completely before slamming it inside you without warning, making you throw your head back.

“good girl, take my fucking cock, baby.” the pained pleasure of his cock repeatedly hitting your cervix brought tears to your eyes. it hurts so fucking good.

joshua’s eyes focused on your tits that were bouncing with every thrust of his. you looked perfect taking in his cock so well. you would look even better with his cum spilling inside your pussy.

“baby, i can’t–” you cried out, your hands gripping his shoulders. walls clenching around his cock, as your orgasm forms around your belly. he straightened his body, his hands guiding you to wrap your legs around his waist. his pace absolutely addicting as you felt his dick twitch inside you.

“fuck! baby, i'm so close.” his thrusts got sloppy as he neared his climax. you turned into putty under his grip as he fucked you through your orgasm. chanting his name as you came for the second time. seconds later, you felt his warm cum paint inside your walls. “god, i love you.” he groaned, leaning down to desperately kiss you.

after a few moments, he pulled his cock out of you, cum spilling out of you. he dragged his fingers into your entrance to push back the cum that was dripping out, which made you jump.

joshua laughed, “sorry, baby. wouldn’t want to waste a drop for mommy.” his body dropping beside you, pulling your body close to his chest. “did you mean it? do you want to start a family with me?” wrapping his fingers with yours.

“of course i do. one of me is cute, but two though? i bet we’d be even cuter.”

Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes)

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff, suggestive, idiots in love, they’re both big ol’ chickens

Warnings: drinking

Length: ~1k

Note: idiots to lovers is my favorite trope :) I might write some drabbles based on this pair in the future

Sequel: Drunk Goggles (Heart Eyes) II

Related Drabbles:

Pre-Drunk Goggles (in order): Peaches [f], Bite the Bullet [f, h], Jealousy [a, h]

Post-Drunk Goggles (in order): Silk [s], Aphrodite [f, s], Discovery [s], Lucky Me [f], adamas et aurum [f], Honey [s, f], Baby Blues [f]

“You’re cute.” You giggle, dragging out the last syllable in a whine.

Mingyu’s blood freezes, caught between wanting to feed into your drunken stupor and wanting to push you off completely. You’re too close. The smell of your shampoo and perfume clouding his nose, palm burning against the muscle of his chest, teasing smile and hooded gaze drawing him in. The booth in the corner of the packed club was a godsend after hours of dancing and drinking but now Mingyu thinks it might be the place where he dies from cardiac arrest.

You two had been friends for years but lately your relationship toed the line. The friendly dynamic shifted at some point, subtle at the time but echoing loud and clear now. Like a stream changed into rapids before you noticed, sucking one in and swallowing them whole. Lingering touches gave way to heated gazes; tension palpable but never acknowledged. And because neither of you said anything, nothing ever happened; one person always retreating before reaching the point of no return.

Of course the first time you admit any sort of attraction to him is when you’re three sheets to the wind and can barely stand straight. Mingyu himself is no better, mind fogged with the liquor pumping through his veins courtesy of the shots Soonyoung kept distributing. Mingyu can’t speak, tongue dry from the words dying in his throat. All he can see, smell, and feel is you; pressed against him in a way that is less than friendly.

You don’t even bother to conceal the way your eyes are trained on Mingyu’s mouth, mind far away. All your thoughts focus on if his lips are as soft as they look. If you kissed him right now, would he kiss you back? Would he let you touch him? Would he touch you?

Mingyu watches with baited breath as you lean infinitesimally closer, eyes sliding shut, chin lifting slightly. But you’re drunk, and the grace you think you possess left the building long ago. You end up collapsing face first into Mingyu’s neck, lips sliding against the hot skin causing the muscles underneath to jump in surprise. You’ve already accepted the change of direction, now content to take a rest in the crook of his shoulder as the thud of music lulls you closer to sleep.

“W—“ Mingyu clears his throat, “we should go.”

You hum in agreement but make no effort to move away.

“Y/N, baby,” he shakes you gently, “let’s go home.”

With Herculean effort, and gentle prodding from your best friend, you leave the safety and warmth of Mingyu’s body to shimmy out of the booth. When Mingyu gets up after you, he places his hand to the small of your back to guide you to the exit.

Once outside, you wrap around each other again, like magnets that can’t be pulled apart. The sudden chill of midnight air has you turning back into his chest, the arm previously on your back curling low on your waist. Mingyu uses his free hand to order an Uber, resting his chin on your head while the app loads.

“We didn’t say bye to everyone.” You mumble into his T-shirt.

“They’ll be fine.” Mingyu laughs, focusing on his phone.

“You said that last time and Chan still called at 3am to ask if we got home safe.”

We. The simple word has Mingyu’s ears turning red. We, like you’re a couple. We, like you're going home to an apartment you share rather than the one you live alone in and he finds himself crashing at more and more frequently. He brushes off the thought, choosing to focus on getting a car as soon a possible.

Not one to be ignored, you turn your gaze upwards, chin now resting against Mingyu’s sternum. The shift breaks his attention from his phone and he looks down his nose at you.

“Just text the group, pretty sure a few of them left already anyway.” He dares to drop a quick kiss to your furrowing brow, pleased when it relaxes under his lips.

“Ubers here.” Mingyu steps back, snagging your hand to pull you behind him.

The ride home is a blur. The heat of Mingyu’s arm under your cheek and the way his fingers play with yours on his lap keep you from falling asleep completely but you remain in the hypnotic state between wakefulness and dreams. Here you can pretend Mingyu is your doting boyfriend, that all the sweet drunk kisses and daring touches have a deeper meaning.

When you feel the car slow to a stop you open your eyes to the driver pulling up to the curb in front of your apartment. Mingyu is gently ushering you out of the backseat and into the warmth of the lobby as quickly as possible.

While waiting for the elevator, you invade his space once more. In your mind, the need for warmth is the perfect excuse to disregard the usual touching limit you impose on yourself. It’s easy to get addicted to having Mingyu like this and you dread the hurt that’ll come if you let yourself be too greedy. But tonight, you let your arms wrap around his waist once again and fall into him.

When the elevator chimes its arrival, Mingyu tries to keep your bodies intertwined and walk you backwards into the compartment. He stumbles the entire way, having to balance for two since you’re barely trying to hold yourself up. All you can do is whine at him to be more careful and he does everything he can not to crowd you against the wall and kiss you until you’re both gasping for air.

More stumbles, more giggles, and a crushed foot later, you finally make it into your apartment. Shoes discarded at the door, you pull Mingyu down the hall to your room. You change into your pajamas in silence, an oversized T-shirt for you (Mingyu doesn’t comment on the fact that it looks suspiciously like the one he noticed missing weeks ago), and a pair of sweat shorts for him (you don’t comment on how his bare chest is giving you less than friendly thoughts). As you both dive under the covers, moving to settle yourselves amongst the soft sheets, sleep rushes to takeover.

You’re mumbling something against Mingyu’s chest that he can’t quite decipher but the movement of your lips on his bare skin makes his heart lurch and his stomach twist in knots. However, it's the gentle kiss you leave on his collarbone before drifting into your dreams that leaves his mind in a tailspin.

Tomorrow. He thinks. He’ll tell you everything he’s feeling tomorrow.

endpoint

Pairing: Jeon Wonwoo x f!reader

Genre: fluff, smut, angst, FWB to idiots to lovers

warnings:  cumshot/facial, unprotected sex, multiple sex scenes, oral sex (m & f receiving), rough sex, breath play (choking), mentions of exhibitionism, face fucking, virgin wonwoo mentions, idiots in love, edging (emotionally), impact play, sir kink (brief), alcohol consumption

Length: ~19.5k

Note: thank you to @gyuswhore my love, my life, for suffering through this with me. this fic is set in the same universe as her gyu fic for this collab so check it out (threat). also thank u @haologram and everyone else who beta'd this for me bc im sensitive. follow @camandemstudios for more fics!!! i will come back later and tag the people who commented on the teaser but rn im getting day drunk hehehe

summary: Senior year of college is meant to be full of celebration and smooth sailing. Years of work culminating in the final semesters that will send you off into the real world where clubs, sports, and weekends packed with hungover volunteering to pad your resume no longer mattered. It’d be a piece of cake if it wasn’t for your fuck buddy turned coworker having the same plan. But only one of you can get the department’s most coveted recommendation that all but guarantees your acceptance. Tension rises and the nearly four year thing you’ve had with Wonwoo approaches its endpoint.

collab m.list || m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“What’s the difference between a proton and an electron again?”

“Shoot me in the fucking head,” Wonwoo whispers harshly.

He’s a seat over, a laptop covered in gaming stickers and a coffee cup containing a lethal amount of caffeine occupying the space atop the narrow lecture desk. It’s a feign to productivity. His screen is split between thesis notes and a countdown to a new video game release that unfortunately hits 0 in the middle of lecture. 

Dr. Wagner’s intro to chemistry  course isn’t difficult – freshman aside – which is why you and Wonwoo agreed to be her teaching assistants. Easy money and a way to get in her good graces come grad school application season. You’ve TA’ed the same course since sophomore year for different professors but it’s all the same; the metaphorical killing field before hopeful freshmen become cannon fodder in the real trial of will: O Chem. 

“Me first,” you whisper back. 

Wonwoo slumps in his chair, opening the shared drive keeping track of problem areas to touch on in lab hours, and typing “check for basic brain activity” under the class To-Do list. 

Fair enough. If they can’t understand the basics this far into the semester then you two are in for a world of hurt for the next practical. You're in for a world of hurt come next study hall when half of them will complain about failing their quiz this morning despite having the answers spoon fed straight from the notes.

[09:48] You:  be nice

[09:48] wonwoo: if they were smarter, id be nicer

[09:48] You: maybe they’re scared stupid

It wouldn’t be too far off. One time a freshman burst into tears while asking Wonwoo to check their practice work during lab hours. Wonwoo swears he didn’t say anything and the kid looked on the verge of a mental breakdown if the wind blew the wrong way.

[09:48] wonwoo: from what?

[09:48] You: the fact ur trying to kill them with your mind

[09:49 ]wonwoo : i wouldn’t kill them

[09:49] wonwoo: just maim or seriously injure so they dont come to class and say dumb shit

Dr. Wagner fields more questions in front of the powerpoint. More ‘dumb shit’ Wonwoo rolls his eyes at with such obvious disgust even you feel chastised. Luckily, no one can see his face from the front row besides you.

[09:49] You: you wonder why they like me more

[09:50] wonwoo: i know why they like you more

[09:50] You: oh?

Stifling an eye roll of your own you throw a glance his way as the next message comes through,

[09:50] wonwoo: nice ass

“Alright, Y/N and Wonwoo will be passing out the study guide for the next exam. We still have a few weeks so don’t worry about the back half but try and review the modules we’ve done so far and bring questions for them during study hours,” Dr. Wagner prattles off.

The gigantic stack of printouts is split in half for you and Wonwoo to disperse around the massive lecture hall. Over one hundred students sit in this lecture; the unfortunate ones who were forced to take a 9 AM course three days a week. Half look like their brain is melting out of their ears, other’s clearly haven’t paid attention at all, and a few are sound asleep. It’s Friday after all. They probably didn’t get back from their Thirsty Thursday night out until a few hours ago.

You wouldn’t even be here if Wonwoo wasn’t a built in insurance policy.

Dr. Wagner collects her things and heads towards the front exit with a cheery, “Have a good weekend!”

“There's a party at Sigma tonight,” Wonwoo shares as you both pack your own bags. The next class is already shuffling through the doors to claim their seats.

“I have work until eleven.”

“After?”

Shouldering your bag, you head towards the door where the next class is already trickling in to find their seats. “Don’t you have a tournament tomorrow?”

“I only have to be at the party for like an hour. I can come and walk you home.”

“Fine,” you nod. “But bring your laptop. I think Chan fucked up the last set of results and we need to fix them.”

It’s not unusual for Wonwoo to spend his Friday nights with you; or another night for that matter. He lives in a dingy frat house on the edge of campus with twenty other guys. It’s an act of mercy. A long standing tradition from the week before freshman year when you two were the only chemistry majors in your orientation group and that turned into a clumsy hook up at an upperclassman’s party. You didn’t know he’d be a virgin and he didn’t know your high school boyfriend dumped you less than twenty four hours before you left for college (but not before you lost your own virginity in the backseat of his car). 

It’d been…not good. 

Wonwoo was awkward and you were unsure. But he was sweet under the bravado; walked you home that night, pretended he wasn’t interested in the fact your roommate never moved in, leaving the suite empty. But he wasn’t a good enough actor to feign nonchalance when you invited him upstairs. Turns out sex was a lot better the second time around, in a bed that didn’t belong to an unknown upperclassman who could’ve burst in any minute. 

Wonwoo isn’t your boyfriend. You’re too busy piecing together the ten year plan concocted since junior year of highschool to even think about such frilly ideas. There’s barely enough time as it is; you’ve got work, a full class schedule, TAing, and all the random clubs you’ve wiggled your way into to pad your resume. 

And he’s busy too. Navigating a sports scholarship and one of the hardest majors left barely enough time for him to wipe his own ass, let alone date. Then came research hours and TAing and the fact volleyball, apparently, wasn’t just a one semester sport, there were scrimmages, workouts, and tournaments out of season. 

It’s been over three years of your arrangement which works best because you don’t have to spend precious brain power deciphering if some random guy you went out with once is playing hard to get or just straight up not interested. You have Wonwoo. He’s simple. 

So what you have now, friends. Who hook up. And work together. Who also happens to be applying for the same PhD program for next year. Not together but at the same time.

The application website stares back from your laptop with horror. 

It’s still too early to submit any materials but it’s been highlighted in bold red in your calendar since two years ago. Everything is ready to go the second it opens—except Dr. Wagner’s recommendation. It’s the sole reason you (and Wonwoo) agreed to be her TAs this semester; she’s one of the program’s most notorious alum, her words as good as gold in securing a spot. 

Someone hacks a cough and shatters the eerie silence of the library. The backtrack of sparse typing and the custodian shuffling around to have been the only company throughout your shift. No one would choose to rot at any of the weathered study tables late on a Friday night so early in the semester. 

With the abundance of free time, you fixed Chan’s mistakes in his set of trials easily, no thanks to Wonwoo who still hasn’t shown up. It’s good though. Your stoichiometry homework is submitted three days before the deadline and the mountain of emails clogging your inbox from hopeless undergrads is in the single digits. Half the labs from last week are graded for Dr. Wagner’s approval, the other half can wait until Sunday night. A long weekend of sleep awaits once the clock hits eleven and you’re free to run home.

Wonwoo stumbless in five minutes before the clock runs out. His duffle for tomorrow is slung over his shoulder and he’s already dressed for bed, rumpled sweats and a hat he definitely wore to the party with high hopes to cut out early. 

“You’re late,” you acknowledge, cramming your belongings back into your bag. He’s close enough to get a whiff of. “And you’re drunk.”

“I am not drunk,” he argues.

The lazy smile tugging at the corner of his lips says otherwise but it isn’t an argument worth having. All you want to do is get home and pass out.

He shoulders you bag, presenting his hand when you insist you can carry it on your own. The dry warm of his palm against your cold is pleasant enough you don’t argue as you tug him towards the automatic doors.

“Have a goodnight, Mr. Lee,” you call towards the security desk.

The guard, old enough to be your grandfather, calls back, “You too, sweetheart.”

Out in the balmy night, you tug Wonwoo down the street in the direction of your apartment. Two blocks and then a right turn leaving you outside the dowdy building with hallways that constantly reek of weed and new paint smell.

A pack of freshmen girls heading somewhere, marked by their matching uniform of jeans and black tops of various coverage, crowd the sidewalk straight ahead. Someone is crying, one is on the phone, and a few others stand dumbly waiting for their next movie like zombies — all incredibly wasted. You barrel through them without acknowledgement. A few drunken bitter ‘bitch’s hit your back but you ignore them to focus on the man struggling to push through the crowd without accidentally shoulder checking any of them.

On the other side, you ask, “Have fun at the party?”

“Some pledge puked on Jihoon’s stuff,” he huffs, nose scrunching.

“May he rest in peace.”

Wonwoo sways from side to side from the weight of your bag but also whatever radioactive mix was served at the party. The stairs provide an extra challenge since the elevator has been broken for weeks but thankfully it’s a short trip to the second floor.

He presents your belongings with routine ease once the front door of your apartment looms ahead. Music from the floor above shakes the walls; hopefully you can make up for the lack of sleep tomorrow morning.

There isn’t much space inside the four walls you call home – the ‘kitchen’ which is a single counter with a stove and fridge you’re barely around to use, fifteen feet away your bed in the corner, bordered by your desk at the foot cramped with a spray of errant papers and books you’ve been too busy to deal with. The monitor doubles as a TV and finally a tiny loveseat with a broken leg replaced by a stack of hard covers completes the room.

You beeline for the bathroom to wash away the filth of a long day and Wonwoo, keeping on trend, follows into the cramped space.

“Can I help you?” you ask, shirt tossed into the bin in the corner.

Wonwoo’s shirt goes the same and then his pants after a brief struggle. “You know I sleep better when I shower.” 

True.

“And I doubt you're gonna let me in your bed if I’m dirty.”

Even truer.

The water is still cold when you step in but the man glued to your back fights the worst of the chill away. Goosebumps prickle along your skin but have nothing to do with the vent that points directly into the stall (whoever designed the apartments must have had a sick sense of humor) and everything to do with Wonwoo’s mouth tracing the curve of your shoulder.

Forcing the heat blooming between your legs down to a simmer, you focus on washing up and getting into bed before it rolls into a boil and you do something stupid that’ll only leave you and Wonwoo struggling for balance. 

Shower sex is a dangerous sport. Shower sex with Wonwoo has left you both with bruises. Drunken shower sex with Wonwoo will get you both killed.

Soft hums tickle your neck as you clean up. There isn’t enough room for two people to stand in the spray at once so you take turns hogging the steamy water and braving the frigid cold until the last bits of soap swirl the drain.

Even when drying off you stay in each other’s orbit until the need for clothes and sleep drive you both out of the bathroom and back into the equally cramped space of your room.

It’s not until you’re laying on the mattress, darkness snug on all sides, that you feel Wonwoo roll atop you with purpose.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo hums into your stomach, fingers crawling up your bare legs.

“That,” you inhale at the nip of his teeth on the curve of your thigh, “doesn’t feel like nothing to me.”

Wonwoo doesn’t answer but gives you plenty of time to brush him off while bruising your skin. You don’t. Instead you sink deeper into the blankets and let him push your shirt up until you're bare once more.

The fuzziness of alcohol lingers in his veins – just enough that he smiles into the strip of skin above your panties as you sigh and arch under the delicious weight of wandering hands and mouth at your nipple.

“Wonwoo,” you sigh and he’s up and kissing you with eager clumsiness.

A familiar prod at your core through his boxers crashes bubbles through your veins. You felt it in the bathroom but now is when you finally get to indulge with subtle grinds Wonwoo meets in his own search for friction. 

“Don’t you need to be up—ugh—early tomorrow?”

He kisses you slowly, tongue dragging along your bottom lip until your mouth opens under his. It burns you from the inside out. Mindlessly you shift your legs to frame his hips better but Wonwoo kisses deeper and all you can think about is giving in to whatever scheme he’s working up to have you both naked and panting.

He leans back a fraction to speak, giving in when you chase his lips before ducking to nip at your ear and mumbling a response. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I will worry about it when you snooze twenty alarms and your team hunts me down because I smothered their star player with a pillow,” you snort but heat under a squeeze of his fingers at your sides.

“Sleep when I’m done with this.”

“And what is ‘this’ exactly?”

A harsh suck at your jaw has your stomach tight. heavy and thick until need drips down your spine to coil in your gut and the emptiness between your thighs becomes unignorable. He hides pleased groans in the curve of your neck until you force a hand under the band of his underwear. Eyes opening, you watch the muscles of his back tense and flex as he rocks against you, fucking your fist greedily.

It doesn’t last long. Wonwoo gets antsy under the taunting pressure of your thumb and descends back down your body with burning lips. “Take your shirt off.”

“It’s cold,” you complain but do as he asks. 

He traces your figure clad in nothing but your glasses and a soiled pair of panties; damp at the crotch from his attention and Wonwoo slips a finger under the hem to tease you that inch closure to depravity.

Wonwoo laves against the hickey on the inside of your thigh from a week ago, it’s yellowed and perfectly shaped like his mouth. It’s tender under his attention, even the gentle tracing on his nose forcing you to wince in discomfort. 

He coos, kissing it before skating back to the hem of your panties, lips vibrating against your skin. “Sorry I didn’t come earlier.”

Why he brings it up now is a mystery. Or the fact he brings it up at all. Life happens. You’ve blown him off more than once for a late night in the library; no hard feelings.

“It’s fine,” you sigh as he tugs the last scrap of fabric off your body and pushes your knees up to display you like a meal.

Spreading you apart, he lands a wet kiss at your entrance before teasing with the heat of his tongue. 

In a beg for sanity you twist a tight grip in his hair; a tangled mess from his drunk endeavors. Wonwoo pushes harder, drowns in your taste with enthusiasm as you moan and sigh. 

“F-fuck.”

He won’t ask if it’s good. He knows it is. Nearly four years of hook ups attunes him to your pleasure, a well rehearsed routine that has you both ache in the best way. 

You lose yourself in shaking breaths, feet planted to drive up into his mouth for more. He sucks your clit and nearly gets his head crushed by your thighs. It doesn’t take much and he knows it. 

You chant ‘gonna cum’ in choked groans that almost die at the edge of your teeth but Wonwoo hears and takes it as permission to pull out the stops, hand at your thing with a harsh grip and fingers sinking home.

He’s memorized all the signs of your want; the wrecked echo of your throat and the sounds he pulls from you a clear tell. He flattens his tongue, holding steady as grind straight into mindless bliss. Spit pools and drips and slips down onto the sheets. Wonwoo hums praise, unintelligible but you vaguely know it’s something that’d make you blush you could hear it over the pounding in your ears.

Back arching, your vision flares white at the edges and when Wonwoo realizes what's happening he makes it last until your fist ball up and you’re floating.

Wonwoo backs down as you twitch through the tail end, sloppy kisses to your clit that could knock into another fit if he isn’t careful. But even as you tremble the only thing you want is the weight of his cock in your mouth, or inside you. You aren’t picky as long as you get to feel him cum too.

You finally manage to pry Wonwoo from between your legs with an ankle to his ribs. You’re not done with him despite the fatigue hanging around your shoulders like dead weight. He angles over top of you for a kiss that tastes too much like pussy for your liking but it’s hot knowing he’s covered in you so you push until his shoulders meet the sheets and you can claim his lap.

His dick strains through his underwear, preening when you rock back into the heat. His nostrils flare when you grab for it, stiff enough to sink onto easily. 

“Oh god,” he groans, head digging back into the pillows to watch you like a goddess.

His fingers web across the tops of your thighs, a harsh grip keeping you flat as he grinds up into the wet heat of your pussy. You whimper and sigh for him; all the sounds he loves to hear. You squeeze your chest, taut nipples framed between the slants of your fingers to entice him until he reaches around and knocks you forward for the sole purpose of taking one in his mouth.

Your eyes roll back, jaw locked open, drowning in the stretch and the bite of his mouth and the hands squeezing your ass so hard it hurts. Wonwoo groans, throaty and desperate. “Gonna cum. Wanna cum in you. Holy shit.”

He gets you on your back. Too absorbed in his own end, he’s dead weight with his tongue between your lips and harsh thrusts that take him right to the edge. It gives that grit against your clit that means you’ll come too, soaked in cum and spit and sweat.

You wish he’d flip you on your front and fuck you with a hand between you shoulder blades and the other tangled in your hair. That’s the kind of fuck that’d leave you satisfied the entire weekend he’s busy but he’s running out of steam just doing this, picking up speed in his thrust, the clap of bodies filling the room.

Chanting his name like a broken record, ‘Wonwoo, Wonwoo, Wonwoo’ breathy but loud enough your neighbors will leave another passive aggressive note on your door come morning, all you can think about is his cum. On you, in you. A sick part wants him to pull out and cum on your face – he hasn’t, not in a long time because priorities and responsibilities and you're usually lucky to have even five minutes alone before someone needs either of you. But you want it. God do you want it.

“Cum on my face,” you whimper. There’s drool on your lips and sweat in your hairline. Even if he doesn't, you'll need another shower anyway.

A strangled noise escapes from between his teeth at your neck. Then he’s driving forward so hard you burn; painfully so, mouth locked in a silent choke. Your orgasm rips through your insides, jagged at the edges where Wonwoo fucks himself into your guts. 

“Fuck yeah,” he grunts, pulling away and replacing the grip of your pussy with a tight fist as he straddles your chest. 

The taste of cock floods your tongue, heady and intoxicating. You get one, two drags against the stiff head and then he’s cumming, dripping his spend over your lips, then your cheek, then your glasses because he’s a sick freak. Even in the dim light from the window he twitches at the sight. You open your mouth and replace his hold, moaning as more comes to the surface. You swallow down as far as he’ll go which isn’t much in this position but it’s the thought that counts.

Wonwoo grinds to halt with an occasional kick of his hips that leaves you choking – rigid limbs locking in place until he melts with sticky satisfaction. 

He’s up and off, your glasses in hand for a thorough cleaning, not even bothering to flick on any of the lights but you hear the sink running in the bathroom before he comes padding back.

“God,” you whimper in disgust. “That’s so gross.”

“You’re the one who asked for it,” Wonwoo snorts, soft passes of a damp cloth on your skin focused on getting you clean enough to sleep.

“Because it’s hot but you aim for shit.”

Wonwoo tosses the rag somewhere, flopping down and pulling you close as possible with a kiss on your forehead. “Next time I’ll aim for your hair.”

“Bitch.”

The sound of music from upstairs pulses through your head as you drift off, Wonwoo asleep on your chest, fingers laced together on the sheets beside your indecipherably intertwined bodies.

Your week is divided into a simple pattern. Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays you wake bright and early to attend Dr. Wagner’s chem lecture and then stay on campus attending every other class you could find to fill the gap between your evening shift at the library. Tuesdays and Thursdays are void of responsibility until your afternoon lab with the freshman near tears while learning basic titration for four hours, followed by office hours where said freshman finally come to actually cry about their grades. Those are the nights you, Chan, Wonwoo and a handful of other lab techs work on research that carries the same threat of waterworks. 

It’s there Dr. Wagner pulls you and Wonwoo aside.

“I know you both are applying to Dr. Collins lab for your PhD studies,” she starts. 

Her office reflects the same disarray as her personality; warm and lived in. Papers and exams are organized in chaos, thick stacks lining her desk waiting for you and Wonwoo to enter them into the online grade book. Books, some leather, some paperback, some the glossy cover of a textbook with cracked spines and yellowing pages are crammed into the bookshelves lining the walls until they threaten to collapse from the weight. It smells like coffee, plants, and the candle she always has burning. It’s a cozy hovel overlooking the rear courtyard of the science building that resembles the sterility of a hospital. 

Wonwoo occupies the other barrel chair with worn upholstery. You’ve barely seen him in the past three weeks, too busy with volunteering and working and classes while his own responsibilities keep him so exhausted it’s truly a miracle he’s even here. Dark stains ring his eyes beneath his glasses and he looks paler than usual. You’ll ask about it tonight when he comes over to work on your most recent stoichiometry project (which will be forgotten in favor of passing out during a movie while you play with his hair if history is anything to go by).

“I don’t think I’ve ever met two students who belong more in his lab,” she continues.

You try not to preen, but academic validation is a hell of a drug to caffeine addicted undergrads. Wonwoo perks up too. Three and a half years of barely being people for this moment and it’s finally in reach.

“However,” Dr. Wagner clasps her hands atop the dark wooden desk. “I’m writing only one recommendation this semester. It might seem unfair but I want to commit to the student that deserves it the most since my schedule doesn’t allow me much free time.”

It’s like being underwater. You hear her words but nothing registers, blinking rapidly in case this is a hallucination from falling asleep in the lab again.

“I know it might not be the news you hoped for but I know senior year is a lot, especially for students as involved as you all, and I thought this could alleviate some of the stress. You two are the only students I’m considering. So please, keep up the incredible work and we can talk again at the end of the semester when I have a more holistic evaluation of your progress.”

She stands to leave, snagging her purse and blowing out the candle with finality before abandoning the shit storm in your lap for whatever else she has to do on a Thursday night. Probably retell the events of the last five minutes to other professors in the department, laughing at the way you’ve turned purple from holding your breath.

“Have a good night you two! See you tomorrow!”

The office, once warm, feels hollow. You feel hollow. 

“What the fuck?” Wonwoo hasn’t moved either, glued to his seat as he stares at Dr. Wagner’s now vacant chair with his mouth wide in shock.

“Did that just happen?” you scoff in disbelief. “Is she serious?”

Wonwoo collapses over his knees with his hands scrubbing at his face like he also might be hallucinating. “I needed that recommendation.”

“Well, so do I,” you argue.

“I know. This is bullshit.”

“Did Changkyun say anything like this happened last year when she wrote one for him?”

“No, all three people who asked her got one.”

“Oh, so it’s just us she hates. Great!” you throw your hands up, sinking deeper in the chair. Maybe it’ll swallow you whole and the entire ordeal will cease to exist.

“She’s probably just trying to get in our heads so we don’t slack off this semester.”

“Have we ever slacked off any semester? I’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. You’ve been on the President’s Honor List since freshman year. We’re those people.”

Since starting college, since that one night during orientation where you and Wonwoo became a ‘we’. Not in the relationship sense, but in the way two lines merge. Same path, same goals, same classes, same PhD program prospects. There was plenty you two did separately but more you did together. Neither competing, but working together. 

But now that’s over.

Because only one of you can get into Dr. Collins lab, only one of you can get the recommendation, and only one of you can have what you both worked tirelessly for over the past three years.

“Listen—” you stand up and scrub at your own face. “It’ll be fine. We’ll figure it out.”

“We? Only one of us can get her recommendation. What’s there to figure out?”

Your face goes hot. He’s right. “Well, I need that recommendation.”

“So do I,” Wonwoo argues, eyes cold.

“Fine.”

That recommendation is mine.

“Fine!”

We’ll see about that.

Wonwoo stays in her office, flinching as you slam the door and flee.

The issue with fighting with Wonwoo is that as mad as both of you are, there are a million responsibilities you share that require close proximity.

Presently, it’s grading the last batch of exams. Seventy eight packets. And because Dr. Wagner doesn’t believe in convenience, it all has to be graded by the hand of two TAs running on nothing but caffeine and spite.

Which means it’s past midnight and the couch has a permanent impression of Wonwoo’s ass while you both silently fume and scratch through wrong answers with a heavy hand in red ink.

The weather reflects the atmosphere; pouring rain and thunder loud enough to shake the windows. The power has flickered in and out since the rain started but you're both too stubborn to call it quits – if there is nothing to keep you occupied then you might rip his throat out.

Wonwoo doesn’t even ask if you want more coffee before he snags your empty mug and moves to the kitchenette. You don’t look up when he sets it back down, and only grab it and take the first sip of perfectly steaming hot sweetness when he flops back on the couch without another word. 

Then the power goes out again, and doesn’t come back.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Using the flashlight on your phone, you search the drawers of your desk for candles. There nowhere to be found amongst the stacks of unopened sticky notes and tangled cords. 

Wonwoo shuffles behind you, papers landing on the coffee table completely abandoned. “We’ve been at this for hours. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“I have them in here somewhere,” you bite, another handful of chargers and a stapled you’ve never used and other things you didn’t even realize you own fill the drawer. You move to the second. “There’s only a few tests left.”

“We can do them tomorrow. It can wait.”

“No,” you spit like a curse.

Whatever Wonwoo was planning to say dies on his lips. “Fine.” 

His shirt lands over your head, you rip it off only to find him half naked in the dark, huddling under one of the throw blankets you keep on the back of the couch. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping.”

“On the couch?” 

“Yep.”

“You’re too tall.”

“Well,” he draws like a pouty kid. “I don’t feel like sharing the bed with you.”

In a way it’s safer to argue about something trivial like this versus the entire reason you’ve iced each other out since that day in her office. Because at least like this, you won’t lose him. It’s stupid and petty but at least you’re speaking to each other; breaking through that wall of silence that’s been steadily growing more and more unnavigable as the inevitable draws nearer.

“Fine, then I’ll sleep on the couch and you take the bed.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. N. O.”

Fine.

It’s difficult to navigate in the dark. Your knees end up a victim to the edge of the coffee table and you trip over the edge of the rug, but you find the couch. Reaching down, you find his chest, then his shoulder. And once you’re sufficiently oriented you sit on him.

“Ow,” Wonwoo grunts as you flop down, elbow in his gut and his chin hitting your forehead. “What are you doing?”

You wedge in closer, slipping between his body and the cushions, bracing to kick him off by force if needed. “Sleeping.”

“Here?” he asks. Too aware of your plan, he turns as well, grabbing the back of the couch overhead to stay put.

“You’re too tall to sleep here.”

“And we’re both too big to sleep here together. Take the bed.”

“No,” you huff.

“No?”

“No. N.O. I believe you’re familiar with the word,” you spit.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“If you keep talking then neither of us will sleep.”

“Neither of us are gonna sleep anyway. You move too much to be comfortable like this.”

He’s right of course. Your hips already ache but if you move then he’ll find some way to pull you off. “I’m fine.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

You do the mature thing and bite him. 

The muscles corded around his pec twitch under your mouth as he flinches. “What the hell was that for?” 

You do it again.

“Stop.”

“Or what?” you ask, muffled in his skin as you move to leave another bite.

Wonwoo also does the mature thing and pins your wrists in one hand, maneuvering until you're sandwiched between the couch with his chest flat to your back.

“I can’t breathe like this,” you muffle into the cushions.

“Oh, how tragic.” You feel his words tickle the back of your neck rather than hear them. 

Wonwoo releases your wrists pinned to your stomach. His hand finds its way under your shirt, his shirt from some stupid frat fundraiser you’d been coerced into attending, flat to your belly with soothing circles. His calf hooks over your own to tangle your bodies together. He kisses the back of your neck, a simple brush of his lips that lingers.

It’s easier to feel everything in the dark. Your annoyance and frustration forged over the past weeks melts away and all that’s left is the need to have Wonwoo close. Just like this. Where there are no deadlines, or responsibilities. Where you both can drown in each others’ presence and everything else is washed away in the heavy drops pounding the windows outside.

Here, everything is uncomplicated.

The next rumble of thunder is loud enough to send you both in the air. Unfortunately, Wonwoo drags you backwards off the couch and to the floor. You land relatively unscathed but he knocks his elbow into the coffee table.

“Are you okay?”

Wonwoo groans and curses, cradling his elbow.

“Aw, tell the doctor where it hurts,” you coo, prodding his side.

He snatches your hand and pins it to his chest but not before lacing his fingers through your own. The gentle rise of and fall of breathing and the thud of his heart reverberates down your arm and straight into your own chest where something frozen softens. “Has anyone told you you’re annoying when you’re tired?”

“Yes. You. Lots of times.”

“Good. Wanna make sure you’re aware.”

Lighting turns everything white, a quick flash highlighting the room. There and gone and leaving you more disoriented than before. Rolling over, you hook a thigh over his lap which he welcomes, tugging you closer and absorbing the proximity like second nature. You’re a glutton for warmth –  Wonwoo’s warmth specifically – even in his sweater and his sweat shorts and his shirt, you still want more of him.

“We can’t sleep like this.”

You don’t want to move – laying like this, in the dark, nose dug into his chest as you twisting your fingers in his, squeezing and glowing pathetically when he squeezes back – all you want is to drown in him a little longer. Until you're forced to come up for breath.

But the sore spot between you two is still raw like a fresh bruise.

“Then sleep in the bed,” his lips drags over your knuckles as he speaks.

“No. You sleep in the bed, you’re too tall to sleep on the couch.”

“Fine.” Wonwoo jumps up from his place on the floor, grabbing your hands once again before dragging you around the coffee table towards the opposite side of the room. It’s ridiculously childish, especially in the dark where he bounces off the desk and the rug roughens the back of your legs.

He shimmies you around a corner and a cloud of laughter puffs between your lips. “What are you doing?”

“I’m sleeping in the bed, and you’re sleeping in the bed with me.”

“What if I don’t want to sleep next to you?”

“Then I’ll cry. Like that time we watched Steel Magnolias.”

“Have mercy,” you whimper.

“Then get your ass in bed.”

Deflating like a balloon, you stand. Wonwoo keeps his hands on you the entire time, guiding you down to the mattress and covering your body with his own just in case of an escape. He bunkers down in the safety of your neck, dragging your hands to his hair, mimicking the motions he craves until you take up the action and gently comb through the tangles.

A part of you wants to cry. Preemptively mourn the end of this – whatever this is. Late nights with Wonwoo, whispering in the dark about clueless underclassmen and annoying professors. Taking turns scrolling through adoptable cats at the local rescue. Cooing over them, rolling your eyes when Wonwoo finds Pixel still listed as available for adoption, a sign to him that he’s meant to have her except he lives in a frat house. Or the nights neither of you can sleep and take a trip to the local diner and tuck yourselves away in a corner booth to watch drunk people cling to consciousness over waffles and hash browns. 

There will be no more of that. Not by the time winter break comes. One of you is getting the gold ticket and the other will be up in the air with the hundreds of other people competing for the same handful of slots. And if one of you doesn't get in? 

“Was that so hard?” he whispers into your collar.

When you don’t answer, he looks up at. In the cast of lighting coming through the window he’s the same Wonwoo. The one you’ve been best friends with for years now. The one who is practically glued to your side whenever possible. 

The one who you’ll have to say goodbye to.

He meets your kiss lazily. Like he still thinks you have all the time in the world.

It makes the urge to cry that much worse.

The rain is gone by morning. 

The room glows from the orange light of the first minutes of sunrise. Sometime in the night you rolled to your side and Wonwoo pressed tight to your back. He’s awake, drawing shapes on your hip beneath the fabric of your shirt.

“Morning.” 

You hum and roll over to burrow in his chest, the crown of your head digging into his neck and away from the sun. “Morning.”

The warmth of his hands trace the curve of your back, pulling you closer; hiding his own discontent with such an early break in the tentative truce that only seems to exist in the late hours of night and earliest minutes of dawn. Days of sleep deprivation with nothing but sterile lighting in the lab leaves you both needy and vulnerable. So he hugs you tighter and sighs when you do the same.

He’s hard against your thigh. Clearly a result of biology more than need because he’s snoring against your hairline. Flashes of dreams rush forward – him beneath you, on top of you, behind you. It’s been weeks since you two last fucked. When you called him an idiot and he called you stubborn and next thing you were on the table with your legs spread for Wonwoo’s hand in a clumsy bump and grind while arguing about which one of you fucked up the biosensor callibration through gritted teeth and needy whimpers.

You’re wet. With his thigh pressed between your own the fact becomes more evident as the urge to curl into it nags.

Taking advantage of the exposed curve of skin beneath your mouth, you kiss and suck with lax intent until Wonwoo tips his chin up and gives a silent green light.

A heavy hand drags down his front, nails scratching bluntly through the fabric until it can slip beneath the waistband of his sweats and the curve of his cock sits pretty in your palm. Commando for convenience and comfort. More the latter because there’s no shot in hell he’s been getting laid lately.

His breath is sticky in his throat, vibrating beneath your teeth from thin pants as you work him through a loose fist. “Can I?”

“Yeah,” he huffs. “Yes.”

Slouching down, your head rests on his stomach, sweatpants bunched around his thighs. The first lick sends his hips up in search of more and you eagerly supply the soft suction of your mouth; lips catching around the flared head. A hand on the back of your skull keeps your hair from interfering as he plumps against your tongue. 

Eagerness fails to penetrate this moment slowed down by the greater need to drag this out. To savor every second because who knows when you’ll both stop being petty enough to just enjoy one another’s presence again.

“Might cum—fuck— don’t stop,” he grunts.

With the sun filling the room even more you’re running out of time, the warmth growing to leave sweat at the small of your back. He pushes harder into the curve of your throat and you let him, gagging wet with a lewd mix of spit and pre-cum that has you both moaning at the choked sound. Jaw slack, Wonwoo fucks your mouth with slow ruts; stomach tightening and the hand in your hair fisting tight enough you moan.

“Shit, babe—c-cumming,” he whines with a pathetic groan you’d make fun of him for later but all you can think about is the thick taste of cum and if there’s enough time for some attention between your own legs before life becomes unignorable. Not enough time for a real fuck but Wonwoo has a few tricks up his sleeve that promise satisfaction.

You bounce back down next to him and Wonwoo pounces, rolling on top of you, thing between your spread legs. He doesn’t shy away from your tongue against his teeth, dips a thumb beneath your chin and slips his tongue right along with it, sucks your lips until the swell, backing off only to bunch your shirt up. Lazy drags of his mouth on yours – not the ‘I need you’ kisses after a late night but the ‘I miss you’ ones after weeks of passive aggressive silence.

He licks down your front, goosebumps blooming from the draft as he sucks a nipple until you arch and twist a hand in his hair. You give a lax stretch and sigh while his hand slips beneath the edge of your panties.

Taking the morning for what it is, you fall into the motions until the blare of the alarm clock signals the beginning of the end.

You push away and swipe blindly at the night stand to make it stop but Wonwoo has other plans. 

He pins your hips down, tongue flat to the crotch of your underwear with a pant. “Ignore it.”

“What?” You look at him and find tired eyes watching back from over the edge of your wrinkled shirt. His hair is a mess, stuck to the side of his head from sleep and your eager hands and all you want to do is comb the tangles out while he pulls your strings like a puppet master.

But you can’t.

“We’ve got class,” you gasp through a hot kiss on your clit.

A groggy groan of, “skip,” vibrates on your skin.

Fingers curling in the sheets, you grasp for disagreement only to find a moan as he pulls your hips closer and works a finger where you need it most.

“We can’t.”

“We can,” Wonwoo grunts, focusing on peppering greedy kisses to the sensitive insides of your thighs. “We’ve been early every time this semester.”

The hand not curling in your guts runs down the back of your calf, bending until it hooks over his shoulder.

“Fuck, Wonu,” you whine over the crude sounds of his mouth. You want to. God, do you want to. But you open your eyes again and they land on the stack of exams on your desk. Ungraded. Because Wonwoo said you could do them this morning. And now he wants you to skip class despite how important it is. 

You close your legs only for Wonwoo to take it as a challenge, pinning your hips in place and celebrating his perceived victory with a throaty moan as he rocks against the bed.

“Stop.”

He pulls back, mouth wet and brows furrowed. “Huh?”

The alarm on your phone pings again. Swiftly silenced this time as you roll out from beneath him and land beside the mattress on unsteady feet. “We can’t skip. We have to give exams back.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” he argues, flopping down into the warmth you left vacant.

The room is too bright, a clear sign your morning routine is behind. “You think now is the time to start slacking off?”

“It’s not slacking off.” Wonwoo snags his glasses. He looks more annoyed with them. “It’s a break. You clearly need one.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just forget it. I’m not arguing with you about stupid shit.”

“And what's stupid shit? The job we signed up for? With the professor who controls our futures?”

Wonwoo fixes his pants and rolls out of bed. On the opposite side. As far away from you as possible. “Whatever.”

“Fine.”

“Fine!”

“Good!”

“Good!”

You slam the bathroom door shut with finality. When you come back out, any trace of Wonwoo is long gone.

There aren’t many people in class. A benefit of Halloweekend is the partying starts Wednesday and doesn’t stop until the following week. Even with last night's rain plenty of students are battling hangovers which leaves a third of the usual lecture attendance to witness you and Wonwoo go head to head while Dr. Wagner sits at home with a mysterious illness she announced in an email three minutes after nine AM.

The few that are there snag their papers, lips curled in disgust at the plethora of red ink spilled on white pages. Their own faults for not paying attention during lecture but maybe the scarlet gashes were a little dramatic. Wonwoo’s jaw is tight, pointedly ignoring you except to hand exams over that someone is waiting for with dread in their eyes. 

You could’ve skipped. It wouldn’t even count as skipping because class is canceled and there’s no award for hauling ass at the crack of dawn when your advisor isn’t even here to see it. You could be tucked away in your apartment with him under your skin; firmly in the place between dreams and waking where you liked him best, nothing but warm skin and rough hands with his lips on your hairline and your head burrowed in his chest. 

There are too many witnesses to just drop the act and wrap your arms around him from behind until he gives in. Apologize for the stupid shit he rightfully called you out on. But as your courage grows with each student’s exit, Wonwoo makes to leave before you can make use of it. 

Barely an hour of fighting and it already feels like an eternity.

“Hey,” you call.

He freezes by one of the desks near the back of the room, like he’s shocked you’re even there in the first place. But he doesn’t turn around; just tilts his head so you know he’s listening even if he doesn’t want to.

“Sorry about this morning. I-I think the stress is getting to me.”

And the fact that I can’t be mad at anyone besides the universe for this incredibly shitty situation. And I miss you. Even when you’re right next to me.

“Okay.”

“That’s it?” you fidget with the strap of your bag; a million pounds heavier even without the weight of ungraded tests that Wonwoo snatched before you could divide the remaining work.

He turns around, eying you with an exasperated look. “What else should I say? You called me a slack off and implied I don’t do my job.”

“I didn’t,” you argue but it’s salt in the wound because—

“You did.”

“But—”

“It’s fine. I’ll finish grading the exams over the weekend.”

And then you're alone.

You’re alone in the study room you both usually occupy to work on the Nanochemistry project due at the end of term. The shared document has updates, the blink of his cursor mocking your from wherever he hunkered down. Away from you. The temptation to type ‘I’m sorry’ over and over again disappears once he logs out barely a minute after you logged on.

You’re alone at the circulation desk of the library through your shift, head whipping around to every squeak and cough only to find someone who isn’t Wonwoo. There’s an email from him, to Dr. Wagner with you CC’ed, about class averages and exam questions that should be thrown out.

You walk home alone. Other students in various states of dress and intoxication crowd the sidewalks, a few you recognize but they feel a million miles away.

Alone in your apartment, the two mugs from last night clean in the sink.

The good part of being alone is when you start crying, no one is there to see.

It’s near midnight and the chill of the breeze whipping down the street bites at your exposed skin. Already the should-be-condemned frat house pulses with life, the promise of a long night ahead thrumming through the symphony of drunk screams and music.

It’s not unusual for you to attend frat parties. Wonwoo’s favor guarantees free booze and a perch at the top of the staircase where underclassmen are barred from entering. But you’ll settle for watching drunk underclassman stumbling over the front lawn from one of the couches on the front porch (which are so broken in, no one sinks into the cushions – they just fall straight down until the worn springs catch them) because the inside of the house is too hot, and too crowded, and far too loud. 

A hail Mary apology is the only thing on your mind. Yesterday had been the nastiest spat in recent history between you two; notwithstanding sophomore year when Jeonghan asked you for tutoring and Wonwoo insisted on helping. “Helping” meant cutting off every question Jeonghan dared ask with a series of snorts and huffs until you left and refused to talk to him for a week.

He’d apologized in the most Wonwoo fashion – completing your Thermodynamics assignments for the rest of the semester and before going down on you until you threatened to kick him in the head through sensitive sobs.

Wonwoo is here – somewhere. Shuffling up the past, past the line of eager party goers looking for a way in, you scan the front porch, he’s not in his usual waiting spot to whisk you upstairs where the older members hang out with better drinks and better music. Not that he would be. He doesn’t even know you considered coming to this.

Instead, poor Chan, dressed in yellow and black stripes, mans the door with pilot Jihoon by his side.

“Jihoon,” you greet, before looking at the younger man. “Speed bump.”

Chan mumbles something under his breath but lays on the ground regardless. When Wonwoo went through the same hazing you only got a few chances to enjoy the ridiculousness before he dragged you upstairs and shut you up himself.

“Can you not torment the kids?” Jihoon grunts.

“I could. But, where’s the fun in that?” 

“Your boyfriend is inside. If you see Jun, tell him it’s his turn to watch the door.”

“Got it.”

Stepping over the underclassman still laying on the ground, you head inside and straight for the packed kitchen to get a drink. There’s barely any space between the hoard of bodies, forcing you to shuffle forward everytime there's a gap in the crowd; but it’s more like swimming against a rip tide. 

It’s difficult to see with nothing but a few strobe lights and some strings of Christmas lights to clear the dark. One glance up towards the upper landing of the staircase is all it takes to find him right next to Mingyu. Matching costume, two bean poles standing out from the crowd of shorter men. Mingyu makes a brief nod in your direction but before you can see Wonwoo turn you’re off into the kitchen.

It’s an even tighter fit in here. A pledge pours drinks from a cooler, for a brief second you’re tempted to indulge. The last time you did, freshman year, you ended up crying in Wonwoo’s room mid-hookup. You scan the slim pickings and settle on an unopened beer. The shots you took while getting ready are already catching up.

Forced between anxious isolation and drinking, a few of your friends come up and briefly make conversation. You feign interest, eying over their heads for a familiar mop of dark hair without success.

A few guys stop to compliment your costume. They give themselves away in glazed heavily lidded stares, single minded focus on your legs. They ask what your major is, boast their status as pledges to your disinterested grimace, and move on when you finally put them out of their misery and fib about your “boyfriend” being “president or something” but “I don’t pay attention to those things,” and they all disappear significantly paler than when they first appeared.

You bite the bullet of your pride and turn to leave, only to find Wonwoo barely an inch away.

His eyes burn over your figure, the short toga covering just enough for you to avoid public indecency. Good. It’s the entire reason you wore this stupid costume in the first place. He’s a horny loser for nerdy shit and this is the best thing you could’ve worn other than one of those video game character costumes forcing your boobs in your throat and leaving you at serious risk for public indecency.

It’s not the first time you’ve wrapped yourself in barely enough fabric to constitute an outfit for the sake of his forgiveness and it probably won’t be the last.

Wonwoo pins you to the counter with his hips, hands bracketing your figure on either side. The green hat with an ‘L’ is lopsided on his head but at least he didn’t wear the fake mustache. “So, what is your costume?” he hums into the space just below your ear with a kiss.

“Guess.” You tilt your chin, cocky.

“And if I get it right?” he asks, lips at your ear.

Heart pound, you ditch the beer and reach for his hips with purpose. “Whatever you want.”

“Dangerous words.”

“Think of it as my apology for being a huge bitch yesterday.” 

He sighs into your neck, arms tight around your waist in a loose semblance of a hug. It’s a farce. Your ass meets the counter with minor effort and Wonwoo claims the space between your legs before you can pretend to object.

He still hasn’t kissed you.

You want more than kisses. You want to feel him, all of him. Want to drag him to the living room serving as a makeshift dance floor and sink into the heat of his body pressed flat against your own for everyone to see. You want to pull him into that closet off the main hall, familiar from that hot night of freshman year when a drunk make out turned into a timid fingering and eventually Wonwoo handing over his first time on a silver platter. Or even run back to your apartment, pluck through the leftover Halloween candy you bought on discount and watch whatever horror movie has become his recent obsession. You just want him.

“Mingyu thought you were Socrates.”

Pressed this close on the sticky counter, his body is the only thing protecting what little of your dignity is left. Even then, there's enough of the slippery warmth of alcohol to tempt you into rutting against him right here for those stupid pledges to see. “Mingyu is an idiot.”

“Clearly,” he chuckles. “The rubber chicken gave it away.”

You shake it at eye level. “Behold, man.”

“Lame,” his kissing gets bold down the shaft of your neck, teeth scraping your collarbone.

“Oh please, I feel your boner.”

He doesn’t resist you when you nuzzle along the bare parts of his neck, a tease of soft kissing usually reserved for quiet moments tucked away in your apartment. Even in the chaos of the party, body heat turning the air uncomfortably warm, you crave more of his closeness. 

His hands feel nice on your legs. None of the timid gentleness of years prior when he’d touch you like it’d burn if he wanted it too much; trailing higher and higher but never under the short hem of the bedsheet turned dress. His fingers flex into the muscle at the outside of your thigh, hook behind your knees and drag you to the edge of the counter. 

You're sweating through your own skin when he kisses you. 

The need in your gut blooms at full force. Your mouth loosens, welcoming his tongue and teeth and whatever else he’s generous enough to give while you tug at the loose fabric around his hips to force more close proximity; the zipper of his pants is hot against your core and if you fucked him right here it wouldn’t look that different than the PG-13 make out happening right now. 

“Wanna show me your room?” You blink like some moony eyed freshman, glassy, pupils blown from vivid images of all the possibilities in the solitude upstairs. Wonwoo is fine with the game of whatever your apology entails even if it means you throw cheesy lines like that.

He ushers you off the counter, flat to your back as he pushes through the crowd with you ahead. Even in a drunken haze people part out of his way because of the mastery of resting bitch face only he seems to have despite the complaint putty that lies behind it. A private smile splits your lips. He can’t be that mad. Not with how he pulls you closer, in the protective way he so often does in the buzz of a single minded crowd with more alcohol in their veins than blood. 

Mingyu is standing on the landing. Girls in scraps of fabric eye him up and down, even in his stupid costume with the mustache but he ignores them in favor of pouting straight into a red cup.

“Why is your boyfriend moping?” 

“Fuck if I know.” Wonwoo focuses on sucking another bruise on your neck like no one's watching. 

You’re loose enough not to care about Mingyu’s annoyance as Wonwoo ushers you by. “Cheer up buttercup, I’m sure there’s a Peach here into charity fucks!” 

It’s meant to be encouraging, but Mingyu looks like he’s torn between strangling you and throwing himself over the banister.

Maybe you did lie about being Wonwoo’s girlfriend, but he is president and his room is the biggest and furthest away from chaos. Up on the top floor where the music isn’t as loud and the only people on this floor are other members and their guests for the night.

Wonwoo pushes you inside, kicking the door shut loud enough you wince before crowding you against the wood. You throw his hat away somewhere into the darkness, hand twisted in his hair as he kisses you. Sloppy and gross until he rocks into the softness of your stomach, gasoline on the flame.

“Turn around.”

He barely gives you enough space to do so, pressing you flat once again, cheek squished to the door and a rough pull at your waist. 

“If you’re thinking about touching my asshole, don’t. I have shit to do tomorrow,” you warn. 

On the other side of the door you hear footsteps but they pass by without stopping.

“Noted, but not what I’m going for,” he jokes. 

Your skirt flips up and a draft against the damp crotch of your panties sends a tremor straight through your core. “Share with the class.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I’m shaking in my toga.”

“And you call me a loser.”

“I can call you some other things,” you grit, pushing back into the heat of his covered cock. “They aren’t as nice though.”

“Yeah, yeah. Take your panties off.” 

He’s a little bit of a freak. Sometimes he enjoys fucking you in nothing but your underwear and others he wants you in everything but. Maybe because of how this entire thing started; when you wouldn’t even take your bra off and he survived on the barest flash of nipple.

The flimsy soiled fabric barely passes your knees before he’s on you again, easily tempted by the arch of your spine. You hum content as he presses a finger into your cunt, then two. His other hand forces the neckline of your dress down and lo-and-behold your lack of bra delights like you knew it would.

Whatever bright idea that fluttered in Wonwoo’s brain is forgotten as he spins you back around for an eyeful of naked skin; a mouthful of your chest and your leg hooked around his hip for a pathetic dry hump into the heel of his hand.

“Oh, fuck,” you moan with extra emphasis and a caved stomach because there’s teeth and he makes it hurt. “Kiss me.”

Another rut into your thigh and his teeth are back at your bottom lip. It’s not exactly what you anticipated when you showed up tonight but there are far worse places than having a doorknob in your back while Wonwoo leaves a hickey below your ear; a perfectly good bed ten feet away but neither of you can be bothered to move much more than forcing Wonwoo’s pants down enough his cock leaks in your grip, head nestled at your entrance.

You surprise him by sinking to your knees. Head tipped back against the door, you tilt your mouth open to welcome him on your tongue. Wonwoo stares down at you; tits out, hand between your legs as you suck his cock in quick motions until he takes over and fucks into the curve of your throat. 

“Holy s-shit,” he hisses and you flatten your tongue to help him along. It feels good; seeing him reduced to so little just from the wet suck of your mouth on him. 

A choked gag forces Wonwoo back into his body, hips curving away so you can swallow air before leaving a sloppy kiss on the tip. Seizing him in a tight grip, you use the spit to jerk him off until he cringes with another pathetic moan. 

Someone giggles in the hallway, close enough you both hear. They’re far enough away you can still whisper to Wonwoo. “Remember that time we fucked in here last year?” 

“When you almost got us killed?”

Last year, at the same party, when you showed up in a skin tight Shego costume, Wonwoo pulled you to the only available room: Seungcheol’s. It’d been hot. Fucking when you aren’t supposed to, having Seungcheol pound at the door while Wonwoo came down your throat (no condoms and no hope to clean up).

“Do it again.”

His hand creeps into a loose collar around the base of your throat. You keep rubbing between your legs, working up a slick slide until your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

“Really?” There’s no need for muffling the noise when it's his room and the only people at risk of hearing anything have done far worse. He pulls you to your feet, forces your cheek against the door and slides right behind you. Like he was made for you.

“Choke me,” you gasp before digging into the sick part of your brain that likes seeing him strung out, extra breathy just to see his eyes go wide. “Sir.”

Your skin sticks to the door, shamefully squeezed as he drags his cock through the mess of your pussy. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because—”

“Because what?” you goad. “Gonna punish me?”

“You’d like that wouldn’t you? Show up wearing this,” he grits, tugging at the white fabric bunched around your waist, using the hand on your throat to squeeze your cheeks tight with authority you drool for.  “Asking to be choked and now you probably want me to spank you and call you a good girl.”

You grunt through the raw thrust at your gut, sending your head back from sheer enthusiasm. “N–not my fault you fuck me so good.” 

Wonwoo almost can’t control himself, hearing nothing but praise fall from your mouth as he fucks you limp against the door. “God.”

Someone screams, “Leave room for Jesus!” from the other side of the door and you almost rip it open to kill them if Wonwoo wasn’t dragging you to the bed. 

He folds you onto your front, both standing at the foot of the bed. A deep roll of his hips and you’re filled completely. 

“O-oh, fuck me,” you moan, uncaring if the idiot outside the door is still listening. Wonwoo has a hell of a hand and puts it to use against the curve of your ass. The coil in your gut pulls taunt as he delivers one after another.

He fucks deeper, a the hand not burn against your bottom between your shoulders. “You look so good— ah —taking my cock like this.” His voice waivers with the same stunted rhythm of his hips. 

“W-want,” you choke on spit, drooling into the comforter. “Wanna taste you.”

The animalist need to suck both your flavors off his cock nearly sends you into a fit but Wonwoo’s there, hooking his hand back around the front of your neck with a subtle squeeze. You want the stupid dress off, you want Wonwoo’s clothes off, you want to fuck him where there’s no one around to catcall in the hallway like twelve year old boys. Want. Want. Want.

What you get is enough pressure from his fingers that your mind blanks. Wonwoo gets a tight enough squeeze on his cock that he’s forced to a grinding halt. 

Then his rhythm goes deeper, harder. Course curls against the resistance of your ass until you almost collapse against the edge of the bed. His cock hits that spot like it was made for your body. “Touch yourself.”

You comply without further command. You’re wet, soaked, arousal smeared down your thighs from Wonwoo’s treatment. Your fingers bump against his length as you match the pace of his strokes. “Fuck, Wonwoo — hmmm.” 

“Tell me how it feels,” he gasps like it’s his first breath in hours.

“Wet, so wet,” you croon, arching harder, joints locking. “Gonna cum. Oh my god.”

He reaches low, grabbing your hand from between your thighs and pulling it to his mouth for a taste. His tongue slides between your digits, liquid slick with a soft suction your crave on your clit. 

“Beg for it.” Wonwoo bites your shoulder hard enough you cry. 

Stuffing your hand back between your legs, you play with your clit clumsily. Until pink crowds the edge of your vision and it hurts. “Please, please! I need—Want it. Wanna come for you. Please, sir.”

Wonwoo strains to hear your pleas over the clap of bodies. He’s worked you near the middle of the bed, practically laying on top of you as he fucks in quick succession. 

“Harder, fuck me,” you demand. “Yes, yes, y–yes!”

If you were on top you’d fall straight off, jerking tightly under Wonwoo’s weight, turning your face to greet his tongue between your teeth and mewling sensitivity. He doesn’t show mercy, continuing to fuck you through the worst of it.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, head throbbing. Wonwoo forces you back on your knees and you fight through sore muscles and sensitivity to preen under the weight behind his hips. 

“Can I come in you?” he asks in a shivery breath.

You nod with closed eyes, tugging the hand around your throat to your lips and sucking his fingers like it’s a cock. He finishes with a choked breath, flooding your insides with sticky warmth you’ve never gotten used to in all the months you’ve fucked without condoms. 

His breath fans against the nape of your neck, another swivel of his hips from the sensitivity. Your walls squeeze as Wonwoo pulls away. 

You roll onto your back with a bounce, Wonwoo jostling you when he joins. Shoulder to shoulder, you stare up at the ceiling while catching your breath. “Do you think you’ll pop a boner when your students call you a sir next year?”

Wonwoo heaves a long breath, amusement in his voice. “I come inside you and that's the first thing you think of?”

Immediately you regret the joke. Since Dr. Wagner’s announcement weeks ago neither of you had broached on the topic of what happens after graduation. Mostly from fear. But also because it’s a long discussion you’re not exactly sure what you want out of.

“Answer the question.”

“I hope not.”

The bed shifts beneath your knees as you crowd over Wonwoo, laying with his arms behind him to keep from sinking flat. The tired lines of his face look deeper in the lamp light. He’s nothing more than a big softie that wants to cuddle half naked in his bed while you play with his hair until sleep finds its place.

“It’s our last Halloween party.”

“Wow, just like old times,” you snort. “Should I start crying? Then it’ll be just like freshman year all over.”

Wonwoo laughs, his hand snatching yours and lacing your fingers together. “You wore a bra and bunny ears freshman year so if you’re gonna whip that out too – by all means.”

“God, we were so lame,” you announce matter of factly. Crying in lingerie and animal ears in one of the supply closets downstairs all because—

“Don’t rope me into that, miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’.” Wonwoo rolls on top of you, hoping to silence whatever argument bubbling in response with a teasing press of his lips. You're still sticky with sweat and spit and cum, nipples and pussy out and the thought of his dick, limp against your thigh, makes you sensitive all over.

“That’s former miss ‘crying-because-she-didn’t-know-how-to-suck-dick’,” you trail off into his mouth. “And you’re one to talk. Remember the time you cried about how happy you were that we were friends.”

He bites your lip in retaliation. “I didn’t.”

“You did. I have the video from Mingyu.”

“I thought he was an idiot.”

“He is but he’s good for blackmail.”

You might consider staying the night if he keeps tracing his nose along the arch of your collarbone. But a shrill giggle and some pornographic moans ring through the walls of the neighboring room. Not the side Seungkwan occupies. Hoshi’s. And it’s only the start.

“We can’t sleep here.”

Wonwoo collapses, tugging you with him. “I can’t ditch again, I’m on pledge duty.”

“You’re hiding in your room with me.”

“Okay, technically I’m on pledge duty.”

He wouldn’t stay here if he wasn’t required. Wonwoo hates party nights, especially Halloween. Too many variables requiring all hands on deck; too many needy people demanding his presence for some issue that could’ve been handled if they used their brain to think farther than the tip of their nose. Rarely, if ever, does he sleep in his own bed when you have a perfectly good one tucked away in a private apartment without thirty other men tripping over each other. 

“Well, I’m not sleeping with that.” On cue, another whimper, clearly a man’s, breaks through the tentative silence. Are they fuck against the shared wall?

Wonwoo sighs, scrubbing his face before moving for his phone. “I’ll send one of the kids to walk you.”

“Wow, a pledge escort. How thoughtful,” you sneer.

He huffs again, unwilling to start a fight that’ll leave neither of you satisfied. “Text me when you get home.”

You don’t.

There is an unspoken habit between you and Wonwoo that Sunday mornings are spent at the only reasonably priced coffee shop just near your apartment. A charming hole in the wall, with hanging shelves displaying layers of tchotchkes, paintings lining whatever free space between them, and wobbly tables with equally unbalanced chairs. It’s always packed because the coffee is decent and they have outlets. After last night, you hope he’s too exhausted to even think about showing up.

Mugs click against dark lacquered tables, the dull murmur of conversation churns over the music swelling softly through the speakers. The smell of pastries and espresso wake you enough to slide into a vacant table in the corner and set to work. 

Or you would’ve if someone didn’t sit down first.

“Oh.”

Wonwoo already has a mug and a little brown bag as he looks up at where you stand dumbly.

“I can just go…sit somewhere else…” You turn to leave, except there are no other tables. Couples and groups claim every single seat except the one across from Wonwoo.

“Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, probably because I’m mad at you.”

He unpacks his laptop, shaking his head. “You’re not mad at me.”

“Yes, I am,” you emphasize. 

“You’re a bad liar.”

Neither of you are good at lying. Even worse at fighting. Incapable of committing to real anger when it takes all your energy to stand up straight and not fall asleep in a pile of ungraded papers and half finished assignments. Besides, you're only pouting because he passed up a night at your place to clean up pledge vomit. 

You can’t tame the annoyed grin cracking your face.  “Fine, I’m not that mad at you. Buy my forgiveness in the form of coffee.”

“Too much caffeine will kill you.”

“I can only hope,” you sigh, arms cradling your head against the hard wood of the table while he joins the queue at the register.

Wonwoo orders your drink and a cheesy pastry the size of your head, the smell of greasy carbs first thing in the morning softening the ice in your veins. He knows your weaknesses too well. 

“Is this penance?” 

“Something like that.” He tears the crispiest corner off and pops it into his mouth.

“Did you look at the study guide for Calc yet?”

Two hours later you approach the counter for a second round of coffee and snag one of the jammy tarts Wonwoo likes but rarely buys for himself. Whatever chaffs between you two melts under the constant stream of note checking; Wonwoo’s hand on your knee under the table helps too. 

“If I look at this anymore, I’ll run into traffic.”

“We’ve got the Nano project that needs some work,” you suggest. 

He stretches wide, a sliver of skin visible between the hem of his sweater and the band of sweat pants. “I’ve got practice in an hour. We can do it tonight when I’m done.”

You try not to stare and instead return to focusing on the screen of your laptop burning your retinas.“I’m tutoring Seungkwan.”

“After?”

“He’s gonna be a bitch and the last thing I wanna do is look at more school stuff.”

“Then no school stuff,” he decrees with finality. “I’ll bring mushroom pad thai from that place on Market.”

“Are you trying to bribe your way in?”

“Is it working?”

You hum a dismissal but watch him through your lashes. He looks good – washed in late afternoon glow, hair a mess with glasses and a sweater that hangs off his shoulders. It all screams ‘drag me to bed and nap the rest of the day’ which is trouble for you because you still want to be mad at him if only to see how fair he’s willing to go for your forgiveness.

“We can watch Yellowjackets,” he barters, packing his bag.

Another group eyes your table with hope to claim it the second it’s available. Sadly, your ass is firmly planted for the rest of the afternoon. With or without Wonwoo.

“You’re really trying to butter me up, aren’t you?”

“I cannot sleep in that house,” he deadpans. “Please take mercy.”

“Oh, so you’re just using me for a place to sleep. Even after I wore that stupid Halloween costume?”

He pauses, eyes glazing like it’s a distant memory and not less than twenty four hours ago. “You looked hot.”

“You made that pretty clear.”

“Anyway, I’ll come over after practice. You can bitch about Seungkwan until you pass out.”

“Fine, but if there is no pad thai then don’t come.”

“Whatever my woman demands,” he snorts, dropping a kiss to your lips before turning towards the door.

Two hours and another coffee later, Seungkwan occupies Wonwoo’s abandoned chair. There’s no reason for him to be taking an intro chem class as a Creative Writing major other than the fact he’s a bit of a masochist. He’s not half bad at it and doesn’t really need any tutoring but you get paid for showing up even if it’s complete silence as you pick your nails until he needs something.

You’re marking through his latest attempt when he finally speaks up, “You're dating Wonwoo, right?”

Red pen scratches through the edge of the paper. “What?”

“You and Wonwoo.”

What is the absolute configuration of the two carbon atoms in this compound? More red ink.

“What about me and Wonwoo?”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes with exasperation, like you’re on the outs of some obvious joke. “Dating.”

If an alkene has 24 hydrogen atoms, how many carbon atoms does it contain? Another X.

“No.”

“Oh, I thought—”

“We’re just friends.”

When 10 g of 90% pure lime stone is heated completely, the volume (in litres) of is liberated at STP is… Wrong, again. Which makes no sense because Seungkwan is good at this level. He’s fucking with you on purpose.

“Huh,” he comments, grabbing the worksheet back from your claws.

“‘Huh’ what?”

“I heard a rumor he had a girlfriend last night, that’s all.”

It's not the first time someone assumed there's more between you and Wonwoo then there actually is, your fib last night clearly fanned the flames of even more speculation. But neither of you date; not enough time, willpower, or patience to entertain someone around packed schedules. If you and Wonwoo didn’t have the same life within the chemistry department then you’d never see each other. It’s convenient as it can possibly be. 

Maybe at one point there was. Summer of sophomore year when he studied abroad in Spain and the usual substance of correspondence morphed from memes and jokes to something softer; I miss you’s and you’d like it here’s. Late night phone calls that lasted hours, refusing to hang up first until one of you fell asleep and the other finally canceled the call. 

But the opportunity to tip over the edge came and went without coalescing into whatever was on the other side. 

Seungkwan can pretend it’s an innocent suggestion but he stares you down until you crack with your own curiosity. “Who told you that?”

“Some pledges said they accidentally hit on his girlfriend. I don't even think he knows another girl beside you. Plus you were at the party last night.”

Stupid fuckers, you mutter under your breath. “We’re not dating.”

“But you guys are always together.”

“We work together. You and Vernon are always together, are you two fucking?”

“My room is next to his and it doesn’t sound like work to me.”

“How does me failing you sound?” you spit. 

Seungkwan doesn't so much as flinch at the threat but returns to the practice sheet with a smile nonetheless. 

Typically, fall break is spent hidden away in a pile of blankets with you and Wonwoo alternating movie choices throughout the weekend. Dead Poets Society (him), When Harry Met Sally (you), Over the Garden Wall (him), Fantastic Mr Fox (you), and so on and so on.

This year, you have a strong feeling Dr. Wagner’s favorite pastime is seeing her TAs squirm. It’s the only explanation for the unique brand of humiliation she subjects you and Wonwoo to. Tonight, Friday and technically your first night off for the long weekend, she decides to engage in a new sort of torture. A fancy dinner that neither of you could ever hope to afford, and even as her treat, you still eye the menu prices nervously. 

But Dr. Collins sits across the table, in the flesh, so you pull out the skills you learned in the ridiculous theater class you took freshman year to “diversify” your transcript and smile through the anxiety. 

Wonwoo does a little better; in a button up you’ve only seen him wear a handful of times when his usual wardrobe is sweatshirts and free shirts from campus events, he looks more comfortable than you feel.

“Jill, tells me you both work on Epitranscriptomic mapping in her lab?” Dr. Collins asks after another sip of his drink. Two whiskeys at dinner. 

It’s not an official interview. Not anything close to it, according to your advisor. Nothing is set in stone, even if Dr. Collins laughs at Wonwoo’s awkward jokes and nods enthusiastically to your stories about working in the library (he also worked in the library in undergrad, but used it to nap more than actually work). But it feels like a step in the right direction. 

“Yes, sir.” Wonwoo and you nod in tandem.

Dr. Wagner’s research focuses on how different RNA modifications vary across various cell types and states. It’s high level stuff that no one but Wonwoo understands when you rant about the broken Cellraft machine. And his complaints about NovaSec’s constant crashes that leave him without work fall on deaf ears except when they’re directed at you. 

Half the reason you two started speaking during orientation is because the overly enthusiastic intern asked what people were looking forward to the most during school. You and Wonwoo were the only ones who seemed to think she meant school-related and not where to buy a fake ID. Apparently, the best person to get a fake ID from was a junior in Dr. Wagner’s lab that year. Go figure.

“I’ve seen you two listed down the line as co-authors,” he nods. 

The waiter brings dessert, spiced toffee cakes and ice cream. You’re starving but the knot in your stomach from when you sat down is even tighter and all you can do is pick at the plate.

“Well, Y/N does a lot of the troubleshooting for the RNA degradation issues,” Wonwoo shares. 

Your face heats at the unexpected but not undeserved compliment. Dr. Wagner’s work isn’t cheap and the thought of wasting valuable money, money that could line the pocket of an extra set of hands, forced you to run a tight ship. The other researchers in her lab could say what they wanted behind your back but Dr. Wagner nods with fondness and you try not to preen.

“We’d be a mess if it wasn’t for her,” Dr. Wagner agrees. “The lab techs should write her a card.”

Not wanting to leave him out, you shoot a look to your left where Wonwoo pulls at the napkin in his lap. “Wonwoo is the one that made sure the parameters made sense for the last publication.”

“Also true.” Dr. Wagner smiles. “I told you, Harry, they’re my best students. Excel a mile past my TAs last year. They work together exceptionally well. If I could keep them both for next year, I would.” She says it with finality. There might very well be an opportunity to stay here and continue in her lab, even if your ambition has outgrown the place you’ve called home for four years.

The table is cleared, your plate full of mashed cake and melted ice cream with not a single bite missing. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally; physically from the three all nighters you’ve pulled this week. There’d be an earful from Wonwoo about the dangers of sleep deprivation (hypocrite) but he looks like he’s seen a ghost tonight and won’t sleep himself.

Dr. Collins glances at his watch with a muffled yawn, “My, my! Look at the time! My apologies I didn't mean to keep us all out so late. I know you two probably have far more interesting things to be doing than spending the evening with a couple old timers like us.” He winks at Dr. Wagner, who rolls her eyes and hands the check back to the waiter who can’t be more than nineteen. “It looks like I’ll have some tough decisions to make in the upcoming weeks. Best of luck to the both of you.”

Hands shakes all around, and an awkward shuffle at the door and Dr. Collins and Dr. Wagner disappear into the night, leaving you and Wonwoo alone on the long walk back to campus.

You don’t beeline to your apartment for a debrief. Or even to ignore the obvious awkwardness cracking between. A bench to the side of the campus green is where you find yourselves, across from the fountain that upholds the tradition of drunken seniors taking a dip during finals when they’ve given up. 

You want to drown in it.

“Wonwoo,” you whisper. “What happens if one of us doesn't get in?”

“I–I don’t know.” He peers down at you with what you think is grief and the white noise that follows his quiet admission chokes painfully. There’s no plan B for something like this

If you got in, then Wonwoo did too. An unfounded assumption that wherever you went he’d be there too, based on almost four years of something between you. Too much to be friendship but too scared to call it something else. Something more. All the stereotypical college firsts had been with him or witnessed by him, you assumed grad school would be the same.

But it can’t be.

“Then we should end this.”

The words are out like shaken champagne, a dramatic explosion you can’t take back; a mess in the slimmest inches of space between your bodies on the bench in the freezing air.

“What?” he says.

You can’t swallow back down the idea. Wonwoo won’t let you. Maybe you don’t want to. You stare at the fountain across the green with a twitch in your jaw. 

“One of us is gonna move to Boston and the other is gonna have to figure it out and I’d rather not hate you or you hate me when it happens.”

You won’t take it back but you won’t look at him either. 

“You think I’d hate you?” 

He’s staring at you. You can feel the burn of his gaze on your cheek where embarrassment heats as well.

“I would.” You ignore the break in your voice at the complete lie. “I’d hate it if you got in and I didn’t. Even though you deserve it and I couldn’t be mad about it. I’d hate it. All I’ve wanted since freshman year is to go there, and I won’t ruin it for you just because I can’t have it.”

For a painstaking moment, he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders are still rigid and he props his weight into his knees, head bowed so you can’t even see his face in the stark street light. He doesn’t do anything until you do, until you slump with utter defeat.

“Fine.”

“Fine?” Your voice pinches in your throat.

“What else is there? You’ve already decided for the both of us. That stupid fucking program matters more to you than—”

You heat close to explosion.“It’s not stu—”

Wonwoo rushes off the bench. “It is! It is because we’ve been dating for the past three years but you won’t even fucking admit it! You’ll tell some stupid pledge I’m your boyfriend but everytime I think we’ve worked it out – that you’re finally ready to talk about it – you pretend nothing is happening.”

“That wasn’t—” you shake your head.

“It’s fine. I’ll get over it.” 

You move quicker than he does and find his hand, but he doesn’t want to stay and you can’t stop him from leaving. “Wonwoo.” 

“Stop.” His voice is stoic, whatever emotions previously controlling him locked up tight behind faux dismissal. “Just…stop.” 

If you’re going to lie then the smallest favor you can do is obey his command. You hide your face in your hands, cheeks hot and eyes stinging. Because if you look at him then you’ll break into a million pieces. You’d admit to lying to his face; that you could so much as entertain the idea of hating him.

Wonwoo waits but you say nothing. No argument, no final comment. 

When you finally look up he’s far enough down the sidewalk that the pathetic croak of his name is unheard.

Endpoint: a critical moment in a chemical process where a specific change indicates that the reaction is complete. 

Two days later, when you finally get the balls to call Wonwoo and apologize, to tell him he’s right and that you’re an absolute idiot, he’s already blocked your number.

In a game of passive aggressive pettiness, Wonwoo takes gold.

He won’t talk to you outside of class and lab hours. Even then, he refuses to look at you; talks straight around you. Any form of correspondence you receive has Dr. Wagner’s name attached and anything you send without it is loudly ignored. 

Other people notice too.

In study hours, the students notice, whisper to each other when Wonwoo snubs your attempt to discuss a batch of graded homework in favor of focusing his attention on a cowering freshman who looks like he might piss himself when Wonwoo calls him by name. All the others bury their heads in their textbooks in fear he’ll pick them next.

In Nano, when he shows up just in the nick of time to leave his self-assigned seat next to you empty, and instead sitting next to the door. You feel the eyes on you, hair standing on end at the back of your neck when Dr. Lim stutters through his intro with wide eyes at the scene.

Seungkwan shows up to tutoring significantly less interested in your love life. Or he pretends he isn’t. He doesn’t ask outright and there’s pity in his eyes, thick enough you want to burst into the tears you’ve waited to come for the past two weeks. Instead you feel hollow. 

Even Mr. Lee, the night guard at the library, eyes your solitary exit with something like concern. Even going so far as to call campus public safety to escort you the short walk home.

Your other friends try to take you out, get your mind off the tilt in your world axis. You go. Sit at bar tables and laugh when you're supposed to, make empty conversations with strangers but you don’t care. You want to go home and curl up in your own misery like a blanket and cry until your eyes swell shut and pass out from exhaustion. Eventually, they stop asking if you want to come and just leave ice cream and bottles of wine on your doormat as support.

Your grades don’t suffer, and that’s the only thing you can cling to right now.

In Dr. Wagner’s office, an impromptu meeting under the guise of setting final exam expectations and tinkering the schedule, Wonwoo continues the harsh coldness of silence; content to pretend you don’t even exist. 

You work through it easily enough. You and Wonwoo have the same finals so there's only two schedules (Dr. Wagner’s and your shared one) to coordinate for extra study hours. The entire ordeal takes ten minutes to complete the shared calendar, pack it full of final lab meetings and deadlines for grading.

And when it’s over, you move to rise but Dr. Wagner stops you short.

She looks sheepish which is an odd sight. Immediately, you go to the worst. You grit and swallow and sit back down in the same upholstered chair from the last time she dropped a bomb in your lap. 

This is the bandaid rip you’ve waited for all semester. Whatever is at the end of this meeting means you finally know if you’re good enough or not. If karma does justice and gives Wonwoo the spot in Dr. Collins lab next year because you committed the sin of wanting it too much, sacrificed too much.

“It seems my attempt at friendly competition had some…unintended consequences.”

Where sizzling anger would once flourish and bloom, nothing but empty exhaust stutters to life. “What?”

“Last year, the second my TAs found out I’d recommended them, they slacked off. Missing class, incorrect results in the lab. Now I know you two are hard workers but I was afraid senioritis might set in and I’d have to lay down the law. I don’t like being harsh with my students, not directly anyway. I want the best out of them, and I knew I could anticipate the best from you two. I was always planning to recommend both of you to Dr. Collins. I told him he would regret it if he even thought about not making space for you both next year.”

“What?” you repeat again.

There’s a weight on your knee. You don’t even need to look to know it’s Wonwoo’s hand. He doesn’t look before flipping it over when you place yours on top, fingers knotting together; holds it tight like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. You unconsciously squeeze and he mimics without thought.

“So what does this mean?”

“Dr. Collins can’t outright say it but he’s on the admissions board and decides who gets to join his lab. He was adamant that both of you join him in Boston.”

“But we haven’t even—”

“I know, but the application is a formality at this point.” She waves a dismissive hand. “Your work speaks for itself.”

Wonwoo is still there, clenching your hand for dear life. Waiting for the other shoe to drop because there is no way – no way – it’s this easy. Months at each other's throat from the tension and for nothing. You’re sweaty, heart thumping loud enough it might break from your chest and skitter on Dr. Wagner’s desk. She keeps talking and you still haven’t looked at Wonwoo.

“I’m so proud of you both!” she beams. “And I’m sorry if I’ve…complicated things…for the two of you. It was never my intention. Now, go! Rest! Take the day off and celebrate. Send me the links to your applications and I’ll do my part so you can finally relax before finals.”

The pair of you shuffle outside like zombies. In broad daylight, the world keeps spinning and someone drops their coffee a little further down the street and curses a storm; a car honks at a biker, there's packs of students shuffling around where you stand dumbfounded. Your sweater does little to block the chill of late November wind.

Wonwoo still hasn’t let go of your hand.

“Did that just happen?” he asks.

“What the fuck.”

“What the fuck.”

Your laughing, deranged and fatigued cackles that earn several looks but on the cusps of finals it’s not uncommon enough to stop anyone out of concern. “What the fuck!”

You’re not sure what to do. Celebrate? Cry? 

It’s a little bit of both as Wonwoo swoops in, wrapping his arms around you tight enough to squeeze a surprised scream from your lungs. He’s not done, lifting and spinning you around in a quick circle before crying, “What the fuck!”

You laugh, snorting ugly cackles as he almost drops you with both of you gasping for breath. Completely deranged but what just happened that the rift between you momentarily heals.

Wonwoo sets you down gently but keeps close, his hands your waist like he’s afraid to let go. Like he’s missed you just as much as you’ve missed him. You finally look at him, and it’s the first breath of air after drowning for hours. The creases around his eye, the happy wrinkles around his nose. His hair is long enough it brushes your skin where your foreheads almost touch. His hold is like a cocoon of warmth.

“I’m sorry!” you blurt. “I’m so fucking sorry. I’m stupid and stubborn and I’ve been so caught up in this program that I—”

“No,” he shakes his head, arms tightening as you squirm in his hold.

“Let me finish.”

“No,” he says. “I like that you're stubborn and a pain in the ass. And it wasn’t fair that I expected you to just push aside something like grad school for me. I was being selfish and—”

“I love you.”

You might say it again just to see the way he chokes and turns purple; pulls you closer. He’s at a loss for words and you capitalize on the moment.

“I’ve thought about what would happen if I didn’t get in, like a million different possibilities and never once were you not there. I felt like…I don’t know, honestly. Like I was losing you and it was easier to be upset about the program than admit that. It was stupid and I’m stupid, and I’m really bad at speeches so…feel free to shut me up or whatever.”

You wait for him to process what you’ve said – a million emotions swiping across his face. Ridiculous some people act like he’s the embodiment of stoicism because if you know what to look for then they’d realize he’s terrible at hiding the way he feels.

“You love me?”

All that crying you did in the past few weeks means nothing because you could cry right now. But you don’t look away, you don’t ever want to look away from him again because you’d miss the way his face softens.

“Well, we’ve been dating for the past three years. It’s about time I told you.”

Wonwoo doesn’t speak, facing morphing into confusion before he scoffs with disbelief. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey!” you stomp but Wonwoo pulls you closer, buries his face in your neck and squeezes so tight something feels on the verge of popping in your spine. His ears burn red as he whispers those three words back quietly enough you strain to hear them. He bites your shoulder just to be an asshole.

“What the hell was that for?” 

He does it again.

“Stop biting me you freak, we’re in public.” You pinch his side for good measure and only then does he smash the side of his face to yours and begin walking you backwards, in the direction of your apartment.

“Whatever, you love me.”

He lets you walk normally at the cross walk, your hand in his, both tangled in the warmth of the pocket of his sweatshirt because it’s fucking cold and the wind isn’t helping. Wonwoo drags you straight home, up the stairs, and crowds you against the door and kisses you until you can’t breathe.

“Why are you crying?”

You are. You don’t even realize it had started until you reach up and feel the dampness on your cheeks.

“Probably because I haven’t slept in two days and I missed you, idiot.” Wonwoo kisses you flat on the mouth again at the confession, smiling big enough it’s less of a kiss and more of teeth pressed together. But it’s good. You like it. You speak into his mouth, “I promise I would have really ‘sloppy I love you sex’ but I’m so tired I think I might throw up.”

“You missed me.” he hums, more of a statement than a question.

“Yeah, big head, I missed you. Now let’s sleep.”

“God,” he moans, biting his lip in mock pleasure. Maybe even real pleasure at the idea of a Friday afternoon full of nothing but hazy dreams in silence rarely found in a frat house. “I love you too.”

You undress straight down to your underwear. Cotton with a conservative cut because in no universe did you think you’d end the day with Wonwoo back in your orbit. Wonwoo who loves you, Wonwoo who you love back. But he eyes you like you’re a grand prize and all he wants is to touch you. But the rush of adrenaline keeping you conscious is burning out quickly.

He strips too, nothing but boxers and circles under his eyes but he’s happy. It radiates off him in waves and if you weren’t part of it, you’d throw something at him because it’d be annoying. You might just be glowing too.

You slip under the covers and Wonwoo snuggles up behind you, a second skin with his hand flat to your stomach to keep you from going anywhere. Not that you would. You don’t even remember falling asleep. 

When you wake up, it’s dark outside; which could mean it’s been minutes or hours since the winter sun likes to deep beneath the horizon early in the afternoon. It’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks.

Everything is warm; your body beneath the comforter, where sweat sticks at your back, the lips dragging across the curve of your neck, Wonwoo’s crotch firm between your legs.

“Good morning to me,” you sigh.

He hums in happy agreement, tongue traces the shell of your ear before kissing across your cheek and chin and finally landing on your mouth with a kiss that can only be described as sappy.

“Got started without me?” Your hands press under his underwear, two palms full of his ass holding him still enough to grind up into. Something about a sleepy make out has you hungry to lay there and take whatever he’ll offer.

“I’ll catch you up, don’t worry.” 

You snicker, “No wonder those freshmen have crushes on you.”

“What do you mean?” He traces your naked sides with his fingers.

“I’ll catch you up,” you mock, then wince from a razor of his teeth as he shifts down your chest. “If you were my TA, I’d try to fuck you.”

“I’m trying to have’ sloppy I love you sex’ and you’re trying to goad me into some student teacher shit?”

He bites your side, just a nip but you flare and blush anyway. “Ooooo, tell me I’m bad.”

“You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

“As I was saying,” he whispers into your stomach, fingers tugging your panties off. “Sloppy I love you sex.”

“Okay, okay.” You sink a hand in his hair only for him to tug it away, fingers laced together over your sternum as he strokes you to life. “O-oh, that’s—fuck.”

He hikes a leg up over his shoulder, out of the way for the fingers that satisfy the empty squeeze in your gut. Your tongue prickles with another goad but Wonwoo senses it first and swiftly works to silence you with a hot kiss to your clit that makes your vision bleed red.

The cold of the room works in his favor, pinching your nipples tight until you cave to the need to touch yourself. If the light was on then he’d watch and you get the urge to pause the action just for the chance to watch him watch you.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt. 

He eats it filthy, spit and arousal forming a wet mess slipping down your ass. The way his tongue lashes is nothing short of despicable and you know you’re the one that taught him that and you can’t help but flare with pride. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m—” you chant blindly.

The warmth between your legs surrounds, suffocates until your thighs go numb and your shoulders pull away from the mattress with a groan rivaling porn; but you mean it. Wonwoo means it too. 

You clench harder, revitalized in the stretch of another finger and a clip of teeth on your clit.  You tug at your still clasped hands on your chest, bite into the meat of his palm and let the flood consume you with stiff legs and tears in your eyes. “Oh, Wonwoo – u-ugh. Fuck. Fuck.”

Wonwoo takes it, mouth waiting for every eager roll of your hips; completely unphased until you melt back in the sheets with a pathetic mewl.

He kisses up your body, mouth and cheeks wet and warm. When he reaches your mouth you resist the urge to lick him clean. Something about that feels decidedly unlike sloppy I love you sex. So you slip your tongue between his lips instead and spread your legs until his crotch is level with the raw sensitivity of your own.

“Roll over,” you pant.

Like an asshole, he laughs. And then he drops his weight behind his hips and you actually see stars. “Wanna do it like this.”

“Make love to me,” you croon.

He doesn’t even pretend to stifle the obnoxious snort. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“What happened to sloppy I love you sex?” 

“Getting to it. You like it when I come inside you?” Now he’s the one goading and you’re blushing like you’ve never fucked him before. To be fair, you haven’t fucked him as the man you’re in love with so it’s a first time for the both of you. Wonwoo’s drunk on the power of having you stutter through something so familiar yet new.

“Love it.” 

“Good,” he agrees with a saccharine peck to your nose that makes you feel like a doe eyed virgin again. “I love you.”

Your need for games and pretense dissolves. You just want Wonwoo, all of him, until you can’t take it any more. 

Wonwoo senses the change, noses against your cheek before kissing you. He’s still holding your hand, the other cupping your jaw, thumb tracing the curve of flesh. It’s vulnerable and soft and something you probably could’ve experienced years ago if you weren’t willfully blind.

“I love you, too.”

You whisper the confession so quietly it doesn’t even make a sound but Wonwoo figures it out because he surges into action, pulling you to the center of the mattress in all your naked glory. The flood light from the side of the building reflects back in through the slats in the blinds and Wonwoo sits up to soak in what he can see in the limited light.

Twisting a hand in his hair, you pull him down for a kiss; forcing all the emotions you have to the surface. He doesn’t make you wait. Instead, he drops flat, flat together from head to toe as he slips inside. You’re still tight and sensitive, squirming at the feeling of being stretched so thin with Wonwoo wrapped tight in your arms.

“W-wonwoo,” you mewl. You know he loves the sound of his name, any time, in desperate moans and sleepy coos. You’ll say it as much as he wants to hear if he kisses you like he is now – with something new at the edge. Something needy. “More.”

He wraps your legs around his hips, folding you clean in half with a heavy rut into your pussy you’ll feel for days. You both want to drag this out – take hours to come apart and come together again and again – but Wonwoo is already working a hand between your bodies; stroking you over hot coals just to hear you moan his name again.

In record speed, you feel that familiar burn creeping along your spine. He fucks you into a wet mess and it’s all you can do to hold on and claw up his back. Breaks you into something limp and pliant, hands twisted together over head; tugs at that loose thread over and over until you unravel beneath him and Wonwoo watches like it’s magic.

“Oh- oh, Wonwoo–” you cry. Actually cry. Tears he swipes away with a thumb before pressing his mouth to yours.

You’re swollen and stiff, muscles taunt while they twitch from a rush of complete bliss.

“M cumming, baby – oh my god.” Wonwoo bucks into the tight squeeze of your legs, deeper, harder, more. “Love you—fuck.”

He hides with soft sighs in your neck, skin sticky where you both slide together. You cradle him to your chest, fingers rushing through the sweaty tangles on his hair gently. A kiss to his head, his brow, his nose that wrinkles from pure content.

But you’re not done yet.

You wiggle from beneath him, peeling yourself off the pillows, lower half still numb from one hell of an orgasm. But you want more, insatiable and doped on years of repressed fondness. “Can you go again?” 

Wonwoo looks like you asked him to run a marathon. “You want me to die?”

“Worse ways to go,” you coo, sinking low enough to take his cock in your mouth. It tastes like you and him and it makes your eyes roll.

“God. I didn’t know sappy sex meant you’d try to kill me,” he moans airly under your ministrations, a hand at the back of your head when you show off with a nose to his crotch before sliding off. “You’re evil.”

“I’m in love with a sexy nerd and I'm horny,” you sigh dreamily, thrilled with the way he pulses in your hold.

“Yeah, well…” he gives up on whatever rebuttal under the weight of your body on top of his. Nothing he can argue with in that statement anyway so you tease him with a kiss, smile when he chases your mouth, roll when you realize he can taste the mix of you both off your tongue.

“You know…I’ll need a roommate in Boston.”

“Huh,” Wonwoo feigns. His focus is on the way your tug at his cock, spit and cum webbed between your fingers. This isn’t the best way to have this conversation but you’re both high on sleep deprivation, love, and orgasms and it encourages loose lips.

“Know anyone interested?”

He shudders back into the pillow, leaving his neck open for your teeth with a choked, “Yeah.”

“Who?”

“Me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah —fuck—wanna wake up to you every morning.”

“Even if I’m a cranky bitch?” Your knees bracket his hips, cunt split on his cock as you grind against the underside.

His stomach caves as he responds with a thin voice, “yeah.”

You like waking up to him too. Falling asleep with him tangled in your body, listening to him hum in the shower when he thinks you aren’t listening. Sometimes he even sings with a little encouragement like those times you were sick and the only thing that got your mind from exploding like thunderclaps was the lullabies from his childhood that he cooed into your hairline.

Starting and ending everyday with Wonwoo sounds nothing short of blissful.

“Okay.” You tangle his fingers with your own, rising on your knees to distract from the sheepish smile splitting your face in two.

“Really?”

“I like having you around,” you admit, sinking down on his cock. “Makes me feel better.”

Weird conversation over the back track of slapping skin and pathetic muffled sobs but you like it. Feels well overdue.

“A-about?”

Everything.

He gives a tender squeeze to your thigh, cradles your face in both hands, eye contact that you fight not shutter away from because it’s terrifying he can see you clearly. 

He’s lost; completely mesmerized by the way you bounce on the length of him, grind back into his lap like you’re possessed.

“Can’t last—” he chokes.

“S’okay,” you press the words into his cheek, his jaw, the bones jutting from around his collar. “Just wanna feel you.”

You bend and strain for his pleasure, to watch it dance across his brow as he cums inside you again, his hands heavy on your ass, your thighs, whatever he reflexively grips in a bid for grounding, nails leaving streaks of color. Twitching and jerking in sensitive painful bliss, his eyes roll back with a quick exhale. “Fuck-k.”

You're sticky and used between the legs but you take comfort in the feeling and bask in the glow on top of him. Nothing but a pile of satisfied boneless goo where you lay with sweaty skin and heat you feel from the top of your head to your toes. “Good?”

“Great,” he hums, pulling into one last toe numbing kiss. 

When feeling returns to your bodies, you spend the rest of the night eating greasy pizza on the couch in nothing but his shirt, drinking wine straight from the bottle in celebration. You kiss Wonwoo whenever you want, which, admittedly, is a lot; a flurry of sappy pecks over his face leaves him blushing and dewy. When you fall asleep after making love once again, the last thing you hear is him saying he loves you too.

Epilogue

4 months later…

There’s a certain level of comfort that comes with receiving an official acceptance email. The words you’ve been waiting to hear since Dr. Wagner all but confirmed your future in a fifteen minute meeting last semester.

On behalf of the Chemistry department, we are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted as a part of…

The big envelope in the mail today helped too.

Wonwoo sends a photo of his, unopened, because you promised to open them together tonight. On your date; which is nothing more than grading assignments and eating leftover take out on the couch like so many nights have been spent already. But this time he’s your boyfriend. And after all the worksheets are graded, and you get to cuddle deep into the worn couch cushions, you get to tell him you love him and he’ll say it back and the flutter in your veins at the thought is nothing short of magical. 

And this time you have a surprise waiting for him and he might just cry. Or you hope so. You’ve got $50 riding on the possibility.

You’re sweating through your shirt from putting the new piece of furniture together for the past three hours by the time he shows up with a bag of takeout, Thai food from the place on Market where they know you by order, and a kiss you’ve been missing since the morning when he left for one of his stupid workouts. 

Wonwoo sets the bag on the counter, immediately pulling you into his arms before sagging like a deflated balloon. “Pixel got adopted today.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” He’s moping. He accepts your placating kiss with a pout, and starts unpacking the food.

You feel the smallest flutter of guilt but it's worth it.  “That sucks.” 

“She needed a good home.” Wonwoo confirms and that's the end of the conversation.

Even in your final semester, your schedules are still packed. Crammed full with meetings, exams, work, Wonwoo’s volleyball stuff that you attend with posters and sit near the other girlfriends. It’s weird but not because its the same stuff you two were doing for years. But it’s exhausting.

So you don’t blame Wonwoo for not noticing the newest addition to your apartment until he’s inhaled his food and the last third of yours.

“Babe.”

“What?” you ask, focusing on cutting another red slash into the white paper.

“What’s that?”

He points at the gigantic cat tower in the corner next to the couch. It’s cramped in tight but in two months you’ll both be in Boston with a bigger apartment with real bedrooms so it’s only temporary.

You shrug and make another mark. “Oh, just something I picked up.”

“You don’t have a cat.”

“Huh. Weird.” Your eyebrows furrow in mock confusion but you keep grading papers or else it’s game over and the need to watch him puzzle together your plans is all you want. “Then what’s the thing in the bathroom?”

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” you confirm.

Wonwoo stares open mouthed, between you and the bathroom door and back to you. He might pinch himself but he flies off the couch with childlike eagerness and your face hurts from smiling already.

Pixel spends the rest of the night curled up asleep on her new dad’s lap and you’re $50 richer. Mingyu’s girlfriend is already offering to catsit despite Mingyu’s pouts about losing money.

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi

@writingbarnes @dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts

@wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos @seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially

@scoupsjin @isabellah29 @luvseungcheol @crisle19 @iamawkwardandshy

@lukeys-giggle @aaa-sia @tinkerbell460

closing night | backstage series | l.sm

He felt like home. Like coming home after a tiring day, you can finally relax and unwind. The comfort of his affectionate embrace is everything you've been longing for in the last few days.

♡︎ pairing: lee seokmin x afab!reader ♡︎ genre: fluff, smut mdni you'll get blocked ♡︎ aus: theatre performer seokmin, fake dating with benefits ♡︎ word count: 12.8k

↣ part 1, part 2, part 3, navi post

₊🎧: show me - devita | slow dance - shownu x hyungwon

₊ tagging: @aaniag @madein97line @cottoncheol ty ty ty ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ♡︎ ₊ nsfw tags under the cut

♡︎ warnings: swearing, pet names: noodle, baby (hers), smut with plot, soft dom seokmin, big dick seokmin, dirty talk, making out, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m, f), swallowing, a bit of praise kink (f), a bit of hand kink. | again, this is not proofread so i apologise for any mistakes or inconsistencies

part 4

Three years before.

The gentle sounds of the nearby river flowing lulled you into a peaceful nap.

As you slowly woke up again, confused as to why you were in a park, you felt gentle fingers brush your hair. A warm voice singing a tune over and over again.

You were lying on the grass, your head resting on Seokmin's lap. Then you remembered that you were on the park with your friends to wind down after a long practice session for a course that was important to you.

There was a small mark on Seokmin's jeans where your drool had landed. Ashamed, you reincorporated in the grass, the back of your hand wiping away the drool on the corner of your mouth.

"I drooled on you," you muttered, feeling a bit groggy still.

"I know, I felt it. Disgusting," you heard him say with a chuckle.

You turned to see him. His dark brown hair was hiding beneath a green cap.

"Sorry," you mustered a shy smile.

"I'm only joking, noodle," he reassured.

You noticed that Soonyoung and Seungkwan were nowhere to be seen. And the sun was no longer at its highest point in the sky.

"How long did I sleep for?" you asked, fumbling on the grass for your phone.

"I don't know. You have a very deep sleep, though," he commented with a chuckle. "Some kids came here with loud speakers to do a dance challenge and you didn't even budge. Was funny."

Embarrassed, you found your phone in your backpack. "Haven't been sleeping lately. I've been pulling an all-nighter this week for finals."

You saw that it was already 4PM. So you had slept in Seokmin's lap for about 3 to 4 hours. You felt your heart drop.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" you asked, horrified that you had slept for hours on his lap.

His lips pressed in a small smile, he shrugged. "I thought you'd needed it," he went to grab his things, and stood up. "Hungry? D'you wanna go grab something to eat with me? I'm buying."

"I uh... thank you," he held out a hand to help you stand. "But I should go home. I have to keep studying," you muttered shyly, brushing the dirt and grass off your clothes.

Seokmin had been a very attentive friend lately. After months of you being in their friend group, you had grown really close to him. And besides letting you sleep on his lap for hours, he'd been making sure you eat, that you get home safe and sometimes he brings you coffee when he knows he'll find you in the library.

His usual response was that you had helped him a lot with homework and assessments at university, and that he felt the need to pay you back all the time. As much of his explanation was correct, you did not want to dig any further.

"That's okay," he shrugged again. "But you've been pushing yourself too hard lately. I don't want our noodle having a burn out for being an overachiever," he cooed, dropping an arm on your shoulders as you walked through the park, beside the river.

"It's this stupid art history final 'm worried about," you mumbled, trying not to think too much of his arm draped in your shoulders.

"Don't worry, noodle. It's just a test. It won't matter in a year, or in a month," he chanted carelessly.

"But–maybe you're right. But it matters to me now," you mentioned.

"I can help you study," he suggested, dropping his arm from your shoulders.

"The last time you helped me study you fell asleep in the library," you reminded him, but couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"And you let Soonyoung paint my face with your markers," he pouted. "You're right, I shouldn't help you."

You laughed, remembering the pictures of him asleep on the library with doodles on his face.

"We can grab milkshakes and you help me study for a bit. Fair trade?" you suggested.

"Or, I can help you study today and you come with me for the job fair next week," he countered.

"I'll go with you to the job fair either way, we don't have to trade that," you said.

Seokmin has been anxious about that job fair for weeks now. Apparently some theatre companies and different acting agencies will be there and he wanted to make some good impressions, but he couldn't do it alone.

"Promise you'll come with me?" he asked.

You suppressed a smile. "Sure."

He held up his pinky finger out to you and you scoffed, he held it closer between you, insisting. "You've been standing me up lately, don't wanna risk it."

You intertwined your pinky with his. "I promise."

"Good. Now, milkshakes..."

Your chuckle was interrupted by your phone buzzing in your pocket, pulling it out from your pocket you went to check it.

[4:19 PM] youngho ♡: bbgirl [4:19 PM] youngho ♡: wya? [4:20 PM] youngho ♡: i'm outside your building

"Oh, crap," you muttered, and Seokmin leaned to peek at your screen. "Sorry, can we move our study sesh to tomorrow? I totally forgot I had a date with Youngho."

Seokmin coughed, masking his chuckle. "Sure, I'm free tomorrow," he muttered awkwardly. "I thought you said you called it off with Youngho 'cause he was a mess."

"He is," you muttered. "I decided to give him a second chance."

"Why?" Seokmin's frown deepened.

You shrugged. "He's kinda cute. I don't know."

Seokmin snorted.

"What?" you asked, a shy smile appearing on your lips.

"Nothing, nothing," his smile faded as he looked at the ground while he walked beside you. "Can I ask you something?"

You were taken aback for a minute, seeing that Seokmin got serious all of a sudden. "Sure, what is it?"

He was biting his lower lip, looking at the sidewalk as you continued walking toward the bus stop. "Do you see this thing with Youngho going somewhere?"

"Oof. Don't know. Don't think so," you shrugged. "Maybe it's just a fling. Why?"

He bit his lower lip, looking a bit lost in thought. "Dunno. I was just thinking that's kind of difficult for me to date lately."

"That reminds me," you mentioned before crossing the street with him at your side. "Didn't you tell me you were going to ask Seoyeon out?"

"Who?" he muttered, his mouth pouting. He shook his head slightly. "Ah, yeah. I didn't."

"Why not?" you frowned. His face looked deep in thought.

"I forgot," he muttered.

You narrowed your eyes as you both waited for the bus for you. "Did you chicken out, Lee Seokmin?"

He smiled sheepishly. "No," he mumbled. "I just forgot."

"She thinks you're cute! You should get to know her," you landed soft slap on his shoulder. "She is nice. I like her."

"Maybe you should ask her out," he muttered, the tips of his ears bright red.

"That's not what I meant!" you whined. "Come on, Dk!"

"What if I don't like her at all? I want to ask someone I know I like," he murmured shyly.

The bus was approaching the stop. The screech of the brakes almost drowned out his voice, but you managed to catch his words.

"Then you should go ahead and do it," you replied simply with a smile. "That's me. I'll see you later, Dk!"

You waved goodbye as you boarded the bus, choosing a seat where you could still catch a glimpse of him. He smiled back at you, a bittersweet smile.

Present day.

It has been just a few days since you last saw Seokmin. But he's been living in your mind every day, making you miss him with every second that passed.

You attempted to maintain your daily routine, and keeping yourself occupied proved effective, for the most part. However, there were days when you felt terrible, and Seungkwan couldn't help but notice, persistently badgering you about it until your shift at the coffee shop concluded.

It was the last week of your season before the last night of show. It's been six weeks since you and Seokmin started fake dating. And four days since he called it off, confessing that he had broken the promise he made to you.

That promise meant that your fake relationship would be only just for fun. No real feelings.

You tried to keep your mind off the memory of him. You were in the middle of brewing coffee, since you haven't been sleeping well for the past few days.

The buzzing of your phone snapped you out of your train of thought.

[10:21 AM] soonie: i got the role [10:21 AM] soonie: ╥﹏╥ [10:22 AM] soonie: did u get the role too [10:27 AM] soonie: don't leave me on read

Those were the messages you had already read. Ignoring him was not always easy, given his insistence. However, his rapid-fire texts sometimes gave you a headache.

[10:40 AM] soonie: sigh [10:40 AM] you: i got the role too soonie [10:41 AM] soonie: we're kissing ig 🤮🤮 [10:41 AM] you: it's just 1 night every week, chill [10:41 AM] soonie: FOR 7 WEEKS [10:41 AM] you: it's just a simple kiss soonie [11:42 AM] soonie: WHAT WILL I SAY AT YOUR WEDDING FEAST [10:42 AM] soonie: scratch that [10:42 AM] soonie: how will i be able to look at dk in the eye after i kiss his girl ? [10:42 AM] soonie: 🤮

Soonyoung obviously didn't know that you and Seokmin weren't in a relationship, he didn't even know that it was all completely fake. You didn't know how he'd react. But you decided not to tell Soonyoung anything yet.

You got an email confirming you had gotten the role earlier in the morning. So you'll be Satine for 7 weeks. And not only that, you'll have to extensively prepare for the shows.

Now that the company recently acquired a bigger production team and acquired the permissions and rights to adapt more popular works into theatre, you had the opportunity to get bigger roles.

This was a big opportunity for you. It meant bigger audiences, larger shows, larger runs. Training, classes, reading, learning scripts, work, work, work.

But it was okay, you needed to be busy.

The reason why Soonyoung was freaking out was because you'll have to kiss him for one particular scene. From what you knew, it was a passionate kiss. But you two were actors, kissing people for a scene was normal.

When you kissed Seokmin for the first time, you were acting. You were pretending to be his girl for a night to make your friends see that you were over your ex.

But even going back to the memory, it wasn't like acting on a stage. You felt something. Whenever Seokmin touched you, kissed you, you felt things that you usually didn't feel on stage.

Did he feel the same things you did when you first kissed?

The mere recollection of him caused your body to ache, and you physically recoiled from the memory. This same feeling had been happening ever since Seokmin left your apartment that night he confessed his feelings for you.

Pain. Fear. Regret.

But you couldn't quite put your finger on why.

Seokmin was your best friend. He has been for years now and you were in the brink of losing him to your bad choices. You knew that having sex with him blurred the lines of your friendship with every encounter you had. But you didn't seem to care in that moment, now you regret it.

You never intended for this to go so far. In the beginning of it all, you just thought it was a fun little secret you had with Seokmin. A fake relationship between two friends who like to fuck. The first time you had sex with Seokmin, it was purely that. Just sex.

All because you wanted people to shut up about your cheating ex. You didn't even feel something for your ex anymore, so you didn't think that you were using Seokmin as a rebound. But it felt wrong.

So, it was a particular shitty day for you. You didn't even felt like celebrating the news of your new important role.

Later that day you had your shift. You dragged yourself to the coffee shop, when you arrived fifteen minutes late, you knew what would happen.

"There you are," Seungkwan said, putting his phone in his pocket. "I've been calling you. Are you okay?"

Your brow furrowed. "I'm fine, Boo," you searched your pockets. "I think I left my phone back in my apartment. Sorry."

He eyed you up and down for a second, a worried look on his face. "You look like shit."

You scoffed. "Thanks, man."

"I mean it. Are you sure you're okay?"

You rubbed your face with two hands. "I'm just tired, that's all."

He pursed his lips for a second. But decided to continue his task for the moment. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Boo, I'm fine," you insisted.

"I'm worried!" he exclaimed, annoyed now.

"Don't be," you muttered, taking your position at the cash machine. "'m fine."

You heard him scoff, but didn't say anything else anymore.

The shift was difficult. You didn't think of Seokmin for hours, but you felt the echoes of your worries affect you in other ways. You'd forget simple things, mix orders and make minor mistakes that cost you time.

It was starting to annoy you. This failure in your mind due to your stress from the idea of losing your best friend. He told you he wouldn't go anywhere. But what if he did? What if he backs out seeing your apparent indecisiveness?

The shift ended after long hours of you fucking up. Luckily no one told you anything, in fact, you felt a bit annoyed that no one said anything. Instead, your co-workers seemed to be giving you the pity treatment again. But now for a new reason unbeknownst to them since you weren't saying anything.

You just looked like you're close to breaking. You looked like you were holding back tears and you might as well be.

Keeping secrets could be like that–weighing heavy on the heart. You realized that there was nothing wrong with opening up about what had been tormenting you for days.

And you just needed to let it all out.

"Seungkwan," you muttered as you were closing the shop.

"Yes?" he lifted his gaze from his phone almost instantly.

"Can we talk?" you asked and your voice sounded small.

He put his phone in the pocket of his jacket. "What's wrong?" the tone of his voice was soft. So soft that you felt like breaking into tears.

The pavement where you were standing was empty and the streets equally desolate, except for the occasional passing car that interrupted the silence with the sound of tyres on the wet pavement. The night was still, as if it had fallen silent to listen to the words you were about to say.

"I fucked up," you muttered in a shaky tone. "With Seokmin."

His gaze softened and he gently pulled you into a warm embrace, his hand resting on your shoulder. It was at that moment that you could no longer contain your emotions. You broke down in tears for the first time since Seokmin left, tears ran down your face in his comforting embrace. It was an abrupt release, and the intensity of your tears took you by surprise, as if it was proof of the depth of your emotions and the relief of finally sharing your burden with your best friend.

Broken sobs were muffled in Seungkwan's shoulder as his hands caressed your back, soothing you. "That's it, let it all out," he hushed.

"I– I'm sorry Boo," you sobbed.

"Why? What happened?" he asked, still in a soft tone.

"I lied to you. We never had a relationship. It was all fake," you mumbled, trying to get the words out as fast as you could, cringing with every single one of them.

"What?" his hands on your shoulders pulled you from the embrace. "Why?"

You wiped your face off your tears. "It was a stupid thing we came up with on the opening night. We pretended to be a thing, but we messed it up."

His eyes unfocused from yours, his mouth parting a bit. "Ah, I see. I knew there was something off," his brow furrowed, eyes locking on yours again. "But why lie? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was tired of people asking me about Youngho, I just wanted to make it stop," you sobbed.

"Why not just tell me to stop asking?" he shook his head and blinked rapidly. "Fuck, I know you did tell me, forget I asked that. But, why did you say you fucked it up?"

"We had sex," you mumbled shyly. "A lot."

He cringed visibly. "Right. That I did know," his brow furrowed. "But you made it seem like it was normal."

"We promised it would only be that, a no strings attached thing. No feelings, we would remain as friends only."

Seungkwan listened intently, but you saw something in his face that he could tell where the story was going.

You inhaled deeply, trying to calm yourself down but the tears wouldn't stop coming. "Seokmin called it off last saturday," you mumbled.

"Let me guess, he's looking for something serious," he inferred, nodding at your reaction. "And you don't want that?"

"That's what I don't know," you sighed. "I can't deny my feelings for him, but I'm not sure if I'm ready for that step."

"Why's that?" he ask, a genuine curiosity in his voice. "Didn't you just said you had moved on from your ex?"

"I have moved on," you insisted. You paused, your thoughts gathering as you considered your response. "It's not about my ex. It's about me. I don't know if I'm truly ready for something more with Seokmin."

He nodded, seeming understanding. "I get it. It's important to be sure of what you want. But I thought you really liked him. You seemed really happy with Seokmin."

Your heart twinged with pain. "I do like him, Kwannie. I really do and it drives me crazy," you shuddered. "What if I fuck this up again? I don't want to lose him."

Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "You're annoying. You won't fuck this up, you know why?"

Your best friend wasn't really annoyed, but he looked like he wanted to whack you in the head.

"Why?" your voice still sounded small.

"Because you love him. You won't fuck it up. You're just scared and that's completely okay. It's human," he shrugged and patted you in the back.

You didn't stop at the word again, but it did had an effect on you. Love.

"God, I hate when you're right," you sniffed, wiping your face with the sleeve of your sweater.

"You're not off the hook yet. You did lie to me, for weeks," he pointed a finger to your face. "There will be repercussions."

You laughed at his fake-serious expression. "I wouldn't expect any less from you, Kwannie."

"Are we going home now?" he asked, motioning to walk toward the street.

"I'm taking a detour, is that okay?" you turned to the other direction from where Seungkwan was motioning.

To where Seokmin lives.

His shoulders slumped down a bit. "Right. Keep me updated!" he said, pulling you into a last hug. "For real this time."

"Yeah, for real this time," you hugged him tightly and pulled away.

You knew where Seokmin lived, since you all had a group chat where you shared your address, so you had learned your best friends' addresses and you all lived within a 6km radius.

Seokmin lived in a building that was the farthest, and the fanciest. He apparently had found a great deal with one of his closest friends. This 'deal' was that the building was directly across a large LED Samsung billboard that pointed directly to his and his roommate's bedroom windows.

You got in to his apartment door, a strange reassuring feeling filled you as you rang his doorbell.

For a moment you thought you might've rung the wrong door. You glanced at the number before the door and then the man that was opening the door.

"Oh, hi. You must be Seokmin's roommate?"

A tall man of deep black hair nodded, flashing a polite smile at you. "I'm Joshua. You're looking for him?"

You nodded once, then you started feeling really nervous.

"Sorry. He flew to visit his family a couple of days ago. Might come back on friday," his brow furrowed. "Do you want me to tell him you stopped by?"

Your heartbeat faltered for a second. "Uh, no, it's okay. I just wanted to tell him something."

Joshua grinned, one of his eyebrows–which was pierced, arched up. "You could've texted him. Save you the walk all the way here."

"Didn't bring a phone," you mumbled, feeling deeply embarrassed.

You felt like you could use a hug. You were feeling a bit like something's missing, like you're not entirely alone but you were. And a hug would help.

His big curious eyes studied you for a second, his grin vanished and his hand moved from the doorframe. "You okay there? D'you need to come inside? I can get him on the phone if you want."

"'m fine," you brushed off. "Thank you, though."

There followed a quiet moment between Seokmin's roommate and you. It was really brief, but it gave you time to eye behind him, toward the interior of the apartment where you caught a glimpse of Seokmin's denim jacket.

You might be going insane, because the first thought you had was to ask Joshua if he could give you Seokmin's jacket. Anything close to him would work.

Joshua gave you a knowing look. "You're her, right? The girl Dk's been seeing lately."

You shook your head. "Not anymore, at least."

He rolled his big eyes. "You theatre kids can be dramatic," he smiled. "If it's any comfort, Dk's been a soppy mess too."

"Oof, that is really comforting," you chuckled ironically. "I'll be going now. Thank you for the comforting words, though."

Joshua smirked playfully. "Anytime," he nodded with his head once. "Get home safe!"

"Thanks," you waved at him and walked towards the elevator.

The closing night of a show can stir up a lot of emotions. After performing for five weeks straight, you had grown fond of your newfound routine.

And you were excited for the next show, too. But right now you couldn't focus on anything else but this night. It marked something special in you.

You had started this season feeling lost. Wandering in the dark not knowing how to navigate in your own body after your life was changed upside down.

A lot of things happened during this season.

Even now, you still didn't know how to deal with the pre-show jitters, as you called them. You were bouncing on your feet, pacing back and forth in a hallway that led to the emergency exit. Your makeup and hair were already done, after weeks of doing it yourself, you had mastered doing them in under ten minutes now.

So you were just dealing with the emotions before the show, listening the chaos that happened every time before a show. Some dancers were late, and apparently there was something wrong with the sound system but those problems usually would be solved the moment the show started.

All you needed to do was relax. You knew your lines, you knew your queues. Why were you so nervous?

You knew it had something to do with your mood lately. You weren't as bad as when you started this season, you felt different. But still, you felt like you still needed a hug.

The side of hallway you were hiding at was deserted, you actually had to take a turn to the right to return to the dressing rooms so no one really knew you were here. You leaned back in the wall of the hallway and looked at the ceiling for a moment, you felt a bit dazed.

You sighed heavily.

Your phone buzzed in the pocket of your dress. Reluctant, you fished it out and at glancing at it, immediately your attention was caught.

It was Seokmin.

[7:41 PM] seokminnie: noodle where r u [7:41 PM] you: working. u? [7:41 PM] seokminnie: i know you're working [7:41 PM] seokminnie: i'm here [7:42 PM] seokminnie: you're not backstage?

He's here. Your heart stopped.

[7:42 PM] you: why r u here? [7:43 PM] you: ??

No reply. You stared at your phone screen for what felt like forever, but Seokmin went offline.

You thought of searching for him and just as you were raising your head from your phone, you saw Seokmin turning on the hallway, as if knowing already that he'd find you here.

Your heart raced so fast you lost the ability to speak for a second. You hated it. Hated that you felt so much that you couldn't even utter a single word.

The first thing you noticed about him was that he had dyed his hair again. His hair was now styled in a rich, deep shade of black that matched his sweet chocolate brown eyes.

He smiled softly, the dimples beneath his mouth showed and you knew you were done for.

"Hi, noodle," he mumbled.

A shudder went down your spine. "Hi, Seokmin," you swallowed hard, trying not to cry.

Then you practically leaped into his arms, and he welcomed you right in. His arms encircled your body as a sigh was muffled in the crook of your neck, your feet left the ground for a second before he put you back in the floor.

"You're okay?" he muttered, still hugging you tightly.

"'m better now," you sighed, your voice sounded shaky and that made him break away from your embrace.

"No you're not," he countered, his hands cupping your face, looking at you intently. "What's wrong?"

You sniffed and looked up to try and control your tears. "Nothing. I just missed you," you laughed sheepishly.

"I know, noodle," he replied in a soft tone, pulling you back to his warm arms. "I miss you too. Everyday."

Seokmin's scent triggered a flood of emotions, bringing back memories. The fear and pain you have felt these past few days were long gone.

Seokmin felt like home. Like coming home after a tiring day, you can finally relax and unwind. The comfort of his affectionate embrace is everything you've been longing for in the last few days.

"Why are you here?" you asked, and pulled away to see him.

He was all dressed in black, all except for his white t-shirt, which you had already ruined with your tears and make up.

"Sorry," you whispered, trying to clean off the pink make up from his shirt.

"Don't worry about it," he brushed it off. "I'm here to see you."

You blinked. "You are?"

He rolled his eyes, yet he flashed a smile that tugged at your heartstrings sharply. "It's your closing night, noodle. I wouldn't miss it."

You felt your body relax under the wave of warmth his words caused. "And how did you know I'd be here?"

He shrugged, putting his hands on the pockets of his jeans. "A hunch," he laughed with a resigned sigh. "Soonyoung told me."

He heard you chuckle and a glint of joy appeared in his eyes.

"I was dealing with some pre-show jitters," you explained, trying to get your undereye to dry without smudging your makeup further.

"I imagined. Do you still feel nervous?"

You inhaled deeply. "A bit," you said. "But for a different reason now."

He cocked his head, pursing his lips slightly, showing the dimple beneath the corner of his mouth. "What's that?"

Suddenly your mouth went dry. You were drawn to him so much you couldn't keep your hands to yourself. You pulled him into a hug again but this time you didn't hide your face on his shoulder, you faced him and he didn't pull away.

Seokmin swallowed thickly, his eyes locked on yours briefly before resting his forehead on yours, his eyelids fluttering a bit as he sighed weakly. His hands found your waist, pulling you even closer to his frame.

"We need to talk," you whispered, your hands found his face, fingers touching his jawline gingerly.

"Right now?" you felt his brow furrow.

"After the show?" you asked, your voice sounded shaky.

"Let's talk tomorrow. Would you like that?"

You shook your head slightly and you heard him smile.

"We'll talk tomorrow," he insisted. "Tonight is yours, baby."

You shuddered again, him calling you baby would never feel old.

"But–," you started.

"I told you I'd be patient," he mumbled softly as he moved his hands from your waist and cupped your face.

"But I can't be patient," you whined, seeing his face again after he pulled back.

"I know," he smiled, his thumbs caressed your cheeks softly, seeming to shudder when your hands fell from his face and found the sides of his neck. "Try to enjoy tonight. Do that for me, will you?"

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

He returned the smile. "That's my good girl," he sighed and angled your face so that he could press a loving kiss on your forehead.

The shiver running through your body made your eyelids flutter and sigh.

Then you heard commotion back in backstage that usually let you know that you needed to be stage ready soon. You looked up at Seokmin's sweet brown eyes, and he seemed to know too.

"Go. You got this, baby," he whispered with a nod of his head pointing toward the hallway.

You saw his eyes and his mouth for a brief minute, resisting the urge to kiss him. Seokmin saw you hesitate and sighed under a soft smile, using his hands on your face he kissed your forehead once and then your cheek sweetly.

"Go. I'll see you right after," he giggled.

You gently released yourself from his embrace and, just before you pulled away, you slyly kissed his cheek, eliciting another soft chuckle from him. With a quick step, you made your way back to the dressing room. Quickly, you touched up your makeup and prepared for your show.

You got this, you repeated to yourself.

As the stage lights come up, the murmur of the room died down. Taking a deep breath, you braced yourself for the start of the show, where the voices of your fellow cast members got ready for their cue too.

Everything in your head, every worry and anxiety quickly died down when you entered your scene on a dimly lit stage, your chest rose and fell with each controlled breath. As the orchestra's crescendo rose, your body became fluid and controlled at the same time, ready to reflect the passion of the character you have been portraying for weeks.

Your voice carries the weight of the character's struggles, resonating across the stage. The power and freedom you experience when projecting your voice makes you feel truly alive.

As your last scene came to its end, your voice rose, filling the space with a powerful resonance that reverberates throughout the room, the lights on you died out, the curtain fell.

And then a standing ovation erupted for you and your fellow cast members and the rest of the crew.

After regaining your composure, your chest heaving with pure adrenaline, the curtain rose again, showing you standing hand in hand with your cast and crew.

With a shared smile, you raise your clasped hands and take a deep bow, expressing your sincere thanks for the overwhelming support you received.

The staff crew swept in, you were clapping your hands together with the crowd at the same time that someone from the crew thrusted a bouquet of fresh flowers into your grasp.

You looked at the flowers. They were not roses. You didn't exactly like roses and someone was aware of that. Your fingers reached for the card tucked among the yellow and white daisies and you looked out into the crowd.

Seokmin was in the front rows, clapping proudly with a big smile. When you saw him, he waved at you with a sweet smile.

For my noodle. Let's cherish this beautiful night as you return fully on the stage again. From Seokmin.

Your eyes filled with tears and you felt yourself breaking down in a sob that was quickly muffled by the commotion in the theatre. You smiled and waved at Seokmin as a form of thanks.

But you wanted to do more. Your body urged to feel his embrace again.

What ensued next was a session for the press. It was something you have definitely done before, but it was your first as a lead. It felt long and arduous, as you were trying to get it done as quickly as possible without coming off as rude or indifferent.

You wanted to go back off stage, remove all your makeup and costume to find Seokmin again.

The flashes from the cameras blinded you briefly as you spoke, answering the questions from the press and other few people who had the opportunity for a quick commentary or feedback.

When you rushed off stage, everything was a blur. You just had finished your first season run in what felt like an eternity. It was your first season since you and your ex broke up. And it felt just so good to come back.

The jitters you had felt before were yesterday's worries. Now, you continue onwards.

There was no big after party on closing night. And you were okay with that. Some people from cast and crew were gathering at a bar afterwards but it wasn't something special or out of the ordinary, just like every friday night.

So the clothes you brought with you before the show were just comfy. Leggings, a tank top, sweater, hoodie and sneakers. Your outfit was just mean to keep you warm and comfy after the show. And you felt totally unprepared for a night out.

Seokmin was waiting for you outside the dressing rooms. Some guys from your cast were crowding around him, as it usually happened. Seokmin was a particularly shy guy, but had a lot of friends. A lot of people seemed to know him so, a small crowd followed him whenever he went.

He was chatting with a guy, looking interested but you knew it was a façade. He'd nod with his head and go 'yeah, yeah' and smile politely.

When you appeared in the hallway, flower bouquet in hand, his face lit up, apparently pulling him out from his trance. He seemed to excuse himself from the his friend group and strolled toward you, extending his arms in his way.

"You killed it, noodle," he muttered once he hugged you, his arms lifting you from the floor again, effortlessly.

"Thank you for the flowers," you mumbled in his shoulder.

"You liked them?" he asked, putting you back on the floor.

"They're beautiful," you nodded, smiling up to him. "How did you know I like yellow daisies?"

He blinked, looking back to the flowers and then your eyes. "I think you mentioned it. A while ago, I don't remember," he explained, scratching the back of his head shyly.

"I did?" you asked, feeling confused and then shrugged.

He nodded with his head, smiling softly at you. "D'you want to go where everyone's going after this?"

"Uh... no. Not really. I wanna go home," you muttered.

"Can I... walk you there?" he asked, and the look in his eye made you think that he was feeling shy.

You nodded eagerly and that made him smile broadly.

"Let's get you home then," he muttered, grabbed your duffel bag from your shoulder and threw it on his.

You kept your free hand in the pocket of your hoodie for two reasons. The first one being that it was starting to get really cold already, as the autumn died out day by day. The other reason was so that you kept your hands to yourself.

You wanted to touch Seokmin. To hold his hand as you walked on the side walk in direction to your apartment. But you knew that you had to wait until you two talked, you didn't want to cross a line again.

"I got the role," you told him after a minute of silence. You had started to feel tension in your walk, as if Seokmin were thinking what you were thinking too.

"You'll be Satine?" he looked at you with a proud smile on his face. "That's awesome, congrats."

Your fingers caressed a soft petal of one daisy. "Thanks. Soonyoung will play Christian, though. He's mortified."

Seokmin's brow furrowed. "Why? I thought he wanted this role. Something about proving himself that he can sing on a lower register."

"He's worried that we'll have to share some kissing scenes," you mumbled, and then you started to get why Soonyoung was worried, because an uneasy warmth crept up your cheeks.

"I see," he pressed his lips into a smile. "And how do you feel?"

"I'm annoyed," you replied. "I don't care that I'll have to kiss him. I'm annoyed that he's making such a fuss about it and we haven't even started script readings."

"Yeah, he can be a bit dramatic," he chuckled. "But I'm glad you got the role, though."

Seokmin stopped walking and you almost felt confused until it dawned on you that you were already outside your building. Your heart faltered a little, seeing that you'd probably had to return to your apartment alone after spending your closing night with him.

"You're sure you don't want to come in?" you asked sheepishly, pointing a thumb towards the building.

Seokmin glanced up at the building briefly, appearing to be reconsidering it. "I'm sure, noodle," he muttered with a low tone.

Your shoulders slumped down a little. "Okie dokie," you whispered, still grabbing your bouquet of flowers with one hand.

"But we'll talk tomorrow, remember?" he asked, seeing your reaction.

You made a small pout, aware of your own childishness, but going with it all the same. Seokmin responded with a soft laugh, wrapping you in a comforting embrace.

"Don't make it more difficult for me," he hummed, his head resting beside yours gently. "If I go to your apartment with you right now, I might not come out. We need to talk first. And you know it."

Your whole body burned with anticipation and your arms clung to him, pulling him close to your body. You couldn't think of what to say and it seemed words were inadequate. You simply longed for his presence beside you.

He pulled his head back, a hand cupping the side of your face. "Baby, you're killing me," he muttered, a tortuous smile creeping on his face. "Can't you wait until tomorrow?"

"Not when you call me that," you muttered, still pouting.

His gaze softened. "My bad," he sighed under a small smile that looked content on his face, even though you were pressuring him. "Let's talk tomorrow, alright? Get some rest. I'll text you."

"Fine," you mumbled, and the hand cupping your face pinched your pouting lip gently, making you smile in response.

"C'mere," he whispered, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead, his lips pressing kisses gingerly on your face.

His forehead rested on yours, the proximity of his face to yours made you close your eyes briefly and you heard him sigh deeply.

"Text me when you get home?" you asked, feeling that you just needed to get anything he'd give you.

He chuckled. "Sure thing," he muttered, not quite making a gesture to leave. "Anything else?"

"Mmm, dunno. Let me think about it," you pretended to ponder over it, only to cling to his body for a while longer.

After a brief moment, you pulled away from his embrace reluctantly. His arms relaxed around you and his sweet brown eyes found yours.

He was right. As much as you wanted to drag him into your apartment, you needed to talk first. It was necessary for you to have some order in your friendship before you could do something with him again.

It was the right thing to do. You hated it. But he was right.

"Alright," you muttered. "See you tomorrow, then."

He handed you your duffel bag back. It wasn't heavy, but being the gentleman that he was, Seokmin always offered to carry it himself.

"Thank you for the flowers," you repeated with a shy smile.

Seokmin shrugged, putting his hands on his jean pockets and eyed you up and down. He blinked slowly, his lips pursing a little.

"They look good on you," he said warmly, a predilect glint on his eyes.

A small sigh escaped you. He was just so fucking beautiful. You had to resist the urge of pulling him into a kiss right there and then. He was also making it difficult for you by just existing.

"Thanks," you whispered, feeling yourself blush a little.

"See you tomorrow, noodle," he pulled you into a last bear hug, patting your head playfully before walking away.

When you got home, the first thing you did was look for a flower vase, or something remotely useful to put the bouquet in. In view that you didn't have a flower vase, you found a jar and decided that it was good enough in the mean time until you bought an actual vase.

You found yourself smiling as you looked for a place to put your flower bouquet, deciding that the little coffee table in your living room was perfect for it.

Your phone buzzed a little while after.

[11:44 PM] seokminnie: i'm home [11:44 PM] seokminnie: gnight noodle

A smile crept on your face, feeling a tight warmth fill you in.

[11:44 PM] you: goodnight seokmin :)⁠♡

The day seemed pale and gloomy, as autumn slowly reached its peak with a frosty air. The pavements were covered with fallen leaves as you approached the park. Despite the chill, the atmosphere was pleasant.

You dug your hands deep in the pockets of your jacket. Having a but of fun with the puff that your breath created in the cold winds as you drew closer to where you and Seokmin had agreed to meet up.

It was the park you used to visit to wind down after exams when you were in university. The same park you had taken a long nap in Seokmin's lap years ago.

Did Seokmin remember that same event? You weren't entirely certain, but it seemed plausible that he chose this location because it was strategic, being a midpoint for both of you.

You were just arriving to the park when you realised that you had forgotten your phone yet again. But now it was something that made you panic a little. The park was so large that you didn't know where Seokmin might be arriving through and if he relied on his phone to find you, he could think that you had stood him up.

You looked around, thinking fast. Despite the cold weather, people were gathering at the park to walk, do exercise or just socialise. So it was a bit crowded, a bit difficult to stand out.

But then, you decided to trust, and walked toward that same tree you use to gather with your friends. The same tree Seokmin sat at when you fell asleep in his lap. You didn't think he remembered, but you had no other choice.

The walk over there gave you a chance to look around, to see if you spotted his familiar frame.

Until you saw that tree in the distance, it was located close to the lane you were walking, and it had a clearing of leaf covered grass surrounding it. It stood alone.

You caught sight of Seokmin, strolling with one hand in his pocket, the other clutching his phone, his brow furrowed in concentration as he seemed absorbed in whatever was on the screen, his steps aimless.

He had his dark hair tussled carelessly and wore a cosy looking oversized navy blue sweater, jeans and red converse. You took a second to breathe again, looked so cute, almost threw you back to your university days.

He was so absorbed in looking at his phone screen that he almost bumped into you. "Oh, I'm so sorry–," he said startled as he looked from his screen to you. "I was looking for you," he gasped. "I tried calling you and texting–"

"I forgot my phone," you mumbled shyly.

He sighed, and then smiled warmly. "Noodle, you scared me for a minute," he circled your body with his arms. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"I wouldn't do that," you said, catching a small whiff from the smell of his sweater.

He hugged you tightly for a second, rocking his body from side to side gently and taking you with him.

"Do you remember when we'd come here?" you heard him mumble and felt him rest his cheek on the crown of your head.

"Of course I do," you whispered. "I once slept on your lap for hours."

"You did?" he asked and you felt your heartbeat falter a little.

"And drooled on your leg," you giggled.

"Mmyeah I think I'm starting to remember. Disgusting," he chuckled, but he sounded fond of the memory.

He stopped rocking your bodies, pulling his head back to cup your face in his hands.

"Joshua told me that you were looking for me a few days ago," his brow furrowed a little.

You sighed. "I told him not to tell you," you whined a little.

"Why? What happened? Why didn't you call me?" his eyes searched yours.

You swallowed thickly and breathed in deeply as if gathering strength. "I needed to talk to you," your voice was shaky. "I needed to tell you how much I... missed you."

"But why didn't you tell me anything?" his hands dropped from your face, as if giving you space to talk freely.

"I... think I was scared," you mumbled feeling like you'd soon start to shake from the chill air. "I needed time to think and reflect about what I wanted but my own feelings scared me."

He listened attentively, his gaze shifting from your eyes to your mouth, a habit you had noticed he used whenever you spoke to him.

"I went to find you because I needed to tell you that I feel the same way about you," his eyes widened slightly as he took your words in, and you could almost sense the shift in his breathing. "I want to be with you too, but I've been scared to fuck this up because..."

You swallowed thickly again, the knot in your throat making it impossible to utter a word without your voice breaking.

"...because you mean a lot to me," you continued despite feeling vulnerable. "I don't want to fuck up what we have. You're my best friend, our friendship is too important to me."

His gaze softened and he tilted his head to one side, a gentle, affectionate gesture. "Why would you fuck this up? There's nothing you could ever do that would drive me away, you know that."

Your eyes filled with hot tears, and you felt your lower lip quiver under the wave of emotions commanding your body. "I know. I panicked. I–just, I want us to work."

His sweet brown eyes seemed to glint with emotion. "You do?" he mumbled.

You nodded, wiping your tears with your sleeves. "I looked for you because I couldn't stand keeping this to myself any longer," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I… I also want to see where this could go."

Seokmin looked at you with a mixture of surprise and relief, and his initial tension slowly faded into a warm smile. "I'm glad you found the strength to tell me," he said, his voice full of affection and warmth. "I also felt scared. I didn't want to rush it, I didn't want to rush you because I know you. I knew you'd need some time to think."

Your body shook with cold and nervousness. It took a lot from you to speak your feelings, let alone to confess something as important as this to Seokmin. But you felt alright, as it dawned on you that you had finally taken that step, and it felt so right.

"Can you..." you mumbled, choking with emotion, "can you forgive me for panicking?"

He blinked, perplexed. "What?" he smiled sweetly, his warm hands cupping your cold cheeks again. "Don't be silly. I have nothing to forgive."

Your hands grabbed his wrists, thumbs caressing his skin as Seokmin rested his forehead on yours. "I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never my intention to mess with you," you explained, pondering over what he said on that dark alley last saturday.

"I know, and I understand," he whispered. "You have nothing to apologise for, baby."

A shiver ran down your spine, and you closed your eyelids, savouring the moment and his comforting warmth.

You heard Seokmin sigh softly, his hands cupping your face and tilting your face slightly before his lips locked onto yours and you swore you might have melted into the kiss. You felt your whole body shudder under a wave of joy and affection as his lips pressed over yours sweetly, kissing your lower lip and cheek with such predilection that your eyes began to water a little.

As you stood there, hands intertwined, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving you and Seokmin alone, wrapped in this new reality.

"Are you cold, baby?" he asked, his tone wrapped in a gentle warmth.

"A bit, yeah," you replied.

"Mm, I can get you somewhere warm," he muttered, pulling away and you saw his face beaming with joy. "Would you like to go on a date with me?"

You smiled and felt his thumb brush the tears from your face. "I'd love that."

"Right now?"

The smile turned into a giggle. "Of course."

You started walking to the opposite direction of the park to which you got in. Seokmin grabbed your hand, locking his fingers with yours and with that brought you hand to kiss your knuckles with a smile that made his eyes beam.

The day was cloudy, with a gentle drizzle lightly sprinkling you with drops of water. The rain was gentle and intermittent, not enough to be bothersome, so you both paid little attention to it, immersed in the moment and in each other's company.

"Are you hungry? We could go to a restaurant that's not far from here," he said, as you walked hand in hand with him through the park where you used to walk as uni students.

"Sure," you said, feeling like it didn't really mattered where he took you, as long as you were together.

"Or we could go to watch a movie, if you're not hungry," he suggested, eyeing you with a smile still plastered on his face.

You laughed and that drew his attention back to your face. "You call the shots, mister."

"Would'you like to go to the aquarium sometime?" he asked, speaking so fast that you had to take a second to process what he said. "I've heard they have aquarium nights."

He spoke so fast that his thoughts seemed to be racing, a revealing sign of his excitement. This image made your heart flutter in your chest. Happiness sweeps over you, a joy so deep that you can't contain the broad smile that spreads across your face.

Droplets of water splashed in your forehead and shoulders, so icy cold that they made you flinch. Then the rain started to pour on you, washing over the park and river so sudden that took you by surprise. You had been ignoring the soft drizzling, not thinking that it was a warning of the upcoming downpour.

"Or we could run to cover," he suggested, chuckling a little. His nose wrinkled a little as the rain fell on his face.

Seokmin held your hand tight as you ran through the park and into the city streets, trying to find somewhere to cover as you quickly found a tall building that offered some roof for you to cover yourselves from the downpour.

"We could go to mine and wait," Seokmin said, his chest heaving from running, pointed a finger to the next corner of the street from where you stood. "It's the closest."

It was true. Since you both ran the other way to which you got here from yours. You nodded, your body starting to shiver from the cold water that already had your hair all wet.

"We have to run again," he said, surveying you.

"I'm okay with that," you nodded.

"Okay," he breathed and took your hand again, leading the way through the downpour toward his building.

Amidst the downpour drenching your entire body, a sudden thought struck you. "Wait!" you called out, your voice barely audible over the sound of the rain.

You tugged at his hand, making him stop, and turned to face you, concern shown on his burrowed brow.

He stared at you as you pulled him close, fingers cupping his face and a smile slowly crept across his lips. He took you by the waist, understanding your and your gazes met.

Your noses bumped lightly and you noticed Seokmin's soft chuckle, his warm brown eyes shifting from your gaze to your lips. Then he leaned towards you and his lips met yours in a gentle kiss, as your hands pulled him even closer.

The kiss was brief, but you tried to savour every second of it. You saw his eyes again when you pulled away, his hands on your waist not quite letting you go, his heavy lidded eyes looking at you with so much love that made you shudder.

"Let's go," he muttered softly, leaning to press a loving kiss on your forehead before walking to the lobby of his building.

It was really hard to keep your hands off him. When you were on the elevator, you had to settle for just kissing his face softly, eliciting some sweet chuckles from him.

His apartment was dark and empty when you got there. Seokmin turned the lights on, realising that his roommate wasn't in.

"You want to take a shower? I can lend you some clothes and dry yours on the dryer," he said as he removed his shoes.

You could only nod, feeling so cold that your whole body trembled. Seokmin saw you and gave you a soft smile, taking your hand to swiftly lead you to the bathroom, he got the shower ready as soon as he got you in.

"I'll bring a towel for you," he said, exiting from the bathroom and probably leaving you to have some privacy to remove your heavy soaking wet clothes.

You heard him return when you were already beneath the warm water from the shower.

"I left you dry clothes and a towel here, noodle," he announced quickly before going out again.

The clothes were his, a wide black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. The sweatpants were too baggy for your frame, but you could adjust the waist to fit.

He laughed a little when he saw you coming out of the bathroom. "You look tiny," he chuckled. "Are you okay with those? I can lend you other things if you want."

"I'm okay with these," you assured him, looking at your body with his baggy clothes. Your legs did look shorter.

"Okay," he said and then he removed his sweater in a swift movement, revealing his lean torso. "You can wait in my bedroom if you like," he suggested.

"Okie dokie," you muttered, without taking your eyes off him.

He sighed under a cheeky smile, bending down to give you a chaste kiss on your mouth. "I'll be there shortly, baby."

You found his room intuitively, since the two doors down the hall from the bathroom were facing each other, one was closed and the one opened revealed Seokmin's things.

His curtains remained open, allowing the bright city lights to cast a range of colours on her bed and the nearby bedside table. The bedside table held a small, softly glowing lamp and a book, which made you think of his reading habit before sleeping.

The window offered a glimpse of the source of the light illuminating his room. The building opposite his window was of a shorter height, revealing the rooftop within view. Perched atop it was a broad LED billboard displaying various advertisements in vibrant hues.

There was a dresser that had a bunch of clutter on top of it, caps, hats, fun glasses, sunglasses, fake glasses, and a pile of screenplays from past roles he had.

But a certain object caught your eye, and your heart fluttered a little when you saw something that once belonged to you. It was a black and yellow bracelet, the yellow beads were painted with smiley faces by you.

You thought you had lost it a long time ago. It just turned out Seokmin had it all along.

After that, you took the liberty of lying on his bed. His creamy white duvet was soft and you could smell the detergent on the pillows. You closed your eyes, hearing the soft cacophony of the rain patter on the windows.

When Seokmin returned, he was draped in a navy blue bathrobe and was using another smaller towel to dry his dark hair. He saw you lying in his bed a soft smile tugged his lips.

"I forgot to tell you," you muttered, sitting up on the edge of his bed, "I like your new hair."

He hummed with a smirk. "You do?" he asked as he closed his bedroom door.

"Mmyeah, you look good," you smirked too.

His fingers tugged at the knot of his bathrobe but he stopped. "Close your eyes, noodle," he chuckled, making a gesture with his hand.

You rolled your eyes. "Nothing I haven't seen before," you muttered while smiling at him.

"But what if I'm shy?" he said while pouting cutely and you noticed that he was joking.

He tugged at the knot of the bathrobe, undoing it at the same time that Seokmin smiled at your eager eyes. The robe parted and a shudder shook you slightly when you saw his body completely naked as he removed the robe from his shoulders and hanged it on a hook on his door.

"You don't close your curtains?" you asked, seeing his body covered by the vibrant colours that the billboard projected.

"What for? No one else is watching," he smirked, turning to look for something on his drawers.

You bit your lip, still watching his body move, every muscle of his legs that tugged with his walk as he pretended to search his drawers. He looked at you through the corner of his eye, letting out a soft laugh.

"Baby, stop eye fucking me," he muttered shyly. "It's making me hard."

You bit your lip harder, trying to suppress a smile, but your core was already throbbing at the sight of him–his large cock was stirring up, stretching up slowly.

"Can I help you with that?" you asked eagerly, practically drooling at the sight of his cock getting harder by the second.

Seokmin turned to face you, still some steps far from where you were sitting on his bed. "Mm, I was thinking of waiting until we actually started having dates and stuff," he confessed, but the tip of his cock was already darkened in a reddish pink.

You smiled sweetly at him, looking riddled with the dilemma he came up with himself. "We can start dating tomorrow," you suggested innocently.

He chuckled softly, moving from his drawers to you. "That bad you want me, baby?" he asked, closing the distance until his knees where brushing with yours. His cock so fucking hard that was pointing upward and inclining to the side a little.

You couldn't resist any further. Your hand grabbed his cock, which was completely hard now and pumped it a few times, making him sigh shakily. You saw his face, as he tilted his head to one side when you used a hand to rub the tip of his cock that dripped in his precum, smearing it all over his soft and warm skin.

"Yeah, that bad," you replied before guiding his cock to your lips.

You slid your tongue around his cockhead, tasting his precum before you took him inside your mouth, your tongue gliding across his length as you tried to take him to the hilt. But you decided to take it slowly, your hand pumped at the length you couldn't reach with your mouth, starting to move your head back and forth slowly.

"Fuck," he whispered, grabbing your hair at your scalp his hands, tugging gently. "You take me so well. So fucking good."

The sound of his voice made your core pulsate a little, and you hummed on his cock as you pulled your head back, hollowing your cheeks before swirling your tongue on his tip and pushing your head as far as you could, until you felt the tip of your nose touch with his pubic hair.

Your darted a look at his face, he was looking at you, his throat bobbed and moaned softly when you pulled back again while hollowing your cheeks and swirling your tongue around his cockhead before pushing in again.

"Mmmfuck. Keep doing that, baby," he muttered, one of his hands moved from your hair to clean drool from the corner of your mouth, his other hand worked on grabbing your hair as efficiently as he could.

You complied, but you started doing the same movements faster. The sounds coming from your mouth as you sucked him off resounded on his bedroom, mixing with the soft sounds coming from Seokmin.

"That feels so good, baby," he hummed and you could sense that it was taking all his strength not to move and start thrusting his cock in your mouth himself.

You kind of wanted him to. To grab your head and start fucking your mouth hard and fast but you knew you weren't ready for that. Each time his cockhead reached your throat you had to breathe in through your nose, his cock so big that you could barely work your mouth on it without gagging.

He cleaned more drool from your chin, using that same hand to get some tears from your eyes. "Can you swallow, baby?" he asked in a strangled tone.

"Mmm-mmph," that was all you could make out in agreement while you still had his cock stuffed in your mouth.

His hand moved from your chin to join the other one grasping your hair and you knew he was about to cum from the taut look on his face. His breath hitched and his mouth parted a little, letting out a groan, blinking slowly as he dumped hot spurs of cum on your throat and you swallowed every single drop of it.

"Good girl," he whispered, gathering more tears from your cheeks with one hand. He let go of your hair gently to cup your face and slowly pull out from your mouth.

He bent down and sealed your lips with a kiss. You moaned in response, thinking that he would taste himself in your tongue as his slid in your mouth. But he didn't seem to care and moaned softly, pushing his body on top of yours, making you lay in his bed.

"Your turn, baby," he groaned, taking the shirt you were wearing on his hands and you arched your back for him.

He removed it and quickly went to get the sweatpants he lent you, which were already ruined in your own arousal. Seokmin saw the glistening streak smeared all over the crotch of the inside of his sweatpants and smiled before throwing them on the floor.

He got up from the bed and knelt before it, your body shuddered with a warm eagerness when you knew what that meant. He yanked you down on his bed, grabbing you by your thighs and you placed him on his shoulder, earning a proud look on his face when he saw you anticipate him.

His hands pressed gently on your lower belly before he dipped his head down between your thighs, licking a stripe on your wet pussy. You moaned loudly and took his head with your hands, your fingers tangling on his wet hair.

Seokmin immediately knew how to work his tongue on your cunt, so he wasted no time and started lapped his tongue in your folds, wet sounds coming from the interaction of his tongue on your core, licking your arousal as if it were his favourite meal.

You cried out, arching your back on his bed. Your legs were already shaking, your body building up towards your release. The tip of his tongue made its way to your clit, teasing it and nibbling at it with his lips until he got it to swell before he expertly started sucking at it, pressing his tongue on it and moving his head up and down lightly.

"Seokmin–," you called in a high keen whimper, "f-fuck, don't stop. Please, baby, don't stop."

He hummed gently, complying as if it were the only thing that mattered. Your body started trembling more as your orgasm shook you, washing over you in warm waves of pleasure that had you arching your back and calling his name loudly.

You breathed hard, body twitching on his bed uncontrollably as his mouth worked on you until he felt your limbs relax. He planted sweet kisses on your thighs and removed his hands from your lower belly.

Panting, you opened your eyes, feeling your lashes wet in tears and blinked until you saw Seokmin's body hovering on top of you.

"You're okay?" he asked and you nodded. He dipped his head again and kissed you softly. You hummed in his mouth, tasting your taste on his tongue as it lapped your lower lip and tongue, dominating the kiss.

"Seokmin," you mumbled in his lips.

He pulled away with a wet sound from breaking the kiss.

"I want you," you whispered, using a hand to push his wet bangs away from his forehead.

He smirked. "How do you want me, baby?"

You rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your face. "Fuck me, Seokmin. Make love to me," you mumbled, searching his face.

"In that order?" he asked with a breathy laugh.

"In whatever order you want," you muttered as he bent to plant open mouthed kisses on your mouth, then down on your jaw. "I just need you inside me, please."

"Mmm," he hummed as his mouth reached your collarbones. "My pretty girl, so impatient as always," he muttered as he reached your tits.

His hand and mouth teased your nipples, kissing and tugging at them softly. You moaned, your hands finding his wet hair again.

"Please, baby," you whispered. "Jus'need you."

He chuckled, moving his mouth to the crook of your neck. "Keep calling me that and I might give you what you want."

You were still placed in one side of the bed, your ass almost hanging at the edge of the mattress, your legs wrapped around him. Seokmin had one of his knees placed on the bed and one foot down on the floor for support. It seemed an odd position but, you decided not to budge.

Then his lips pressed a wet kiss on your sensitive spot, gentle kisses trailed from the crook of your neck to your ear lobe. He heard you moan and sigh as his lips travelled back down to the crook of your neck, kissing your tender skin gently.

"I want you to mark me too, baby," you whimpered, grabbing the back of his neck as he licked your neck swiftly.

He hummed and complied almost instantly, his lips starting to suck at your soft skin, making you moan in pleasure and approval that you'd have his mark on you.

Seokmin marked you on both sides of your neck, just in the points he knew you liked the most and then you felt his hips come down and rest the lower half of your body on top of yours and between your thighs. Then he pushed his hips on yours, his cock sliding between your pussy lips, practically gliding in your arousal.

You bit back a moan at the feeling of his hard cock smearing your pussy in your own slick as his lips marked your neck.

"Seokmin, please," you whimpered when his cockhead pushed at your entrance briefly, sloppily before resuming to slide between your pussy lips, teasing your clit too.

He smirked, you could feel his lips on your neck as he hummed, again, as if he were actually considering your pleas. He pulled his head back, placing an open mouthed kiss on your chin.

"Please, baby. Fuck–fuck me. Make love to me. I need you so fucking much," you pleaded, thinking that you might sound dumb in your high keen whimpers and sobs.

But his cockhead stopped at your entrance again and pushed in slowly. You were so wet that he practically eased himself in, stretching your gummy walls and making you moan in the process of sheathing his cock inside you to the hilt.

His mouth parted a bit, looking at your face attentively as you cried out in pleasure, the feeling of him inside you was so good that it made your eyes water. Then he took both of your legs, and you knowingly helped him place them on each of his shoulders.

Seokmin stroked one of your legs as he eased himself in again shallow thrusts. "You take me so well, baby," he said, pulling his hips back and thrusting in with more depth.

You could only utter a half moan in agreement as his hips rutted against yours, then he pushed his body forward, pressing your legs against your chest as he thrusted his cock inside you, filling you up so deliciously that you couldn't help but cry out in pleasure.

"You feel so good," Seokmin whispered through gritted teeth.

He took one of your legs and rested it on his shoulder, pushing inside you again so deeply that you felt your body melt in a wave of pleasure. "Mmm, you too, baby," you whimpered. "So fucking good."

Then he started to pick up his pace, plunging his cock in so hard and fast that you felt your breath escape from your lungs. You cried out, your hands holding on his duvet in fists, feeling his cockhead hit a spot within you so deep, so deliciously that your eyes welled up in tears.

"F-fuck. Seokmin–," your voice came out in a broken moan. "Right there, baby! Don't stop, please."

You heard him groan and your eyes found his sweet ones. The plunging of him inside you felt so good and so controlling that your sanity started to slip from your mind. The pressure from your orgasm taking over you so hard and so unannounced that you didn't have a chance to warn him.

But he could tell from the loud cries that left your mouth, and the clasping of your walls around his cock, so erratic and tight around his girth that had him groaning your name with a raspy voice.

Through teary eyes, you watched him blink slowly, the tip of his tongue hung slightly on the corner of his mouth as he cursed and moaned softly before cumming inside you. His cockhead buried in the glorious spot inside you as his hot spurs of cum coated your gummy walls.

But he was still on a mission.

He eased your legs back down. "Scoot back, baby," he commanded and you obliged, moving your body to the centre of the bed for him.

You used the movement of your bodies to look at his body. Painted under the lights of the billboard in front of the building, you could see that his cock was still hard, glistening wet in both your cream and his cum.

You swallowed hard at the sight of him as he placed his knees on the bed, his tall body standing in front of you.

"You're so fucking beautiful," you muttered, still feeling like you were coming down from your high.

Seokmin chuckled breathily. "You too, baby. So fucking beautiful," he muttered as he slot himself between your thighs, pressing loving kisses on your face.

He slid himself back inside you, eliciting a moan from you that was muffled by his mouth on yours. Your hands were down on his lower back, feeling his hips rutting on yours slowly, almost lazily but it still felt so good, so perfect.

"You're okay there?" he asked softly when he pulled back from your lips.

"Mmmyeah, 'm okay baby," you muttered, moving one hand to cup the side of his face as your eyes absorbed his soft features under the pretty lights from outside.

You bit back a moan, hearing the squelching noises created by his cock pushing deep inside your cunt, the wet noises of your juices and his cum inside you sounded so good that you felt the need to see it too. Seokmin heard your low whimpers and the movement of his hips stuttered a bit.

Seokmin took your hand from his cheek, intertwining your fingers in his and placing it beside your head. The thrusts of his hips against yours were methodical, and almost like clockwork he started to rut on you faster.

You wrapped your legs around him, your other hand found the back of his head, caressing his soft dark hair before pulling his face to yours.

Seokmin rested his forehead on yours gently, his breath brushing on your lips. "I can't get enough of you," he muttered in between hot kisses he planted on your face. "M-might never do."

A moan escaped you, feeling a wave of both pleasure and warmth flood inside you. Your lips crashed with his, kissing him fervently as he made love to you. Passionately, hard and fast.

"I feel the same way," you sobbed. "I need you so much. It drives me crazy."

He moaned in a mixture of pleasure and agreement, a soft smile spread on your lips, feeling your breath hitch before Seokmin pulled his chest from yours, letting go of your hand to grab your hips without stopping his ministrations on you. "Cum with me, baby," he muttered, moving his hips against yours lazily.

Your hand slid where your bodies were still connected, your two middle fingers found your clit that was so covered in your slick that it was almost hard to rub it without your fingers slipping. But you pressed hard on it, your walls clenching hard on his cock as you let out a long moan.

You succumbed to a sweet, long orgasm, crying out loudly as his cock kept pushing in, riding your high and causing his. Seokmin also groaned loudly, thrusting hard and deep as he dumped his load inside your walls for a second time, his face and collarbones covered in a faint layer of sweat, chest heaving heavily.

You felt your body pulsate with his as you came down of your high. You too were breathing hard, your body slumped on his soft duvet, feeling also covered in both your and his sweat. You watched Seokmin still on his knees before you, slotted between your thighs.

It was so fucking hard to tear your eyes from him. Hell, the mere experience of being apart from him for even a few days was unbearable. Also, the care and consideration he demonstrated showed the depth of his feelings for you, too. So, maybe he was just as crazy about you too.

The lights of the billboard outside painted Seokmin's face in shifting shades of blue and pink. As you watched him, his lazy eyes, his sweet smile spread and the dimples under his mouth became more pronounced.

He was so fucking beautiful that it made your chest ache.

"God," you uttered in a broken sob. "I love you so much."

♡︎ a/n: waaaa i love seokmin sm i wanna hug him heheh. hi everyone! this one took me a couple of days to write cause i had to move but i hope you guys like it. i'm sorry if there's any mistakes, i posted this as soon as i finished it u-u

if u like this, show it sum love? pls pls i'd appreciate it ♡ and stay tuned for next part!!

btw thanks to all that have sent messages and comments, i love u all. ty ty ty

also, this fic belongs to a shared au so i'll be posting more fics with the rest of the boys soon stay tuned!

my taglist is open! just send me an ask and tell me if u want to be tagged in the other fics too and i'll add u :) toodles

All the Little Things (Come Shining Through)

➳ lee seokmin x f!reader

➳ summary: seokmin loves helping you out! he loves taking care of you! whether it be making you yummy food when you're sick or helping you reach for things, he loves helping you! so when he walks in on you shaving your legs, you really shouldn't have expected him to do anything other than offer his help.

➳ wc is approx 11.8k

➳ tags/warnings: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers. resolved pining, mutual pining. acts of service are his love language! top!seokmin, bottom!reader; service!top!seokmin. multiple orgasms, oversensitivity, pussy lover dk. fingering, eating out, mating press. bathroom and bed sex. dk's dirty talk includes lots of praise, he loves you!!! and you're gonna know it!!! petnames (baby, good girl, princess, sweetheart). razor and shaving talk, talk of body hair. talks of him listening to you masturbate, of him being a perv (sorry). big!dick!seokmin! banter and teasing, sex with light-hearted moments in between. they are in LOVE!!! and everyone probably knew except them tbh.

➳ author's note: lmk if i missed any tags! i hope y'all enjoy bc i certainly enjoyed writing it ^^ not proofread. mdni. thank you for @bitchlessdino and @himbocoups for helping me with the title!!! i really appreciate it ^^

People never seemed to believe you when you would say that you and Seokmin were just friends.

You knew what it looked like from the outside. Him, draped over your back, nuzzling into your neck; you, running to his side, wrapping your arms around his and squeezing. Him always turning to you first, holding his hand out to help you climb stairs; you watching him light up the room with his laughter and voice.

On the inside it was different. Because on the inside, for you, Seokmin wasn't just a friend.

His nuzzles made your heart flutter and tummy turn; whenever he offered you his hand you couldn't help but marvel at how beautiful his seemed, daydreaming of a day where the two of you would wear matching rings.

Seokmin was your first thought of the day and your last. The last thing you always did was send him a text good-night; the first, you'd check your phone for any messages from his. Whenever you caught sight of a flower you'd crouch down before it, trying to get the perfect angle to send him. Whenever you had something particularly good to eat you'd file it away at the corner of your mind, wanting to share it with him.

In this ever-changing world there were no constants; nothing was promised. No guarantee of two days of sunshine, no promise of a winter snow. But every day, for you, was constant in that every single day you were fully, entirely, wholly, incredibly in love with Lee Seokmin.

Nevertheless you'd swallow of that down, trying to hide your lovesick smiles and yearning eyes. For years you had succeeded, your love for him never-changing and always evolving to accommodate Seokmin as he grew from gangly teen to muscled man.

But sometimes --

Sometimes he did things that made you wonder.

You grabbed your plastic cup, holding it up to the bath faucet and filling it. The bathtub was cold beneath your thighs, you having changed into shorts and rolled them up, baring your legs to the world.

Once your leg was wet, having dumped the cupful of water, you grabbed exfoliating cloth. Adele sang from your phone as you scrubbed at your skin, your voice soft as you accompanied her.

You grabbed your shaving cream, squeezing it out onto your hand. The front door to the apartment opened and you paused, listening. And then Seokmin's voice, loud and clear, joined Adele's in harmony, and you resumed your task.

Your back was turned to the bathroom door, but you still knew when Seokmin appeared. Maybe it was from being in love with him for so long, but whenever he was near your body seemed to realize it before your mind ever did, as if it was in tune to him and reacted like a flower did the sun, constantly turning towards it.

He had paused his singing, but resumed once he found you in the bathroom. His voice bounced off the walls, surrounding you. "We were born and raised in a summer haze ~ bound by the surprise of our glory days."

You hum with him, slathering your legs with the cream. Seokmin stops belting, singing softly. He presses himself against your back, knees knocking against you, hands settling on your shoulders. "Whatcha doing in here?"

You twist your leg, making sure you covered behind your knee with the shaving cream. You often forgot about that area in particular, finding the hairs later in the night when you're in bed and cursing yourself for not being more aware.

"Shaving," you replied, spreading the cream over your knee. "It's that time of the week, Seokie."

Seokmin hummed, forefingers tapping against your shoulders to the beat of the song. "I don't think I've ever like, seen you shave."

"Well, usually I do it when I shower." You finish up spreading the shaving cream, flicking the excess into the tub. "But I showered yesterday and I don't really feel like showering today, you know?"

Seokmin made a noise of agreement. Then he ducked his head, bending. His sharp nose pressed into your hair; you could feel him inhale against your head. "Hm. Your hair smells good still."

"Still?" You parrot back, twisting to look at him. He's smiling softly, all golden skin and sweetness, so brilliant with his existence that you swear you'd need to start wearing sunglasses around him. "Are you suggesting my hair has ever smelled bad?"

Seokmin grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. He tapped at his chin in thought. "Hm. I feel as if answering this may end up with me having no roommate."

"That's what I thought." You gesture towards the counter behind him. "Can you turn off my music if you're gonna stay? Or at least turn it down. So I can hear you."

"No one has ever suggested they can't hear me before," Seokmin returned. But he did as you said, turning down the volume.

He watches, knees pressing against your back once more, as you pick up your razor. You slide off the case protecting the blade.

"Is shaving your legs hard?"

You shake your head. Then you're extending your leg across the tub, settling your foot on the opposite ledge. "It's just taxing, you know? It can get exhausting if you're standing while you do it. Plus if you shower while you do it you also risk the water going cold. And you can't really see behind your knee or other places, so you have to be careful to get them."

Seokmin was quiet. Then, "can I try?"

You pause from where your blade was pressed against your skin. Then you twist up to look at him, peering with narrowed eyes. "What?"

Seokmin shifted, biting down on his lip. He hadn't taken off his outside clothes, still dressed in a slightly too-large hoodie and baggy pants. His glasses were perched on the edge of his nose, making him all the more endearing.

"Can I shave your legs?"

You consider him for a moment. He had never asked before; no one ever had. All your life you had shaved your own legs, your own body. Someone else doing it was awfully intimate, you thought. Them wielding a blade, pressing it against your skin.

It was a form of trust. Trusting him to not hurt you; letting him run his hands over your legs, letting him close.

Shamefully your body reacted at that. Your heart sped in your chest, and a rush of heat traveled to your cunt and warmed it.

You shifted, fighting to ignore how the movement stimulated your cunt. "I mean. Don't you think it's gross?"

"What would be gross about it?" Seokmin cocked his head to the side, a gentle smile on his face. "It's just hair."

"So it is," you return, feeling a grin of your own stretch over your lips. You drop your leg from the ledge. "Go change into clothes you don't mind getting wet, Seok."

He's still grinning when he leaves the bathroom, his hands already pulling at the hem of his hoodie to pull it off. You can't help but stare after him until he rounds the corner, the image of his smooth back burnt into your mind.

You press your hand to the cold bath tile. Okay. Seokmin was going to shave your legs. He was going to have a hand on your leg, at least one; he was going to be close. He was going to be kneeling before you, maybe sitting. His eyes would be level with your knees, maybe even -- maybe even your cunt.

The thought of him sitting before you, level with your cunt, sent sparks through you, heat traveling through you and settling deep. Your cunt reacted, clenching, and when you shifted you could feel the little trickle of wetness leak from it.

Fuck. Fuck! Seokmin was doing something out of the purity of his heart, with sweet and innocent intentions, and here you were turning it into something perverted and filthy.

But still: Lee Seokmin sitting before you, level with your cunt, peering up at you with wide eyes. Him serving you, even just by shaving your legs.

Seokmin reappeared. He changed into shorts, bare feet slapping against the floor. He wore a white tank top, showing off his sun-kissed skin, strong shoulders and thick bicecps. You really couldn't help but stare, eyes traveling over him.

The way his tank clung to his chest, outlining his breasts. The way the straps of his tank top hung loosely to his shoulders, revealing smooth skin, the sharp edges of his collarbone. His sleeveless arms, thick with muscles and veins protruding when he reached out. Long legs on display, the long line of his neck shown off by the steep collar of the shirt.

And of course his face. His dark twinkling eyes and noble nose, strong jaw and high cheekbones. His large smile and how it sparkled.

Seokmin climbed into the tub, careful not to trip on you. He stood before you, grinning triumphantly. "There! All comfy cozy and ready to shave!"

You laughed, reaching out and softly kicking his shin with your toes. "Okay, Seok. Why don't we turn on the faucet, you'll need to rinse out the razor."

Seokmin flipped on the faucet, letting it trickle. Then he climbed down to sit on the floor of the tub, smiling up at you. He kicked at your foot in return. "Razor, sweetheart."

You handed him your razor, watching as he carefully slid the protective sleeve. "God, Seokmin. You've really got big ass feet."

He gasped, setting the sleeve on the tub edge. "You're so mean! Here I am, shaving your legs, and you're making fun of me!"

You extended your leg, resting it beside him. Seokmin took initiative, wrapping his hand around your ankle, ignoring the shaving foam that transferred to his hand from the action. He lifted your foot, using his free hand to tug up his shorts as to not get the foam on them, settling your foot on his thigh.

"Don't worry Seok," you wiggle your toes against his skin. He grinned up at you, reaching out and running the razor under the water. "You've got cute big ass feet."

He laughed, loud and bright. Seokmin set the razor against the bottom of your ankle, and slowly, carefully, he ran it up your leg.

You watched as he moved his hand back to the faucet, running his thumb downward on the razor, collecting your hairs from it. It was weirdly intimate, watching him clean your razor from your leg hair.

He moved his hand back to your leg, veins on his arms flexing as he took care not to be rough with you. You ran your eyes over him. His shorts were pushed up, revealing his plush golden thighs. You shifted your fingers against the edge of the tub. You wanted to reach out and settle your hand against his thigh, to feel his muscles and thickness.

Seokmin was extremely careful with you. He kept a steady grip on your leg and razor. Every so often Seokmin would lower his fae to your leg, looking over it to make sure that he hadn't missed a hair.

"This is kinda fun," Seokmin murmured, glancing up at you, "taking care of you like this."

You grinned down at him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he returned. He clean the razor, rotating your leg against his thigh. You pushed against his thigh a little; he squeezed your ankle in return. Seokmin began working at the side of your leg. "I don't know. It feels like -- I don't know. I just like taking care of you. Even like this."

You don't really know what to say to that. Seokmin was, everyone could agree, extremely sweet. There was no disagreement about that.

But his sweetness was both horrible and wonderful for you and your heart. He made you swoon and your heart race, made you want to reach out and throw your arms around him and press your mouth to his. His words and actions were dangerous -- they made you want to risk it all.

I just like taking care of you.

Sometimes they made you wonder.

Seokmin hummed along to the music, faint in the background. "Do you remember when you got sick? That time when you couldn't move?"

You sighed, rolling your eyes at the memory. "Wow. Thanks for bringing that up, Seok."

"No!" His eyes went wide, puppy-like. "No! I only mean -- when I made you that big pot of samgyetang? And I helped you wash your hair, and went and got you medicine?"

You frowned at the memories of that horrible week. "I'm sorry you had to do that, Seokmin. I feel bad making you --"

"No!" He cried out again, shaking his head. He set the razor down on the tub floor, wetting his hand under the faucet and using it to wipe down the leftover foam from where he had finished shaving. He picked back up the razor again, lowering his face to the space beneath your knee, intent on getting the few hairs leftover.

"I didn't mean it like that, sweetheart," Seokmin mumbled. He glanced up between you and your leg. "I didn't. I just brought it back up because I just wanted to say that I like taking care of you. Getting medicine, making you soup, shaving your legs. I don't mind it. Really, baby. I like taking care of you. I like it."

All air seemed to leave you; your brain flat-lined. It was like the whole universe just disappeared and nothing existed out of you, the bathroom, and Seokmin.

"Seok," you breathed, unable to really say much else. You wanted to say a million words, wanted to take the leap from off the cliff and into his arms. But how could you, when you were still unsure that he would be at the bottom to catch you? How could you when, despite all his sweet words, you didn't know the true color of them, whether they were painted in the gentle shades of friendship and platonic love or whether they mirrored yours.

He bit down on his lip, not looking at you. He moved your leg, extending it up and out. Seokmin rested your leg on his shoulder, giving him easier access to the space behind your knee.

Your shorts shifted, the movement catching Seokmin's eyes. You felt heat rush to your face. Ignoring him, you hurriedly smoothed your shorts back down, tugging them lower and concealing your inner thighs.

Seokmin went back to shaving. He gently pressed the razor to your skin, take care not to hurt you. Your gaze smoothed over the positioning of his fingers against the razor, over his strong forearms.

You wanted him. You wanted Lee Seokmin like flowers wanted sun and rain, like mountains wanted the sky, desperately rising over the horizon and kissing it.

It was horrible, you couldn't help but think. All this time being committed to Seokmin, being devoted to your friendship. Years of loving him, from the slope of his nose to his barking laughter; years of repressing it, content to just be at his side even as he held the hand of another.

You were content, you would tell yourself. You were -- you would say, watching as Seokmin looked at another with stars and suns in his eyes -- satisfied with this, with sharing memories and wishing to share a future with him, even if it meant one shrouded in friendship.

You were content with his friendly affections, you'd tell yourself. You were glad to know that every passing hug, cuddle, his sweet little kisses pressed to your cheek were all borne from the kindness of a close friend.

But your traitorous heart stammered and stormed in its trap, calling out. You weren't content. You weren't content with just staying at his side as a friend, you weren't content with knowing that one day you would watch him give his entire heart to another and you would be no one but a dear friend, a footnote in his life.

It was cruel, you thought, watching as Seokmin gently turned your leg, looking for any more stray hairs. It was cruel to love someone so kind and genuine, so sweet and honest.

"There," he announced, squeezing your leg. Seokmin smiled toothily up at you. "All done with this leg! You're as smooth as a rock, I'd say."

You raised your eyebrows in recognition. "Yeah? You reckon?"

"I reckon so," Seokmin returned. He placed the razor on the bathtub ledge, far from you. He then, softly, gently, fervently, ran his hand along your leg. He hummed, his eyes downcast, watching as his own fingers slowly mapped out your leg.

You swallowed, heart in your throat. His touch was horrific.

His touch made you yearn and lust in turn. You wanted his touch against you all the time, wanted to feel his hand in yours. You wanted to be able to grab his hand and run your fingers over his. You wanted his fingers to travel over your leg, up and up and up; to push beneath your shorts, to press against your panties and claim your cunt as his.

Then, nightmarish, as if it had come out of your most horrid dreams, you felt warmth flood through you, felt your wetness trickle out of your cunt and stain your panties.

A moment, and then you realized, with great horror, that you could smell it. Your shorts did nothing to hide your smell, as baggy as they were. You could smell your cunt through your panties and shorts, and you, with your stomach churning and rising into your throat, knew that there was no way Seokmin wouldn't smell it.

His dark eyes glanced up to you.

Immediately you withdrew, pressing your hands against the edge of the tub. You moved your leg from his shoulder, refusing to look at him, heart hammering and twisting and you knew you would have to move out. You would have to move from your apartment, from your city. There was no way you could face your friends again, let alone Seokmin.

Fuck -- what about your parents? They knew Seokmin; they loved him. They always asked after him, always so openly adored him. What would they do when you told them you no longer could see Seokmin, when you told them that the reason was because you were stupidly horny for him, that your lust ruined years of friendship.

"I think I'll finish later," you murmured, still not looking at him. "Sorry."

Then Seokmin was throwing himself forward, knees clanging against the tub. He wound his arms around your waist, stilling your movement, keeping you on the edge of the tub.

Surprised, you looked down at him and met his eyes. They were impossibly round, like saucers. He held the universe in his eyes, and you wanted to drown in it. "Y/n," he began, his chest against your knees; you could feel him breathing against your legs. "Wait. I need to tell you something."

Your heart leapt and fell in the same second, as if you had jumped for joy and instead found the earth had disappeared beneath you. "Seok, really --"

"No!" He pouted, pressing himself closer. He peered up at you, incredibly sweet. "It's important."

You wet your lips. Then you settled your hands over his arms, squeezing gently. "Okay."

Seokmin took a deep breath, eyes fluttering shut. But then he looked you in the eye, flicking his head to keep his bangs from obscuring his view of you.

"I -- I'm a horrible person."

You blinked once; twice; thrice. "What?"

He let out a loud groan, the noise echoing aruond the bathroom. He burrowed forward, forcing your thighs apart and placing his face against your stomach. Instinctively you settled your hand on his head, fingers carding through his hair. "Seokmin, you're not a bad person --"

"I am," he insisted, sharp nose pressing against your tummy. "I'm horrible. I've been lying to you this entire time."

You grew alarmed, brows furrowing. You tugged on his hair, trying to get him to show his face, but he resisted, whining. "Seokmin, you've got to be more clear with me. I don't understand what you're saying, sweetheart."

He whined again. "I wanted to shave your legs!"

You tilted your head, confused. "I mean -- yeah? It's not like you ask to shave someone's legs without wanting to? Like, it's really an intimate activity, I reckon, so --"

Seokmin groaned. "Baby," he said, shifting so he could peer up at you. He was pouting still, and you couldn't help but move your hand from his hair to his face, cupping his cheek. "That's not what I meant."

"So say what you mean, Seok," you murmured. "I can't understand you if you beat around the bush. Just because we've been friends for years doesn't mean I can read your mind all the time."

Seokmin nodded, tangling his fingers in the fabric of your shirt. He pulled at it, twisted it. "I wanted to shave your legs because it gave me an excuse to be with you."

"Seok --"

"Wait," he rushed on, dark brown eyes pleading. "Don't -- let me just talk, okay? Even if you don't understand."

At your nod, he carried on. He kept one of his arms around you, the other still messing with your shirt. "I -- I wanted to shave your legs because I like doing things for you. Not because we're friends -- well, I mean, of course we're friends, but I don't do it just to be -- you know, friendly. I mean, I'd make soup for any friend who's sick, yeah. But do you think I'd get in the bathtub to shave their legs?

"Like -- I wanted to be close to you, I wanted to do something for you. I wanted to -- to touch you, Y/n. I -- I'm horrible like that," he added, voice softer. "I'm horrible because I -- I've been taking advantage of you. When you were sick I pretended I was your boyfriend taking care of you, and when you ask if I could bring you something at work I pretend that I'm your boyfriend doing little errands.

"And -- and when I asked to shave your legs, it was just because I wanted to touch you and touch your legs. And like yeah, I did want to help you with shaving but that's because I love spending time with you and being with you and helping you. I love helping you reach things, I love it when you let me hug you when we're around our friends, I love it when you let me do weird stuff like shaving your legs, and I --

"I'm in love with you," he finished, voice going quiet.

For a moment the two of you were still. Your hearts didn't beat, your minds went silent; you wouldn't be surprised if even your blood stopped flowing.

"Seok," you breathed, eyes wide. You trapped his face between your hands, held the entire universe between your two mortal hands. "Seok -- I've liked you ever since you drove through the rain to get me from my campus dorm during the beginning of spring break. I've been in love with you ever since you invited me to that little painting activity at Minghao's job."

Seokmin's eyes were wide. "That's -- that was so long ago --"

"Do you remember? Do you remember that you got paint on your nose, and I pointed it out? And you laughed, and that was it."

"That was it?" He echoed, reverent. "I felt so guilty after, Y/n. I had pretended it was a first date, that you had -- that we were on our first date."

You laughed softly, a calm sort of excitement coursing through you. It was odd, how keyed up and in tune to Seokmin you were; but at the same time you felt serene, as if you had finally found the last puzzle piece to something you had been working on for years, and you were about to put it in place and step back to admire it.

"I would've said yes," you said, hands shifting on his face. You brushed your fingers over the shell of his ear, just marveling in the feeling of his skin beneath your fingers. "If you had asked, then. I would've said yes. I never would've imagined you had liked me all that time ago."

Seokmin huffed a laugh, as if he was in disbelief. "For me it was when we went to that flower festival. Remember? It was me and you and Jeonghan and Joshie. And you had stopped to take a picture of the flowers -- they were yellow tulips -- and then you put your phone down and you just looked at them, as if they were the most gorgeous things in the universe, and I just couldn't look away from you.

"I still can't stop looking at you," he carried on, swallowing. "Ever since then I haven't been able to look away."

Your eyes stung, your heart sang. You sunk your fingers into his wavy dark hair, thumbing at the strands. "All this time?"

"Of course," he said, brows pinched at the center. "How could I not have been in love with you?"

You barked out a harsh laugh, taking your hand away from his hair. You pressed it against your eyes, trying to force your tears away. "Fuck. Fuck. All this time -- I thought you had wanted to move in with me because you didn't have a choice, because Josh had moved out."

He sighed, reaching up. Seokmin took your hand in his, squeezing gently. "Never. Living with you has been one adventure after another, Y/n. And each single one had the best endings because you were there."

"Seok." It was like his love was water and your heart was a cup, overflowing with it. "I'm in love with you."

He laughed, and then Seokmin rose to his knees fully. He unwound his arms from around you, cupping your cheeks between his large hands. You let him guide your head down, eyes fluttering shut before his lips even met yours.

Seokmin kissed you with confidence, any insecurities he must have felt having left him as soon as you affirmed your feelings for him. His mouth was insistent against you, kissing you as if this, too, was another way for him to show his adoration and love for you.

Your hands went to his shoulders, grabbing. You twisted the fabric of his tank top in your hands, nails scraping lightly against his tanned skin when his tongue skimmed along your lower lip.

He pulled back slightly. "I love you. You're so beautiful. I love you."

You used your grip on his shirt to guide him back to your mouth, tongue rolling into his mouth. Seokmin let you lead, let you slide your tongue against his, let you suck on his lower lip.

When the two of you parted both of you were breathing heavily, gasping for air. He pressed his nose against yours, bumping gently, the small action making your heart flutter.

Seokmin fell back to his knees, hands resting gently on top of your knees. He traced figures into your skin as he looked at you, dark eyes flickering over your face, memorizing you.

You couldn't help but just look at him back. His beautiful nose and lips, the beauty marks that decorated his face. His eyes, the way his bangs fell and covered his forehead. He was beautiful, even there, on the floor of the bathtub.

Seokmin sighed softly. He ducked his head, pressing a kiss to the kneecap of your unshaven leg. He ran his hand along your calf, uncaring of how the small hairs pricked at his fingers.

"I love you," you can't help but say, smiling down at him. "I love you, Seokmin."

He was quick to echo the sentiment, unwilling to let your words go without a response. Those three words were like a melody, and he refused to let it go without its harmony, refused to let them go unanswered.

Seokmin reached beside you, grabbing the can of shaving cream. His hands were large and long enough that they made the can seem small. "How much do I need?"

You settled your foot on his thigh, unreserved with your touch. "Just enough to fill your palm will be good."

The sound of the can spritzing out cream filled the air, and as soon as you saw just how much cream fit into his palm your eyes widened. His hands were large, of course, just like his feet and nose and - ahem, anyways. His hands were large, and filling his palm meant that he used a good amount of the shaving cream, more than you would need.

He laughed, swiping his finger through the cream. "It feels like a cloud."

"You wouldn't be able to actually feel a cloud," you murmured. "They're just made up of tons of little water drops. I think if you were to put your hand through it all that would happen is your hand would get damp."

Seokmin shot you a look. He rubbed the cream together then he began spreading it along your leg and knee. His touch was light, rubbing and massaging your leg, ensuring that every part was covered. "I didn't mean it literally. I know that I can't actually touch a cloud."

You hummed. "Well, first there's the problem of reaching it to consider."

"I'll eat tons of veggies and just grow super long legs," he logically explained. "Long enough that I can reach the clouds no problem."

"That brings two issues to the table, though." Seokmin turned on the bathtub faucet just enough to rinse off his hands, getting the shaving cream off. Once done he turned it off again, reaching for the razor. "First of all, how could we talk to each other if you're so tall so you could tell me what clouds feel like?"

Seokmin ducked his head, keeping an eye on his hand as he slid the razor against your leg, ankle to shin. "I'd take a walkie-talkie."

"Do walkie-talkies work so high up?"

Seokmin cocked his head, pausing. "Well. I could take a radio with me."

"Wait," you gasped, eyes wide. "We can just use our phones. I forgot that planes literally are at cloud level and you can call from planes. We're idiots."

"Idiots in love," Seokmin said, grinning widely, his eyes crinkling from the force of it.

You laughed. "Okay okay. Idiots in love, I suppose." Then you paused, furrowing your brows. "I just realized we totally confessed our love for one another, which we both had assumed was unrequited for at least four years, and you're back to shaving my legs."

Seokmin shrugged. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"I mean. It's sort of lackluster, isn't it? In the movies love confessions are usually met with, you know." You felt heat travel to your face, and you looked at your shampoo bottle across the tub.

"No, I don't know," Seokmin said, and you could hear the grin in his voice even if you couldn't see it. "You'll have to tell me, sweetheart."

You threw him a sharp look, ignoring how a smile of your own was growing. "You have to admit that shaving my legs after our confession is a little weird."

"I don't think it's weird," Seokmin said. "I'm not just shaving your legs. I'm shaving your legs with love."

"Funny," you said, voice dry, "I thought you were shaving them with shaving cream."

Seokmin snorted, a loud noise that had you immediately laughing, throwing your head back. He snorted again in between chuckles, leading to another bout of laughter that made you nearly slip from the edge of the bathtub, your grip on the ledge not as tight due to your laughter.

Immediately Seokmin was dropping the razor beside his leg, settling his large hands on your hips and steadying you. He was practically beaming at you, the sunshine on his face so bright that you could hardly stand to look at it for fear of going blind. You continued to look at him though, too caught in the radiance of Lee Seokmin to even think of looking away.

"Careful!" He chided you, hands squeezing. "Don't want my new girlfriend falling. Unless it's for me."

"Of course," you said, hands settling on his arms. "Naturally."

Seokmin hummed. He squeezed his hands around your waist once more, fingers playing with the flesh there, massaging it. "What was the other thing? You said you had two problems with me eating veggies."

"I didn't say that," you giggled, moving your hand up his arm and to his shoulder, slipping your fingers underneath the strap of his tanktop and pulling at it. "But, as I was saying, if you grow super long legs and go to touch the clouds, we won't be able to talk --"

"Which would suck."

"-- and," you continued, watching as you tugged at the strap, revealing more of his sun-kissed shoulder and collar, "we wouldn't be able to kiss."

He was quiet for a moment. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," you breathed, taking in his body, how sturdy he seemed before you, how strong he was. "You'd be too high up. Wouldn't be able to reach your mouth."

"Fuck," he exclaimed, and then Seokmin was pressing his mouth to yours once more.

You inhaled sharply, arms winding around his shoulders. He kissed passionately, quickly, mouth never still for more than a moment, intent on marking your lips as his. Seokmin's hand went from your hip, smoothing over the skin of your bare thigh, fingers pressing against where your shorts had ridden up, bunched at the crease of your thigh.

"Y/n," he spoke against your mouth in a mumbled rush, your name the prayer of the worshiper before you, "can I -- you don't have to do anything, I just wanna feel you, I wanna touch you. Please, Y/n, please."

You nodded against him. His mouth claimed yours once more, claimed your lips and your breath and tongue, all as his, as if he hadn't had claim over your entire being for years, even if he didn't know it.

Seokmin's hands went to your shorts, and then you were lifting off of the ledge of the tub just enough for him to pull your shorts down your legs. You watched, with half of your mind present, as it slid alongside your leg with the shaving cream still smoothed over it, creating a mess of your shorts.

Seokmin's own clothes were getting covered with shaving cream, but he showed no sign of caring. He pressed close, one hand tangling in the back of your shirt, rucking it up and baring part of your back, his other hand gripping your thigh, thumb pressing into the flesh of your inner thigh.

"Let me," he begged, nose bumping into your cheek, spit smearing over your mouth, "let me touch you. I wanna touch your cunt, wanna see it. Please? Know you have a cute little cunt, a pretty little pussy just like the rest of you."

"Seok," you exclaimed. Or you tried to; your lungs seemed to have no air, and every word left your lips breathy, without any weight. "Seok, I want -- want you."

His fingers brushed over your cunt through your underwear and it was as if you had been electrocuted. Seokmin's touch sent a shock through you, your legs widening and head tipping back, unable to do anything other than offer your body up for him to devour.

Seokmin traced your cunt with his thumb, mapping it out. Once his thumb found your clit he let out a small, shaky laugh. Seokmin ducked his head, thumb pressing down against your clit, massaging it.

"Seokmin," you gasped, brows furrowing. He pressed his fingers against your hole, keeping his thumb against your clit. Despite the fabric of your underwear acting as a barrier he pushed his fingers in, cunt sucking and clenching greedily.

"It's okay sweetheart," he murmured, capturing your lips with his once more. You could barely kiss him, your mind not on his lips but his fingers as they pressed into you, as his thumb rubbed at your clit.

"You're beautiful," Seokmin whispered, hand leaving your cunt. You whined, a pout immediately pulling at your lips. Seokmin laughed softly, fondly, pressing his mouth against yours and kissing your pout away.

His hands didn't leave your cunt. He pulled at your underwear, fingers slipping inside. Seokmin sighed against your mouth, fingers slowly, gently, pressing into your hole, dipping into your cunt. His thumb, meanwhile, returned to your clit; he didn't press against it like before, instead tracing around it, thumb barely brushing over your clit as he focused on the area around it.

Your mouth fell open, brows furrowed, feeling something sting at the corners of your eyes. Soft little moans left your mouth, hips canting up into his touch, just as greedy as Seokmin was for him to claim you.

Seokmin's mouth wandered from your face to your neck. He pressed lingering kisses to your skin, teeth pulling and mouth sucking. Your mind seemed to whirl, trying to focus on the sensations of his mouth while also on his hand.

You felt surrounded by Seokmin. You felt as if he was taking you whole, despite him only using his hands and mouth.

"You sound so beautiful, you know that?" He said, teeth skimming along the place where your shoulder and neck met. "You -- don't be mad at me. But when you'd touch yourself I could hear, sometimes, and you always sound so beautiful, so gorgeous and tempting and I can't help but listen."

You moaned, not even in the presence of mind to think seriously of Seokmin's words. You heard him talk about listening, about how he liked to hear you touch yourself, and you couldn't help but think of it. Of your dildo deep in your cunt, trying to muffle your moans but Seokmin hearing them anyways, pressed against your bedroom door, listening.

"You're so beautiful 'n gorgeous," he babbled on, mouth hot against your skin. His fingers plunged into your cunt, two slowly burying themself in, stretching you out. Your cunt accepted them greedily, hips chasing after his fingers, trying to force them in.

Seokmin pulled away, leaning his head against your arm. He stilled his fingers inside of you, though his thumb still traced figures around your clit. "Fuck, you're an angel. You're so eager for me, aren't you? You want me. You want me."

You whined, grabbing at him. Seokmin let you, tilting his head towards your wandering hands as you sunk your fingers into his hair. "'course," you mumbled, one of your hands moving to the shell of his ear, tracing it. "'course I want you. I need you, Seokmin, need you."

Seokmin turned his head towards your hands, pressing his lips against your fingers. "Don't worry, princess. You've got me. You got me."

He buried his fingers the rest of the way into your cunt, eyes carefully watching your face for discomfort. It burned, slightly. His fingers were thin but the two of them were a stretch, but you knew -- just from glancing down at the large bulge in his pants -- he'd need to fit another in for you to even think of taking him.

Seokmin pulled his hand from your hip, and then he was putting that hand, too, down to your cunt. He hooked his fingers in your panties, using his long digits to pull it aside. He moved his thumb from your clit, replacing it with the one that had been on your body. Then he began shifting the fingers that were in your cunt, a third poking at your hole, searching inside of you.

You tried to center your attention on his hands, on how his dark brow furrowed with concentration as he tried to find your core. But his thumb felt so good as he rubbed at your clit, grinding down on it and making you want to ride his hand, toes curling. And the stretch of his fingers as he slid the third finger in felt so good, burned just enough for it to feel right.

You wanted and yearned and lusted and thirsted, and he was giving it to you.

"Seok --"

"Can you cum like this, baby?" He asked, dark eyes flicking up to yours. "Can you cum on my fingers, princess? I bet you can. You're always so good for me, yeah? Always so good to me. I know you can cum, yeah?"

He adjusted his fingers towards your front, and you couldn't help but press your nails into his shoulders as his fingers brushed against your core. The squelching of your cunt seemed loud, and combined with the warmth that flooded through your body at Seokmin's touch the music -- which still played from your phone -- went greatly unnoticed.

A few well-aimed thrusts with his fingers towards your core, the thumb of his other hand grinding down on your clit in tandem, and you were orgasming around him. You couldn't help but drape your body over his, relying on Seokmin's strength to keep you from falling.

He continued fucking you with his fingers as you came, his beautiful voice flooding your ears and mind. All you could think was him and his touch, even as your nerves exploded and, eventually after some time, mended.

Seokmin had slid his hand from your cunt, no longer stimulating your clit, in favor of wrapping it around you. He held you, up on his knees, face pressed into your neck. He was talking when you felt your mind return to your body, his voice sweet and beautiful.

"-- so beautiful, you know that? Sometimes when you smile at me I think that I'll die right then and there. Especially when you like, look up from what you're doing and stop doing it just to smile at me. Makes me feel special, you know?"

You laughed breathlessly against him. Seokmin stiffened for a moment, and then he was giggling along with you. "You okay, sweetheart?"

You nodded, pulling back. You took him in; the way his eyes lingered on you, his tongue running over his lips.

He shifted, his fingers inside of you following his movement. You winced, fingers flinching against his shoulders. "Shit -- sorry, princess."

Seokmin slowly withdrew his hand from within you. Despite of it all, despite having came only minutes before, when his fingers dragged against your walls you couldn't help but clench around them, hips grinding down on him.

Seokmin glanced up at you, eyes wide. You felt heat rush to your face, but you didn't look away. "I -- sorry."

"Why?" He demanded, hand settling on your thigh. "Can you -- do you think you can do it again?"

Your cunt clenched. You nodded, and Seokmin grinned blindingly. He stood tall above you, and for a moment your gaze lingered on the way his tank top hung from his torso, how his own shorts were bunched around his thighs and his dick was visible through them, large and long.

But then your eyes caught sight of the shaving cream stuck to his clothes. You glanced down your own body, and sure enough your shorts and legs were covered in shaving cream, made a mess by your impatient bodies.

You began giggling, leaning down and swiping your fingers through the shaving cream. You flicked it at Seokmin, the cream plopping against his shirt. "Before we go anywhere we need to leave our clothes in here. They're absolutely covered in shaving cream."

Seokmin giggled along, tangling with your own laughter and making it a melody. Then his hands were at the hem of his tank top, pulling, and all laughter ceased from you, eyes locked on him.

You watched, perhaps far too eagerly, as he lifted up his top. Your eyes were stuck on his figure, drinking in every single millimeter of sun-kissed skin he revealed. Seokmin was all lean angles, his stomach firm and shoulders broad, though his chest was soft.

"Stop looking at me like that," he laughed, flinging his tank top to his feet.

"And how am I looking at you, Seok?"

His fingers hooked into the waistband of his shorts. Seokmin's ears were flushed with color, trying to hide the smirk that was slowly overtaking him from how he enjoyed the weight of your eyes on his body. "You're looking at me like I'm something you wanna eat."

"Hm," you hummed, eyes on his hips. He had wide hips, and when he began pulling down his shorts, revealing skin slightly paler than his arms, you couldn't help but suck in your lip in appreciation. "Wonder why I'd look at you like that, Seok."

His pants dropped to the floor of the bathtub, leaving Seokmin just in his black boxer briefs. They did nothing to hide the shape of his dick, and when he turned to drop and grab the razor he abandoned, putting it safely on the ledge of the tub, your eyes flicked down to his ass, appreciative.

Seokmin's eyes darted up to yours. Then he let out a surprised noise, hand reaching out and slapping your knee. "Stop looking at me like that!"

You laughed loudly, reaching for him. You looped your arms around his thighs, bringing him close. He let out a low, strangled sound as you pressed your face against his thigh, lips kissing the fabric of his boxer briefs. "Come on, Seokmin. Give me a break. You just said that you've been listening to me masturbate but I can't look at you and appreciate you?"

He huffed, hands coming to rest in your hair. Seokmin guided your head back, and you tried to ignore the large shape of his dick and how it grazed against your cheek.

"Fuck," he whispered, "you look beautiful like this."

You let out a breath of laughter, ducking your head and burying your face against his thigh again. And then you were pushing him back, rising from the edge of the bathtub.

Seokmin watched, just as greedily as you had, as you hooked your hands into the waistband of your shorts. You pushed them down, ignoring how they fell through the shaving cream still on your legs. You grabbed them, and, still bent, you began wiping at the rest of the remaining shaving cream.

"Wait." Seokmin's hands went to your shoulders, and then he was pushing you back up. He took your shorts before crouching down, his knees popping. Seokmin began wiping at your legs, your little dark leg hairs reemerging, triumphant at surviving another day without being shaved.

You tangled one of your hands in his hair, playing with the long strands. "Gosh, Seokie. You're gonna make me start to think that you like being on your knees."

He stopped, eyes wide as he looked up at you.

You laughed, your free hand going to cup his cheek. "You do. You like being on your knees for me, don't you?"

Seokmin huffed, tossing your shorts to join his discarded clothes. "Already said I like helping you."

You cooed, pinching his cheek. Then you withdrew, stepping out of the tub. You looked down at your shirt and gasped, pulling at it. "Oh no!"

Seokmin was at the edge of the tub in an instant, reaching for you. "What is it?"

"I've got shaving cream on my shirt, too," you said, despite there not being a single ounce of cream anywhere on your shirt. "I'll have to leave it in here, too, I guess."

Then you were tugging it up and off, throwing it into the bathtub. Seokmin's eyes were froze on your chest, drinking you in. The curve of your breasts, the line of your shoulders. The shape of your throat, the bend of your stomach.

You grabbed your phone, finally stopping the music -- You Found Me by the Fray. You pretended to frown, looking down at your phone screen. "Oh no, I've got a text from Jeonghan --"

"Like hell you do!" Seokmin said, jumping from the tub. He grabbed your phone, placing it on the counter. Then his hands were on your hips, pushing you from the bathroom and down the hall, ignoring the sound of your laughter as he directed you.

He lifted you up and threw you onto his bed, grinning as you laughed at his eagerness. You crawled up to the head of his bed, excitement shooting through you as you felt the bed dip from his weight.

Seokmin's hands went to your waist, and then he was flipping you over. He went to his knees between your legs, large hands going to your thighs and spreading them, letting him press closer. His dark eyes drank you in, as if you were a masterpiece hanging at the Met and not his friend and roommate and maybe-lover laying on his bed.

"You're perfect," Seokmin informed you, hands smoothing up your thighs. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, raising his eyebrows in question. You lifted your lower half in answer, helping him guide your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

Seokmin threw them down the bed, paying no attention to where they fell. His hands went back to your legs, running over both your freshly shaven leg and your hairy one all the same.

It was ridiculous, you thought, how his lack of preference sent a rush of warmth through you and wetness to your cunt.

His hands finished his journey at the apex of your thighs, thumbs pressing against the soft insides. Seokmin pushed them apart, baring your cunt, his eyes immediately transfixed on your pussy.

"Seokmin," you whined, squirming. "Stop staring at it like that."

He exhaled, biting down on his lip. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your cunt. "How about -- listen. I need to eat you out."

You sighed, throwing your head back against the pillows. They smelled like him, and coupled with his warm body against you, you felt surrounded by Seokmin. But you wanted more, you wanted his body actually on you, wanted to feel his weight covering you. "Seokmin, I want to feel you inside --"

"You will!" He interrupted, already lowering himself to the bed. He was golden, from his skin to his smile, gentle and reassuring. "I'll fuck you, princess, don't worry. I just want to taste you. Your cunt's so pretty, baby, I can't help it."

Then he was pressing his face down against your pussy, inhaling deeply as if you were a thousand-dollar bottle of perfume and not you, as if he was surrounded by flowers and not the smell of your pussy.

"You even smell good," he murmured, nose pressing against your mound. "Fuck. I knew you would, baby. I knew you'd smell good. Always smell so good, of course your pussy would smell pretty too."

"Seokmin," you whined, embarrassed. "Stop."

He breathed against your cunt once more, eyes fluttering. You were so embarrassed. It was your pussy he was smelling! Not some flower!

But Seokmin pressed his fingers to your cunt, spreading your lips apart. He groaned a little in appreciation. "Looks so good, baby."

You began to whine out his name again but the press of his fingers into your hole had you moaning, clenching around him. Three of his fingers worked into your hole, quicker than earlier do to you already being stretched. You couldn't help but groan all the same, eyes squeezing shut and toes curling, his fingers filling you so deliciously.

"Perfect," he mumbled. Then Seokmin was pressing his mouth to your clit, tongue lapping against it.

You let out a strangled noise, legs reflexively kicking out. Seokmin shifted, using his free arm to press you back down. "Careful, sweetheart."

Then he was licking back over your cunt, the sound of his mouth against your pussy lewd, making heat rush to your face and more of your pussy juices to flood out of you. He groaned, as if he was eating a first class meal instead of your cunt.

Seokmin worked his fingers in you slowly, rocking them back and forth, brushing the pads of his digits over your core. He was more focused on licking your pussy, his tongue running along his fingers and collecting your slick before returning back up to your clit.

He didn't eat you passionately, per say; though he was certainly eager. Seokmin ran his tongue along every inch of your cunt, exploring your crevices and folds, gathering your juices and returning to your clit to orbit it with his tongue, taunting you.

"Seok," you whined, face furrowed in a combination of arousal and irritation. "Please."

He hummed. Seokmin pressed his nose against your clit, tongue dipping into your hole as he slurped against you. When he spoke it was muffled, though he didn't care to take his face from your cunt -- from, as far as he was concerned, heaven. "Gotta use your words."

You moaned, legs kicking out. Seokmin pulled away, brow furrowed. His face was smeared with your juices, nose and cheeks and mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. He kept his fingers in you, though he stopped rocking them in your cunt. "Come on, baby. You always tell me to use my words, that we have to communicate if we want to have a good relationship."

You wanted to reach out and hit him. You had been talking about your relationship as roommates, talking about whose turn it was to take down the trash or get the mail. Not about him eating your cunt, not about his fingers wedged into your pussy down to the innermost knuckle.

"Seok," you whimpered, mouth pouting. "Seok, please."

"Say it, princess." He shifted his hand, using his free arm to press into the bed beside you, allowing Seokmin to hover over you. He lowered his face, breath warm against your mouth. "Gotta say it for me, baby. Please?"

You let out a small sob, looking up at him with wet eyes. "Please, Seokmin. I wanna cum, please."

He let out a little giggle, delighted. Seokmin bent down, pressing his mouth to yours, kissing your pout away. You couldn't help but gasp into it, the taste of your pussy on his lips.

"Good girl," he murmured before pressing one last kiss to your lips. Seokmin then made his way back down to your cunt, trailing kisses along your skin. Goosebumps rose on your arms as his mouth skimmed over your body, his lips pressing a fleeting kiss to each of your breasts, hand kneading at your hip.

Seokmin attached his mouth back to your clit, lips wrapping around the little bundle. He sucked at it, the sensation making your body jerk beneath him.

His fingers searched within you for a moment before he found your core once more. Seokmin began thrusting his fingers against it with precision, the sensation coupled with his tongue laving against your clit, sucking and licking and slurping, making you cry out, arching up from the bed.

"Seokmin," you cried, fingers fisting the blankets. Your legs tightened around him, Seokmin letting out a muffled moan as you squeezed him. You could feel it rising inside of you, like the wave of a tsunami; climbing and ascending, toes curling and body restless.

Finally the wave crashed against the beach and you came, orgasming around his fingers. You sobbed, mind going blank and heart so loud you could hear it roaring in your ears. Seokmin fucked his fingers into you continuously, unrelenting, ignoring your orgasming body.

You cried out his name, tears stinging at your eyes before they fell, sliding down your cheeks. Your body was electric, buzzing and filled with energy. Seokmin was doing anything other than soothe it, instead his mouth and fingers steadily working together to create more and more of it, thrusting you back up atop of that tsunami wave once more.

You kicked your foot out against him as you came down from your third orgasm of the day, his name leaving your lips in a loud whine. Seokmin finally pulled away, relenting; he gently eased his fingers from your cunt, pressed one last kiss to your cunt.

He laid his body on top of yours, a steady, grounding weight. He cooed at you, his large hand rising to your face and brushing away your tears. "It's okay, baby. It's okay. I got you, Seokmin's got you."

You grabbed at him, hands restless against his body. Seokmin pressed quick kisses to your face. "You did so well for me, princess. Did such a good job taking it."

You sniffled, and Seokmin tucked his head against your neck, muffling his laugh. "Don't laugh at me," you whined, hand weakly slapping his side. "You're mean."

Seokmin turned his head towards you, eyes sparkling fondly. "I'm not," he argued, though not convincingly. "Are you okay?"

You nodded, grabbing his hand. Seokmin laced your fingers together, thumb gently swiping over your skin. His fingers were thin and knobbly against yours, and you couldn't help but fixate on a little mole on one of his fingers.

"'m okay," you answered softly. "Just need a minute."

Seokmin hummed, pressing a kiss to your neck. He tucked his head back against you and, ignoring the situation, ignoring the press of his hard dick against your body and the stickiness coating your thighs, he began softly singing.

You brought his hand to your mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of it. His eyes sparkled as he watched you, the very picture of love. You couldn't help but smile back at him, content. "Hi."

He laughed softly. He then moved against your body, hands pressed to either side of you on the bed. Seokmin kissed your cheeks, his mouth trailing the path of your tears. "Can't believe you cried. Guess I'm just so good at eating you out that you couldn't help it."

You rolled your eyes, squeezing his hand in yours. "Whatever, Seok."

"Don't worry," he said, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You look very beautiful when you cry."

Seokmin then moved to the side, his body leaving yours. You shivered against the cold of the room, goosebumps rising, nipples pebbling. You watched, eyes taking in his long, lean body as he reached to the bedside table, pulling open the drawer.

He left the bed after retrieving what he was looking for. You watched, mouth watering, as he pushed down his boxer briefs. His cock sprang out, slapping against his stomach. Just as you had thought, his dick was huge. It was long and thick, and after a few strokes that had Seokmin hissing, a fat lob of precum leaked from the tip and onto the floor.

"I'll clean it later," he said, shoving his boxer briefs the rest of the way down. Seokmin released his cock to pull open the condom package. He began sliding it on, hand aruond his dick once more, but then stopped.

You glanced at him, raising your eyebrows. He whined, ears turning red. "Can you -- you know, look away?"

Bewildered, you propped yourself up. "What on earth do you mean?"

He whined again, pouting, his puppy-dog eyes begging. "It's weird when you watch me put it on."

Your mouth fell open. "Seokmin. You sound absolutely ridiculous. You're going to putting it in me and you're getting anxiety over me watching you put on a condom?"

Seokmin shot you a pitiful look. "Please? It's super weird.”

You sighed, but closed your eyes. Half a moment later he’s hopping back on the bed, making your eyes fly open. 

Seokmin is grinning down at you, as if he hadn’t spent the past hour fucking you, as if you weren’t about to continue said fucking. It made your heart flutter and skip, and you felt like a lovesick fool when you smiled back at him. 

Seokmin dropped a kiss on your forehead, and then he was kneeling back down between your legs. He placed his hands on your legs, squeezing gently. “You okay to keep going?”

You rolled your eyes. “Seok. You just made me look away so you could roll on a condom. Of course I’m okay to keep going, and as a matter of fact, I’d encourage it.”

He giggled, a boyishly cute thing that had heat flooding to your face. Seokmin then looped his arms underneath your thighs, and, slowly, as to not cause any unnecessary strain, he began pushing them up. 

“Tell me if you want to stop at any time,” he murmured, eyes meeting yours. “We can stop whenever you want. Just tell me, okay, princess?”

You nodded, humming. Your thighs were pressed against your chest, kept in place by the press of his body. “You too, Seok. If you want to stop just let me know.”

He huffed, rolling his eyes fondly and with a little grin. “As if. Been dreaming of this for years.”

“No more lurking outside my bedroom door when I fuck myself,” you said, raising your arms and tangling your hands in your own hair, pulling gently. Seokmin kept one arm wrapped around your thigh, keeping it pressed to your chest. His other hand went down to his cock and you couldn’t help but adjust yourself so you could watch as his large hand jerked his cock, the tip of it so close to your cunt. 

“No more listening while you fuck yourself,” he agreed. Seokmin moved closer, and you couldn’t help but clench in anticipation. “Relax, princess. Gotta be relaxed for me.”

You let out a deep breath, letting your head fall back to his pillows. “Well. You could keep listening, if you wanted. Could wait outside my door, listen to me fuck myself on my dildo. Wait until I’m crying and whining for you, then barge in and take over and show me how I should really be fucked.”

Seokmin let out a breath; the tip of his dick pressed against your cunt. “How do you deserve to be fucked, then?”

You hummed. Slowly Seokmin began to guide his dick inside of you. Immediately you felt the stretch; he was big. His dick felt huge inside of you, as if it was splitting you in two. 

You wanted it all. 

“Fuck me,” you whispered, biting down on your lip. For a moment you couldn’t think, distracted by the feeling of his dick in you, pressing deeper and deeper and deeper, forcing your walls to give around him and filling you. “Should be fucked like -- like ‘m precious or something.”

Seokmin hummed. The burn of his dick spreading you out slowly began to fade, and while it still persisted instead of being painful it felt delicious, a good sort of burn that made you want to buck up and force him in deeper, to take him. 

“You are precious,” he said. Seokmin took his hand off of his dick, satisfied that it didn’t need his guidance to fit the rest of the way inside of you. He looped his arm around your other thigh, and, in once quick, sharp movement, impaled his dick the rest of the way inside of you. 

You let out a strangled groan, arching up into him. Seokmin was flush against you, your ass against his thighs, his face next to yours. He reached and grabbed at your arms. You brought your hands down and he grabbed them, tangling his fingers in yours and pressing them against the bed. 

“Feel so good,” he mumbled, voice low. “Feel so good wrapped around my dick, squeezing it. You’re so good, princess. Feel so tight and warm.”

You sighed, squeezing around him. Seokmin squeezed your hands in return. Slowly he began to slide out, the feel of his dick against your walls making your toes curl and mouth fall open. It felt delicious and wonderful, and when he thrusted back into you you couldn’t help but let out a loud moan. 

Seokmin reangled himself, and on the next deep thrust he was hitting your core. Your cunt clenched around him, dragging out a loud, deep moan from his mouth that had your toes curling once more. 

He began fucking you slow and deep, each roll of his hips satisfying. Seokmin’s dick was splitting you in half, and even though he was trying to be gentle the burn persisted. 

“Perfect,” he mumbled, pressing a sloppy kiss to your neck. Seokmin panted against your skin, the sound loud in your years and coupled with the sound of his thighs slapping against your ass, the squelching of his dick inside of you. “Sound so fucking perfect, feel so fucking perfect. You’re so good for me, baby, so good and sweet.”

You couldn’t help but whine at his words. Seokmin was a talker, and sex was no different. Even as he thrusted deep and took your breath away, he continued talking, sin practically pouring from his mouth. 

“Feel so tight around me,” he mumbled, moaning around his words. “Pretty little cunt so good. Sounds so good and sweet, wanna -- wanna keep fucking you, don’t ever wanna stop. Gonna make you cream around me, gonna fucking -- gonna fill you up, princess. Gonna fuck you until you’re crying, gonna fuck you until you can’t fucking take it --”

The tsunami grew once more, rising over your head. Seokmin bit at your throat and then you were orgasming, the crash of the wave loud in your ears. Just like before he continued fucking you, his thrusts unrelenting, his pace unwavering. 

“Sound so fucking beautiful,” he whined, dropping his head into your neck. “God! Sound so fucking pretty crying for me, princess. Sound beautiful, look beautiful. Look so beautiful creaming around my dick, crying like that. My dick make you feel good? Tell me, baby; tell me it makes you feel good.”

You sobbed, and you knew, despite his words, you probably looked absolutely horrible, tear tracks down your face and mouth parted wide. “Feels good! Feel good, Seokmin, feels so fucking good!”

He moaned, pace stuttering. For a moment Seokmin was still and, foolishly, you thought that was the end of it. 

Then Seokmin was releasing his grip on your hands entirely, leaving them bare and cold. He raised his torso off of you, sweat glistening. Seokmin’s hands went underneath your knees and then he was pressing them further up, not stopping until your knees were at your shoulders. 

“Seok --” You let out a strangled cry as he thrusted sharply into you, unable to form any coherent thought. “Seokmin --”

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned, voice deep and dark and making your cunt clench around his dick. 

Seokmin’s hands went to your hips, keeping them up. He began -- for a lack of a better word -- fucking you. Each drive of his cock inside of you had his balls and hips slapping against your ass, stinging; your cunt frantically clenched and quivered around him, each squeeze drawing a loud moan out of his mouth. 

“Good pussy,” he praised, breathless. He was beautiful above you, bangs pressed to his forehead, brow furrowed in concentration as he chased and chased his own climax, desperation taking over him. “Such a good fucking pussy, such a good cunt for me.”

Another orgasm crashed down on you, the sound of your sobs and cries loud in your own ears. Your nerves were on fire and the orgasm, the waves, weren’t putting them out. Instead they were inflaming them, every inch of your body quivering and sweating. 

You don’t remember when he came, nor did you remember him pulling out. You were somewhere else, where time didn’t exist, where nothing outside of Seokmin and his dick drilling you existed. It was all Lee Seokmin, all him. 

When you returned, you were wrapped in his arms. He had one hand tangled in your hair, keeping your face pressed against his neck. Seokmin’s other arm was around your back, keeping your naked body flushed with his own. He had you against the pillows, having made a warm barrier against your back to keep you from feeling cold and barren. 

Predictably, you were smelly, sweaty, and sore. Your cunt ached and thighs burned, though neither were particularly unpleasant. Instead you couldn’t help but feel satisfied, gleeful at the thought of the bruises that would litter your body from Seokmin fucking you, visible marks of him. 

Seokmin pulled away a little, having felt you shift. His hand moved from your hair, cradling your cheek. He smiled down at you, so bright that you couldn’t help but close your eyes, groaning and pressing yourself back against him. 

Seokmin laughed, arms wrapping around you. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, nose sharp as he nuzzled against your hair. 

“I love you,” he said, voice sweet and fond and filled with adoration. “I love you, Y/n. You’re so amazing.”

You huffed. “Oh, so I’m amazing after we had sex?”

Seokmin gently pulled at your hair, reprimanding. “No twisting my words when we’re cuddling after making love, sweetheart.”

You grinned against his skin. You were surrounded by him and his smell, the musk of his body and the faint notes of his cologne. You were warm all around, from your heart to your fingers and toes. “Oh? So that was making love, was it? Fucking me like some animal?”

“Wasn’t it?”

You hummed, and then shook your head. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Is there a difference?” He asked, his hand returning to your hair. His fingers scratched lightly at your scalp, making your eyes flutter. “Between how we -- you know. How we did it and making love?”

You laughed, shifting. All you could see was golden skin and you couldn’t help but think it made sense. His golden skin and smile, the golden shimmer that surely surrounded this moment, you pressed against him, love tattooed on your bodies. “How we did it? You fucked me like an absolute animal, Lee Seokmin, and you can’t even say that we had sex?”

Seokmin whined, hand tugging at your hair. “Don’t make fun of me! You’re so mean. We just confessed our deep-rooted love for one another, made -- made --- made love, and now you’re bullying me! Stop laughing at me!”

Your laughter grew. Seokmin huffed, pushing away from you. You giggled as he crossed his arms over his chest, pouting down at you. “I can’t believe you! Taking advantage of little vulnerable me!”

You reached out, tugging at his hand, still grinning widely. “Sorry -- I’m sorry, Seok.”

“You’re still laughing!” He accused you, eyes wide as he slapped your hand away. “I don’t believe you’re sorry at all! You’re sitting there, laughing at me, while I’m here being all vulnerable! It’s inhumane!”

You couldn’t help but let out another bark of laughter. “That’s not what inhumane means, Seok.”

“See!”

Giggling, you rose to your elbows. Seokmin watched warily as you moved closer, lips pressed in a pout. He looked cute, arms crossed over his chest, pouting down at you with his big doe eyes. 

But you couldn’t help but notice how his arms crossed brought attention to his chest, how his pecs pressed out. You couldn’t help but let your gaze fall over his bulging biceps, over his stomach; over his cock, still flaccid, still large and impressive and delicious. 

Keeping your eyes on his dick, you moved to your knees. “I’m sure I can make it up to you, baby.”

SCOUPS Brisant

JEONGHAN ✯ 240908 Cheers to Youth

jeonghan, don't go 😢

❤️‍🔥

nice boys don’t kiss like that.

summary: when your former rival chances upon your diary and reads all the unpleasant things you’ve written about him, he takes it upon himself to change your mind.

pairing: kim mingyu x fem!reader genres: fluff, suggestive; rivals to lovers, developing relationship word count: 3.3k

warnings: profanity, making out, suggestive innuendos & jokes, i would probably rate this 16+ author’s note: this fic is inspired by this scene from bridget jones’s diary. thanks for reading!

It is on a twilit Saturday evening, at precisely 7:01 P.M, that Kim Mingyu is accosted by a notebook for the first time in his life.

He lets out a startled grunt and finds himself with an armful of things—a denim jacket, a crumpled grocery shopping list, an empty box of Tic Tacs, a woollen beanie with a questionable brown stain he thinks is ketchup; all presumably from whatever depths of your drawer he can see you hunched over, searching for something that remains stubbornly elusive. The offensive projectile whizzes past his shoulder and lands on the polished wooden floor with a thud.

Mingyu stands at the doorway to your bedroom, having bypassed the living room and hallway that leads to the kitchen in favour of pressing heated kisses to your cheeks and collarbones. He watches you, bemused. A few weeks ago, he might’ve laughed at your frazzled state with derision. Now, he still wants to laugh, but more in an affectionate way.

You turn around swiftly, nearly tripping on a stray stocking on the floor, and he bites back a smile when you mumble a string of curse words under your breath. 

“Hi,” you say, chest heaving. “I’m really sorry.”

Then you slam the door shut on his face.

Well, Mingyu thinks. This is the first time a girl’s closed the door when I’m in her apartment.

Faced with nothing else to do except wait for your arrival, he drops the Tic Tac box on the floor, hangs your jacket and beanie on the back of the sofa, and almost stubs his toe on the corner of the notebook.

Wincing at the close call, Mingyu glares at the book like it’s the cause of all his troubles. DIARY, it reads, embossed in ornate gold letters. The cover is a rich shade of red, rough and leather-bound. He picks it up; it’s rather heavy, and judging by the frayed corners and the random bits of paper poking out of the sides, it seems to be quite old too. Regardless, it is well-cherished—he knows this because he knows you, and you’re the kind of person who wears your heart on your sleeve.

Which is why he knows opening it is a bad idea. 

Mingyu shrugs and places the book on the coffee table, taking a seat on the plush, olive green sofa opposite it. He leans his elbows on his knees and interlaces his fingers under his chin. From the inside of your room, he can hear muffled screaming—should he be worried? The screaming stops. Mingyu lets his tense shoulders relax.

His eyes zero in on your diary once more. He shouldn’t open it—he really, really shouldn’t. It would be a horrible breach of your privacy. Your trust in him would be broken forever, and even if he somehow manages to win it back, it will always be a stain in the fabric of your still-developing relationship.

But.

One tiny peek can’t hurt, right? He’s only waiting for you to come out of your room, after all. Just one little look, and then he’ll close the book immediately. It can’t possibly hurt. Curiosity is both a blessing and a vice, he figures, and since he’s already stacked up on vices, there is no harm in adding to his karmic points.

So he picks up your diary and flips to a random page, freezing momentarily when he hears an irritated grunt and the sound of something hitting the floor from inside your room. Your handwriting is a lot messier than it usually is; you probably save your best penmanship for official things, and your personal diary is not one of them. That, or you were just frustrated.

12th June

I fucking hate Kim Mingyu. I hope I never have to see him and his stupid handsome obnoxious face EVER AGAIN. I’m so DONE with him.

Mingyu’s cheeks prickle with heat. He’s thoroughly invested now. He turns to another page.

14th June

Ran into KMG again today. He spilled coffee all over me what else is new but. he actually apologised!!! Crazy. Maybe he was just in a good mood. Either way, my new blouse is ruined so fuck him.

The strangest thing is that Mingyu actually remembers that day vividly. You were wearing a gorgeous cream-coloured blouse, and he was so caught up in staring at you talking animatedly with your supervisor that he zoned out completely and accidentally spilled his coffee on you because he tripped over his shoelaces. Now, knowing that your blouse was new at the time brings up a slight twinge of guilt. He’ll ask you about it later.

22nd June

KMG is actually…… kinda nice? He supported me in the meeting today with the clients when they were being so tiresome. He has a nice smile I guess.

Mingyu smiles widely. 

23rd June

Nevermind. I take back everything I said. Kim Mingyu is a prat with zero social skills. I mean, would it kill him to say hello back??? I get that he’s busy but i thought we’d made progress. One thing is for sure. Kim Mingyu is NOT nice. Not even a little bit.

His smile falters.

The next page contains a similar anecdote—something about how he always vehemently disagrees with everything you say, and how despite his good looks he was a complete and utter asshole. Further investigation reveals the same thing: you hate Kim Mingyu with a burning passion.

And… Well, he couldn’t lie and say the feeling wasn’t mutual at one point in time—but it has mellowed down since then, gently and slowly, like a fallen leaf being carried by a soft wind. There came a day where Mingyu found himself glaring at you, not with disdain in his eyes, but with a steady thrum in his chest where his heart lay. Later, he would realise that he didn’t hate you—not even a little bit.

He assumed you felt the same way. Why else would your smirks, so full of malice, melt into grins that could light up a whole town? Why else would you agree to go on a date with him when he asked you out, one day, after work, tripping over his words like an elementary schoolboy? Why else would you invite him home and ask him to spend the night?

Of course, it doesn’t explain why you’ve locked yourself up in your bedroom currently (frankly, he’s a bit befuddled about that). But the sentiment must still be there.

It’s a diary, he reasons. 

It’s your diary, his brain screams back, and that’s the real issue here, isn’t it?

Diaries are full of crap, anyway, he thinks to himself.

Diaries contain the Real Thoughts And Emotions of a human being, his brain hollers back.

Mind swirling, Mingyu closes the book and places it back on the coffee table, barely aware of his movements. Have you been lying to him? No, there’s absolutely no way—he trusts you far more than that, and besides, what would you even lie to him about? There are no benefits to stringing him along, and you’re not the kind of person who would do something like that, anyway.

You must have had a change of heart, then. That’s the only conclusion he can think of. Your diary entries come to a standstill after 27th June, which means you haven’t opened it in a while. It’s also around the same time you stopped picking fights with each other. Something must have changed by then; Mingyu is glad it did.

Satisfied with his deduction, Mingyu stuffs his hands in his pockets and crosses his ankles together. Behind your bedroom door, you remain suspiciously silent. He considers knocking on the door once to make sure you’re okay—or if you need any help, because staying put inside your room for over twenty minutes is certainly not normal when you have a guest and potential boyfriend over. 

Almost as if you’ve heard his thoughts, the door to your room swings open. You stand at the doorway, breathing heavily.

“Hey,” Mingyu says, quickly standing up. “Everything good?”

You beam at him. “Perfect. Sorry to have kept you waiting, I—”

Your gaze drops to the coffee table, landing on your diary. Mingyu keeps his gaze fixed on you. You look back at him, lips parted. 

“Um,” you begin. “It’s— It’s just a diary.”

“Clearly.” Mingyu fights back a smile.

You chew your bottom lip nervously. “Did you read it?”

“I did,” he confirms, nodding. “I’m sorry. I was just curious—”

You groan, lifting your hands and covering your face with your palms. “Fuck.”

Mingyu reaches out and encircles your wrists with his fingers, gently tugging your hands away from your face. He finds it oddly endearing. “It’s only a diary. I’m sorry I read it. I shouldn’t have.”

“I don’t care about that. You… you probably read all the horrible, mean things I wrote about you.”

“Well,” he says, shrugging a little, “some of the entries were definitely… interesting.”

You blink. Unable to help himself, Mingyu drops a light kiss to the tip of your nose.

“I don’t hate you, you know,” you tell him.

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious.”

“Mhm.”

“Mingyu.”

“I’ll tell you what I think about your diary later, ‘kay?” he says, hooking his pinkie finger with yours. “Come with me.”

“What? Where?” Confusion paints your features.

Mingyu huffs out a laugh. “Just trust me.”

Mingyu places the brand-new diary he’d bought for you on the dining table with a flourish. “D’you have a pen?”

You eye him suspiciously, gaze darting between him and the new, dark green notebook on the table. He grins, carefree and indulgent. Still wary, you hand him a blue ballpoint pen from the pen stand placed above the drawers to the left. He hums and uncaps it.

Flipping open the book to the first page, he bends down and writes slowly.

This book belongs to Kim Mingyu and

Mingyu stops writing and holds the pen out expectantly to you. “Here. Write your name.”

Confused, but curious, you oblige. Your name, written in your handwriting, next to his own semi-legible scrawl, makes a warm, affectionate feeling bubble up inside his chest. He wonders what it would look like when both your names are signed next to each other on a marriage certificate. Then, he wonders when and where your wedding would take place. A summer wedding sounds nice, but the sweltering heat might be a bit of a problem. Winter weddings are beautiful for sure, but neither of you is a big fan of the cold.

He’s in the process of thinking of names for your children and pet dog when you break him out of his daze. 

“Hey. What’s all this about, hm?” You nudge his shoulder lightly with yours.

Mingyu says, “It’s a diary, but for both of us.”

You glance at him, eyebrows raised questioningly. He swings an arm over your shoulder and draws you closer to him, smiling when flyaway strands of your hair tickle his cheek. 

“In your old diary, it was pretty obvious you, uh, didn’t like me much,” he explains, holding up his free hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I don’t blame you. We were assholes to each other most of the time. But we’ve moved past that. At least, I hope we have.”

Your reply is instantaneous. “Of course. Of course, we have.”

Mingyu trails his fingers absent-mindedly over your arm. “Right. And… It’s kind of silly, I guess—I don’t know—but I thought—if we kept a new diary together, one that we could use to document our journey, with both our perspectives in the same place—I thought it would be nice.”

Your mouth parts and you look at him, an indiscernible expression on your face. He shifts from one foot to the other, feeling suddenly nervous. You don’t betray any hint of emotion on your face, but Mingyu’s heart hammers inside his chest. What if you think he’s being silly and overly sentimental? What if you find the idea ridiculous?

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he quickly backtracks. “I know we’ve only just moved past the idea of being more than friends, but—” He stops himself.

“But…?” you gently prompt him, twisting around to see him better.

Mingyu swallows. “But I can’t imagine not being with you.”

He hears your sharp intake of breath, and in the next moment, the breath is knocked out of his lungs when you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a tight, rib-squeezing hug.  Automatically, his arms circle your waist, and he presses a light, barely-there kiss to the junction of your neck and jaw. 

Eyes shining happily, you pull back slightly with a wide grin on your face. “You’re so hopelessly romantic, it makes my chest hurt.”

“Consider this your trial run. If you don’t like it, I’ll stop.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He sighs, content. “Okay, I won’t.”

“What should our first diary entry be about?” you ask, loosening your hold on him.

“About how you ditched me inside your house for almost half an hour after you invited me over.” He’s only half-joking.

You look away, embarrassed and sheepish. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.”

“I’m being serious, Mingyu.”

“So you’ve said,” he agrees breezily.

“Actually,” you begin, a tad shy, “I was thinking it could be about this—about how you bought us a diary and then kissed me in front of the dining table after we christened the book.”

Mingyu’s eyes widen, but before he can get a word in edgewise, your lips are already centimetres away from his. “May I?” you whisper.

“Yeah. ‘Course,” he murmurs back.

The kiss makes him feel dizzy, like he’s had one too many bottles of soda—fizzy and light-headed. Your lips are soft, mouth warm; you taste like chocolate, and he licks into your mouth desperately. His fingers dig into your waist, bunching up the material of your t-shirt, and you run your hand through his hair, tugging gently. He’s kissed you before, of course, but something about this time feels important, a core memory sort of thing. Later that night, he’ll sit beside you on your bed and watch as you write in your shared diary, and he’ll make fun of the way you chew on your pen cap when you’re thinking of what to write next and you’ll shut him up with a kiss.

But for now, he indulges himself whole-heartedly. You let out little gasps which he swallows with his mouth. He tilts his head and kisses you deeper. Only when his lungs are burning does he pull away, and even then, not without a parting peck to the space in between your eyebrows.

“Mingyu,” you say, breathless. 

“Yeah?” he responds, unable to tear his gaze off of your kiss-bitten lips.

“I really am sorry about what I wrote about you,” you apologise, looking down once and then back at him. “It’s only a diary—everyone knows diaries are full of crap.”

“I know.” Mingyu smiles tenderly. “I’m not mad.”

“You should be. I would be, if I was in your place.”

His eyes dart back to meet yours, and he grimaces. “If you really think about it, I’m the one who should be apologising, not you. I shouldn’t have read your diary, no matter how curious I was.”

“I… don’t really care about that, weirdly enough,” you say thoughtfully. “I was more worried about the fact that you thought I hated you and you were gonna leave me. Not so much about you reading the diary itself.”

“Pfft,” Mingyu says, affectionately condescending. “If I left you, where would I go?”

Your mouth parts as you stare at him, dumbfounded. “Jesus. How do you say things like that unironically?”

“I could compose whole sonnets about you and it wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s ironic, I hope.”

He tilts his head and pulls you close. “Only one way to find out.”

When he captures your lips with his this time, it’s with colliding bodies and biting teeth. He runs his tongue across your bottom lip, and you shudder in his arms, moaning. Somehow, you stumble back into the living room, a mess of tangled limbs.

Briefly pulling away, Mingyu sits down on the same sofa he’d occupied earlier and clumsily pulls you onto his lap. You brace your hands on his shoulders for support, lifting your head up when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your jaw.

“Fuck, Mingyu,” you gasp, eyes falling shut.

He hums against your skin. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”

“I was—ah—it’s embarrassing.”

Mingyu stops his movements. “I won’t judge you.”

“I know,” you say, teeth worrying your lower lip. “I’ll tell you someday.”

When you purse your lips, ready for him to kiss you again, Mingyu lets out a soft laugh. “Sweetheart.”

“What?” 

“I think I need to correct some of your… perceptions of me,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands up and down your back.

You furrow your eyebrows. “What?”

“I’m sorry about your blouse,” he whispers. “You looked really pretty wearing it, you know. Got distracted. Couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Mingyu, I don’t know what you’re talking—” You gasp when he kisses the column of your throat.

“I’m sorry for being obnoxious,” he continues, lowering his head and pressing his lips to the pulse point on your neck. “But I’m not sorry you think I’m handsome.”

“Only your face,” you mutter, but you tug on his hair to get him to tilt his head up. When he does, you kiss him again, your hands warm and placed on the junctions where his neck meets his shoulders. 

“I’ll support you in more than just meetings,” he says, pulling back. His breath ghosts over your lips, prompting a shiver to pass through your body. Your eyes widen when you finally, finally realise what he’s talking about. “I’ll tell those stupid clients to shut up and take it.”

You laugh, bright and happy, and Mingyu wants to bottle the sound up greedily. “That sounds kinda wrong,” you say.

He shrugs, his smile turning lopsided. “I’m sorry for ignoring you when you said hi to me. I won’t do it ever again.”

You laugh again, teeth flashing in the warm glow of the living room lights.

There’s an odd feeling in Mingyu’s chest—something warm and golden—something he can only describe as being terribly, hopelessly lovesick for you.

He whispers your name again, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Tell me what you were doing in your room for so long.”

You groan again, your previous amusement turning into embarrassment. Your next words are muffled by his shoulder, your lips warm against his clavicle as you mumble something only you can understand.

“What’s that? I couldn’t hear you,” Mingyu says mischievously.

 Another sound of mortification.

“I won’t laugh,” he says. “Promise.”

“Underwear,” you mumble, just loud enough for him to hear. “I was searching for a better pair of underwear than the one I had on.”

To his credit, Mingyu really doesn’t laugh. It takes a lot of effort, though, and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to prevent his giggles from escaping. 

You lean back and narrow your eyes at him. “Oh, go on. I know you’re dying to laugh.”

He shakes his head, cheeks blown out like a pufferfish. You stare at him quietly.

Minutes later, he exhales shakily. “See? I didn’t laugh. I’m a nice guy.”

His lips find yours again, slower and more languorous this time. After all, he has all the time in the world now—to hold you like this, kiss you gently—and he plans to cherish each second. Your tongue swipes his lower lip, and he parts his mouth willingly. He feels like putty underneath you, as he uses one of his hands to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your lips move against his, already familiar, but he could never stop craving it.

When you pull back to breathe, your eyes are wide and your lips are swollen—a fact that Mingyu notes with pride.

“Nice boys don’t kiss like that,” you breathe out.

“Oh, yes, they fucking do.”

kim mingyu for vogue korea ↳ august 2024 issue

Lowlifes [M] Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x Fem!Reader Tags: 11.5k, f2l, smut, fluff, humor, foundfamily, gang?au, 18+ Summary: Seungcheol grows tired of watching you fool around with a string of loser boyfriends and steps in when an ex shows up somewhere he's not welcome which unravels years of feelings lost in translation. Warnings: SMUT 18+, MINORS DNI!! mxf unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, lots of making out both in public and private, lots of touching, holding, soft manhandling, language, physical violence, mentions of injuries, broken bones, etc. not super detailed but very much implied they are in an illegal crime crew/gang/ring whatever. people are drinking in the bar and getting lit bc it's big dawg dk's bday ok. i think that covers it.

Seungcheol knows he should mind his business and he’s well aware that you can handle your own problems because you take great pleasure in reminding him of your capabilities.

That doesn’t mean he’s not watching out of the corner of his eye as you’re pacing back and forth at the far end of the bar. Your phone is glued to your ear and you’re obviously upset, throwing your free hand in the air with a string of expletives falling from your lips so clearly that he doesn’t have to hear you to make them out. It’s obvious who’s on the other end of that call and just knowing you’re still speaking to your ex irks his nerves.

He drinks down the remainder of his beer as he continues monitoring from a distance, running the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip with thinly veiled irritation. 

When you hang up the phone, mid-sentence, it takes everything in you not to turn and drive your fist through the wall. All the pretty promises and apologies…you knew they were empty. You knew he would disappoint you yet again. You’re more angry with yourself for being stupid enough to hope he’d come through for once but instead of being here with you and your friends, trying to work shit out, he’s running with his new crew. 

Things were always tumultuous with Jae and never going to work out, which you knew very early on, but you just loathe being wrong when you give someone a chance. It was a fool’s hope to think he might turn it around and make you feel better about letting him into your life to begin with.

The truth of the matter was that Jae just wanted to be a part of your crew and when they refused to let him in, he went and found another and tried to drag you along with him. There wasn’t a chance in hell that you’d leave them, your family, but you tried to make things work and it bit you in the ass more times than you could count. 

You’re pissed as all hell when you slip back into the booth, right into Seungcheol’s side. He’s warm and familiar, and when his arm falls around your shoulder it tempers your rage just a touch. Another thing Jae couldn’t stand…how close the two of you were. 

Seungcheol has been by your side since you and your brother were kids. You three have been thick as thieves, literally, for so long that you were more comfortable with him than anyone else in the world. You loved, trusted, and respected Seungcheol to a fault. 

He also notoriously let’s you get away with pretty much everything. 

So, for no reason other than needing a distraction and hoping to get a rise out of him, you take the cold fresh beer he’s yet to touch right out of his hands and bring it to your lips. He makes an amused sound and pinches your shoulder where his hand rests. 

“That doesn’t belong to you,” he grumbles, though he doesn’t do anything to stop you from taking whatever you want.

You swallow another small mouthful and set the beer down, pushing it back into his grip. The little gasp of surprise you let out when his big hand catches around yours before you can let go of the glass makes Cheol grin which is an improvement from the scowl he’s been sporting for most of the night.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been so grumpy?” you ask, leaning into him so he can actually hear you over all the noise, “You only nurse a beer when you’re in a shit mood.”

He lets you pull your hand from the cold glass but doesn’t put any distance between your bodies, he lessens it instead. You’re so close that he doesn’t even need to speak loudly for you to hear him. “I didn’t realize you paid that much attention to me.” His deep rumbling voice can be felt this closely and the alcohol in the warmth of your belly feels fizzy.

“I’ve known you longer than anyone else here,” you reason, “You can’t hide anything from me.”

Seungcheol snickers, “Oh, I bet I could.”

You don’t get the chance to try and one up him because your phone buzzes incessantly in your lap. Pulling back, you both see who is calling and Seungcheol kisses his teeth in irritation. You silence the call, sending your ex to voicemail and you’re about to reach for your own drink but another incoming call prevents you.

“You want me to answer it?” 

Seungcheol’s tone is dangerous so you silence the call again and continue reaching for your glass. “He’ll give up.”

That isn’t typically the case but you're praying this once it is because you really don’t feel like dealing with Jae’s bullshit any more than you wish to handle a pissed off Seungcheol or get a lecture from your brother. Jeonghan, over-bearing and unhinged as he is, will talk you to death when you make a poor choice as if his entire lifestyle isn’t comprised of the ones he’s made. Better to keep him out of it too.  

Cheol will give you a piece of his mind but he’s more like your big, scary guard dog and even though you’re never on the receiving end, you know he’s got a nasty bite so you’d prefer to keep the leash short and not dangle bait before him. The last thing you need is Seungcheol winding up in a cell because of you…he toes that line enough as it is.

Unfortunately, nothing is going your way tonight and your phone lights up again. Normally you’d leave it alone but another part of you, one far and detached from who is calling, still fears the guilt of missing back-to-back calls heavens forbid something has happened.

It’s the only reason you’re answering, shouting over the noise, “You’d better be dying. What the hell do you want?”

“Baby, I just need to talk to you and you’re ignoring me,” he whines back and bile gathers at the base of your throat, “I already said I was sorry! Your friends don’t even like me so I don’t know why you asked me to come. They don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

“You’re not good enough for me,” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, beyond caring about his feelings at this point, “You’ve proved that time and time again and I don’t need them to tell me what I already know. I’m busy. Don’t call me again.”

“Wait, wait!” he calls out to you desperately - it makes your skin crawl, “I’ll come pick you up, sweetheart. I’ll take you somewhere real nice, just us two, ok? You just stay there and I’ll come get you.”

Your face bunches up incredulously, “Don’t bother showing up now! The olive branch I extended by inviting you tonight no longer exists. I don’t want you here and I’m definitely not going anywhere just the two of us. I’m with my crew and you’re with yours,” you argue back, “That’s what you chose, so that’s what you get.”

There is silence on the end of the line and then laughter. 

“You’re lucky you’re hot because it’s a distraction from how fucking crazy you are! I swear to god, you’re just trying to piss me off so I’ll pay more attention to you! Is that what you want? Want me to drop everything to be with you? Like you don’t get enough fucking attentio-”

“Hang up,” comes a growl from your left and when you look over, Seungcheol is seething.

You don’t waste another breath except to say, “Don’t call me again,” before disconnecting..

As you tuck your phone back between your thighs you accidentally meet Jeonghan’s gaze from across the table. His eyes flick between you just having ended another call and Seungcheol who looks like he might shatter the glass in his hand at any given moment. He raises a brow, his silent way of asking if everything is okay and you wink back like it’s totally fine. No worries. Not a thing wrong or out of place. 

Which, it probably would have been if your phone hadn’t vibrated again a minute later. 

It’s just the one time so you thought it was a fluke, a misdial,  but then it buzzes again….and again. Then it’s a continually buzzing stream of new alerts so you pull your phone out and find sixteen unread messages. You don’t even bother reading them and shove the phone back between your thighs. Just. Shut. Up.

Minutes pass and you’re trying really hard to enjoy Chan’s little impromptu performance at the bar, and it sounds lovely, truly, but it’s difficult to focus on anything at all between your efforts to internally process your ex’s fucking audacity and to ignore furious heat rolling off Seungcheol’s body still so close to your own.. 

He’s wholly enraged and you can feel it.

There is maybe a solid seven minutes where your phone sits silently and you’re about to turn to speak to Jihoon and then…another text comes through. Seungcheol’s patience finally wears through and he plucks it from between your thighs before you can react. You watch quietly, not bothering to argue with him as he forces a shut down before pocketing it inside his jacket. 

You still stare at him like some admonished teenager and he stares back with a small smirk, daring you to say something. He’s not doing it to punish you - that’s the reason you don’t push back - he’s going to make sure you enjoy the night just like everyone else. He knows it’s not going to happen if you’re glued to your phone and so do you. 

Narrowing your eyes, you smirk back. “You’re giving that back later, right?”

His answering grin is troubling. “I might make you earn it.”

You toy with the idea of asking how but that line of thought is mercifully interrupted by a round of shots for the whole table being delivered and passed around. You had to wait the additional four minutes of having to sit through Hoshi giving an impromptu speech that almost dissolves to tears because he’s probably (definitely) two shots too deep and then it’s back to chaos and you’re finally free to be a part of it.

Your mood lifts tremendously over the next hour so being present in the moment with the people you love. Hao’s girlfriend Jessie passes you a sticker sheet with little glittery hearts and stars which end up all over the bar, in joshua’s hair, the tip of Jun’s nose, the bathroom walls, and some litter the dance floor. Woozi steals a couple for the back of his phone case and when you run out she supplies you with temporary tattoos. Almost everyone has at least two imprinted on their skin by the time those are run through.

When your hands are empty and your drinks all run dry, an old country western song crackles over the speakers and suddenly you’re being dragged out onto the floor by Mingyu who is hell bent on trying to replicate some old line dance you’re sure he’s fabricated in his foggy mind. Something about heels and toes, and being swung around your partner - it’s fun and somewhat terrifying when he’s nearly lifting you off the ground mid-spin. 

It’s not his fault that he’s got long legs and two left feet when he drinks so it’s mostly the two of you skipping in circles, laughing and completely out of breath, but it’s a blast. 

And then you catch something out of the corner of your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks. Mingyu doesn’t even notice that you’ve stopped until he trips over your foot, looking down at you in confusion. “You givin’ up on me?”

“What the fuck is he doing here?” 

The voice comes from Joshua in the corner, which means somehow word spread about tonight’s falling out without you knowing, and now everyone is looking at your ex, boldly and moronically standing a few feet away from you which is several feet too close for their liking. Unsurprisingly, it’s Hoshi who’s already in his face, smiling in the most menacing fashion. “This is a private event so unfortunately for you, you’ll have to fuck off.”

Jae scoffs aloud, “I don’t give a shit about your party.”

Then his scowl twists into a smirk but it’s cruel and mirthless, his eyes falling on you and Mingyu who had at some point out of habit placed his body just in front of your own.

“I came for my girl but it looks like she’s already moved on for the night, throwing herself at one of you sorry assholes because I couldn’t make time for her. Typical.”

Mingyu anticipates you trying to step around him and quickly catches you around the waist to hold you back at the same time that Seokmin stands from his chair so quickly it falls backwards and lands with a loud clatter. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns menacingly. 

“Watch my mouth? I’m just pointing out that facts. I should have known that’s why she suddenly didn’t want me here,” he goes on like every pair of eyes on him aren’t glaring daggers, “Would have ruined her plans to get shit-faced and open her legs for whichever one of you looked at her first.”

Jeonghan hurls himself at Jae with an opened switchblade in his hand but, thankfully, Joshua and Jihoon catch him first, and the bastard laughs knowing none of them would let Jeonghan get close enough to do something stupid. Not with witnesses around anyway.

Jae tilts his head, speaking directly to Jeonghan with his hands in his pockets and condescention dripping from his tongue, “You’re her big brother,” he pouts, just pouring salt in the wound, “You’re really just going to sit back and allow all your friends to take turns with your little sister? The crew’s designated whor-”

He barely forms a smirk before Seungcheol appears out of nowhere and suckerpunches him in the mouth so hard the crack is audible throughout the bar. Unfortunately for Jae, he’s still conscious when he hits the ground, broken teeth and blood pouring from his maw as he screams in excruciating pain. You’re sure his jaw is broken and you’re glad. 

Absolutely no one moves to help him. Hardly even bats an eye.

Then, Seungcheol draws his leg back and kicks Jae in the stomach which means he’s not done and after what your ex just said…you’re not sure anyone in your crew will step in to stop him. You move instantly, pulling yourself out of Mingyu’s protective grip to push your way to the front where you’re relieved to see Vernon already attempting to pull his friend away and he does but not before your ex’s hand is crushed under the sole of Seungcheol’s boot and the screaming starts anew. 

When you reach them, you immediately put yourself in the middle without hesitation, both hands against Seungcheol’s chest in an effort to calm him down before he loses it completely. One of his hands is still clenched at his side and you’re trying desperately to get him to look down at you. He doesn’t but his other hand comes up to sit at your hip and that’s enough of an acknowledgement that you relax, just slightly. 

You turn just your head to look down at Jae who’s never looked more pitiful. Covered in blood, dirt, snot, and tears. 

Seungcheol glares over your shoulder at the broken man on the floor, his arm now firmly seated around your body in a possessive display as he growls, “Always running your fucking mouth,” then he nods in your brother’s direction, “I should let him cut your tongue out.”

Jeonghan’s knife spins dangerously between his deft fingers like he’s itching to use it. 

He’s no longer restrained, nearly deranged, and begins stalking toward your ex who flinches away and frantically shakes his head, unable to speak with his mangled mouth. Your voice cuts clear into the charged air. “Jeonghan,” you call out and your brother stops mid-step to look up at you patiently. You shake your head at him and he concedes but the fire in his eyes is palpable. 

He smiles down at Jae, voice lilting and deadly. “You’re safe…for now,” he tilts his head, crouching down to get closer, “And don’t bother running back to your crew for help or hope for some form of retaliation,” He pauses, covering his mouth with his knife, giggling with feral delight dancing in his eyes, “I bet you didn’t tell them where you were going or who you were fucking with because they never would have let you come and I can only imagine how pissed they’re going to be when they find out.”

Jae’s brows furrow indicating his confusion and Jeonghan laughs again, wiggling his long fingers, tapping them with the point of his blade. “How do you think your ring leader lost two fingers on his right hand? That pretty scar down the side of his face? It was an improvement if you ask me,” he croons and Jae’s eyes widen with renewed horror, “Loyal little lap dog ever since and hilariously, still harboring a rather sweet crush on my darling sister. Small world, huh? We’ll be sure to let him know how you feel about her and who’s responsible for,” he waves his hand with an air of distaste, gesturing to Jae, “This.”

When Jeongan stands again, his smile falls flat and you turn your head quickly, tucking it into Cheol’s chest when you hear the crunch and subsequent thud as your brother stomps and knocks Jae out cold. It’s cruel, perhaps, but now knowing who exactly he’s been working for, you’d consider this a mercy compared to wait awaits him.

Seungcheol lifts his chin with a silent order and Junhui and Mingyu are already stepping forward to haul Jae’s unconscious form out of the bar with Joshua leisurely striding behind them, Jae’s phone in hand. They’ll dump him outside, a few blocks away. He’s lucky they’re not animals - Josh will use Jae’s phone to deliver a personal message to his crew but beyond that, he’s no longer your crew’s problem. Retaliation isn’t even a concern in this situation.

The atmosphere is obviously soured and you can still feel the rage swirling in the air. There isn’t a single member of your crew who wouldn’t have loved a turn. Even Minghao, calm and even, the most level-headed in situations like this has a particular air of cruelty about him in the moment and Jessie at his side tucks away a glittering pair of brass knuckles. You don’t have to glance around to they are waiting for an order and Cheol still has his eyes focused on the door. There are also a few patrons who are not associated with your crew, the kind who know when to mind their business, but even they seem to be waiting to be told what to do next.

So, you clear your throat and try to paint on a pretty smile.

“Pardon the interuption,” you sigh, each head in the room swiveling in your direction, “Turn the music up and order another round for the whole bar,” you glance up to find Seuncheol already looking down at you and you pat his chest, “Drinks are still on the big guy so you’d better take advantage while he’s still feeling generous.”

Thankfully, its enough to get everyone moving again, your crew falling right back into the party swing as if nothing happened. It was so easy for them to flip the switch sometimes. From volatile back to joyous - back to shots, and karaoke, and dancing. 

Seungcheol was still furious though. He doesn’t bounce back nearly as fast.

“Why don’t we take a walk out back?”

He doesn’t budge for a moment and you say his name a little more firmly this time to which he reponds, “Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry. Let’s go.”

No one asks questions or follows the two of you when he takes your hand and leads you out the back and into the crisp night air. It’s dark but the moon etches just enough light that you can still see each other easily. Seungcheol’s shoulders are tense and you watch his fists clench and unfurl methodically. They’re also red and angry after making direct contact with Jae’s teeth. The thought makes your gut roil.

“Choi Seungcheol,” you lightly grumble, “You can’t go around hospitalizing every asshole that is mean to me.”

Nothing at first and then there’s a little huff of laughter. “I can absolutely do just that, or worse. Besides, I only hit him once.”

“You broke his jaw…and probably a few ribs with that kick,” you sigh and lean back against the building, glancing up at the sky. “My point is that I know you can but that doesn’t mean you should. If you get arrested, who’s gonna take care of me?”

He smirks. “Spoiled.”

“Your fault,” you roll your eyes and really look at him. “I didn’t know he was working for Kaito, obviously. You know I would’ve cut him off completely If I had.”

“I didn’t know either,” he admits, shrugging off your surprise, “Jeonghan must have found out and kept it to himself. You know how he likes to hold onto things until its useful. Your brother is kind of a sadistic asshole sometimes.”

“Hannie is just eccentric and has weird hobbies,” you counter with a small grin, “Besides, he’s your best friend so think about what that says about you.”

He just winks in response. It’s maddening and attractive, per usual. 

“Mhm,” you hum quietly, pleased to watch him unwind in front of you, because of you. “I’m glad to see you’re in a better mood,” you tease him, “I thought for a few that you might have been mad at me.”

Cheol lets out a long sigh and digs his hands into his pockets. “I’m never mad at you.”

You cross your arms and quirk a brow at him, “That’s a blatant lie and you know it. I can’t even count how many times you’ve chewed my ass out for one thing or another.”

“The handful of times that I have yelled at you came directly after you did something dangerous,” he argues back with a short laugh, “Calling your ex, that fucker in particular, makes me question your judgement and maybe your sanity, but it’s not a reason for me to be mad at you. If anything it’s mild frustration.”

You narrow your eyes at him. It’s more than mild. “Say what you need to say, Cheol.”

He squares his shoulders, face serious much like his tone. “You’re too smart to keep choosing assholes that let you down over and over again. So, why do you do it?”

You purse your lips. “Touche,” he’s not wrong, “I am self aware enough to admit my track record is shit but there is not a lot to work with. It’s not as though our dating pool is stellar, Cheol. We’re lowlifes…we associates with other lowlifes. Nice boys like girls like me until they realize I’m not worth the trouble.”

He sputters out a laugh and steps closer, just enough to lower his voice in the echoing alley way. A touch closer and you could probably steal a little body heat you’re starting to wish for. “You are the trouble,” his eyes sparkle when he says it, like its a compliment, “Nice boys too soft for you anyway and we’re not lowlifes…we just live a little differently. You can do better,” he smirks when you roll your eyes again, “You can…you just don’t.”

You uncross your arms and spread them out before you. “Oh, any suggestions? I forgot you were a dating expert-” then you break into a laugh and Cheol is throwing his head back, knowing what’s coming. “Oh, wait! I forgot. You’ve not had a girlfriend in what? Five years? Eight?”

He snatches both your hands out of the air and pushes them back toward your chest, trying to reign in his amusement and overall urge to smother you. “You’re high maintenance enough. Why the hell would I need a girlfriend? I’ve got enough on my plate.”

You reach out and lightly punch him in the chest. “You’re a big boy, Cheol. Don’t let me hold you back. I can handle myself.”

At this, he snorts and pulls a hand out of his pocket to point at you. “You can handle yourself? Did I not pick you up in a police station two months ago for speeding…again?”

You pull off the wall with your mouth open to defend yourself and he abruptly pushes you right back against it and continues. “Who taught you how to drive and took the blame when you ran over Jeonghan’s bike when you were fifteen? Who showed up at three in the morning to pick your drunk ass up at that halloween party just so you could puke in my car and my bed…all night?” he pushes closer and lowers his voice “Who bailed you out of jail four months ago when you took a glass bottle to someone’s head in club and it turned out to be a fucking cop?”

“He looked like any other perv fondling girls on the dance floor!” You shout, eyes wide and wild as if someone would overhear, “How was I supposed to know he was a cop?! And why does it matter? He was a creep and I’d do it again!”

Seungcheol is simply dissolving into laughter, his earlier shit mood absolutely erased, and then as your volume grows he starts attempting to shush you though it’s half-assed. 

“Shhhh,” he laughs even harder, “I know, I know. I’m just teasing,” he grins when you finally crack a small smile, “Honestly, I was so proud of you that night. Took fifteen stitches to sew him back together and I hear it’s left a big ugly scar.”

You scoff in disbelief at his blatant pride. “Proud?! You chewed my ass out the entire way home.”

“Quit doing dangerous shit without me,” he shrugs unapologetically, “If you’re gonna get yourself in trouble, at least make sure I’m there to back you up.”

You roll your eyes, placing your cool hands under your chin to warm them. A cold wind whips through the alley, tossing his soft black hair around. Naturally, he steps into the wind’s path, blocking you from the worst of it because that’s what he does. It grants you the opportunity to slide a little closer and he chuckles, catching on very quickly to what you’re trying to do. Use him as both a human shield and personal heater. 

He looks down at you with that soft gaze you know is only reserved for you. As you’ve grown older together, you’ve learned that it’s best to avoid basking in it for more than a few seconds at a time. Your eyes dart down to his chest and back up again, not quite meeting his eyes this time. “It’s colder than I thought it would be tonight.”

He pulls your jacket a little tighter around you. “We can go back inside if you want.”

Whatever you want - it’s always whatever you want. Sometimes you just want to know what Seungcheol wants.

You hold eye contact with him now, just watching to see if his expression changes at all. It’s almost dizzying, staring at one another so closely. A stupid decision on your part, honestly.

“What if I asked you to take me home?”

Simple. “We can go home. Just gotta grab my key-”

You shake your head with a small laugh. “Actually, I think we should go back in and sing karaoke.”

His lips pull up, always quick to pick up on the game. “What song? I love karaoke.”

“Liar. You hate karaoke,” you grin, “Why do you give into anything I ask?”

His smile is so beautiful - it always has been. 

“I do not give into everything,” he corrects you and then huffs in amusement, “Go ahead, try your luck but put some actual thought into it. You know most things are negotiable for lowlifes like us.”

“Great! So, you’ll let me drive your car tomorrow night?” you bat your eyes at him soo prettily. It’s in the bag.

He hardly budges. “No,” comes from those plump lips more clearly than you’ve ever heard it in your life and you instinctually pout like a child which amuses him. “I said put some actual thought into it. You’re a terrible driver.”

“You also said to try my luck,” you answer and it comes out more like a grumble, “Which has apparently abandoned me tonight.” 

The way you drop your shoulders and pull yourself inward knocks him off kilter and his smile drops in a split second. When he speaks again, his voice is just a touch deeper - less playful, more gentle. The change is so slight that anyone else would miss it but you’ve got that shift of his rooted in your memory at this point. 

“Your luck? Maybe,” he tips his head in consideration, close enough that he’s slipped his arms around you, big hands splayed comfortingly against the middle of your back, “I’m still here though.”

You know you should put some space in between your bodies right now but that little voice that is usually telling you to mind your boundaries is so far away in the moment that you do the opposite. Closing the distance, you look up at him as you slip your hands around his waist beneath his jacket. “Yeah, you’re always here for me. Aren’t you?”

When he dips his head closer, his tone is surprisingly serious. “I hope that’s not an actual question at this point.”

His free hand comes up to catch the back of your neck as you move to pull away, to ask him to explain or just to confirm that what you’re feeling is mercifully mutually, but you’re trapped - body painted against Seungcheol’s in the moonlight. It’s probably the most intimate position you’ve ever been in with him and your heart thrashes in your chest.

“I’ve always been right here,” his nose and lips brush your cheek as he speaks, “Patiently waiting.”

“Waiting for what?” you ask too softly but he smiles, you can feel it against your skin.

“For you to get tired of playing house,” He chides gently, “You already have a home with me and you know it.”

To say it out loud for the first time is almost staggering for Seungcheol and it’s a devastating revelation for you. Each time you tried dating someone new it had felt like a cheap replacement to distract you from the despairing thoughts of loving Seungcheol and him not loving you back, but he was there. Watching, waiting, already belonging to you in every way the entire time. 

The first sound out of your mouth is escaped laughter. It’s soft and disbelieving. 

Seungcheol smiles as he pulls back enough to see your face. “You genuinely didn’t know?”

You shake your head back and forth, still laughing, and the dimples in his cheeks pinch as he’s rolling his eyes at you, snickering to himself. “You’re the worst. I seriously thought you were playing dumb on purpose,” he groans, though his hands meet in the middle of your back now, comfortably laced like he plans on staying this way for a while. “Tell me. Who are all those idiots in there to you?”

Easy. “They’re my brothers.”

“And who am I?”

Your lips twitch and he smirks. “You’re just…Seungcheol,” saying it makes everything so plain and simple. So obvious. “You’re my Seungcheol.”

“Exactly. Have I ever felt like a brother to you? Like just a friend?” he prods, pretty white teeth still on display. He’s going to drive his point home like always. 

“Listen, jerk,” you poke him in the chest with a long sigh, “Of course you never felt like those things to me. I didn’t want to see you as just a friend and definitely not as a brother, gross,” you grimace at the thought, “But just because I felt that way about you doesn’t mean I thought you felt the same. I thought it was all very one-sided and I was just going to eventually get over it.”

He raises a single brow. “And,” he blinks pointedly, “Have you gotten over it yet?

“Unfortunately not.”

“Good.”

Good because he’s truly out of patience at this point and he’s going to make sure you know exactly how he feels without question. 

And that’s how you find yourself caged up against the wall outside the bar, Seungcheol’s lips hungirly claiming your own. His hands trace your body outside your clothing until he gets tired of the separation and you jolt feeling his cold hands against your waist beneath your shirt. There isn’t a second of stillness. He’s constantly moving, shifting, giving, taking. 

You’re no better. 

The second he kissed you it was like a flood of energy zapping each and every one of your nerves. After your lips, your arms were quickly in motion, wrapping around his neck and shoulders. Fingers threading through and tugging at his hair. He touched you and kissed you so thoroughly that despite the fact that is freezing and you’re indeed, exposed outside while your friends are just on the other side of that back door, you want more. 

More, more, more. 

Seungcheol does too. 

“Let’s go,” he mumbles between your lips, still too enthralled to pull away. 

It makes you laugh, though it’s a little delirious because he’s back to sucking and biting pretty little marks onto your neck, and you peel your eyelids open to see the fog from your breath as you speak. “It’s Seok’s birthday,” your mouth pops open with a silent gasp as he bites you again, “We can’t just leave.”

He drags himself back up and meets your eyes, grinning, “Like hell we can’t. Go get in my car,” he digs his keys out of his pocket and passes them over, “I’ll let the boys know we’re leaving.”

You stand there for a moment, keys in your outstretched hand, “Wait!” you realize he’s already opening the door. He’s so serious. “What are you going to tell them?”

He shrugs, “That we have better things to do.”

Appalling. “Seungcheol!”

Now he’s smirking. “Alright, alright. I’ll tell them we’re leaving and going back to my place to fu-”

“SEUNGCHEOL!”

“You don’t want me to lie and you don’t want me to tell the truth,” he blinks back at you, “I am not sure what you want from me, baby.”

Well. Brain melted. If he’s calling you ‘Baby’ he can do whatever he damn well pleases. 

“I’ll be waiting,” you laugh, quickly spinning on your heel before you drag him away and he doesn’t get a chance to tell anyone you’re leaving. They probably wouldn’t notice for a few hours anyway. You shake your head, hurrying your steps toward his car. 

It feels like you’re waiting an eternity but it’s only been a few minutes and when you glance out the window he’s already hurrying back. You’re not sure if he just caught the first person he saw and told them to pass it on or if he walked in and announced it to the entire bar but you honestly don’t care. You’re maybe fifteen minutes from the garage, Cheol’s permanent (and your home away from) home. He’ll probably make it in eight with the way he drives. 

“I’m surprised to not find you in the driver’s seat,” he laughs, shutting the door and immediately bringing the car to life. 

“You’re the better driver and I’d like to get there quickly.”

Smirking, he smoothly backs out of his parking space and peels out onto the road. “I think you’re plenty good at speeding. If your record has anything to say about it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Ok, so you’re better at speeding and not getting caught. This is why I handle the other business aspects.”

His hand slips over the middle and lands on your thigh, kneading and flexing possessively. 

Watching you handle business has always intrigued and infuriated him. You’ve swindled awful men out of house and home - lining your crew’s pockets with all the spoils. It had always been a fine line between letting you work while recognizing how good you were at your job and trying not to strangle every dickhead who thought that fake smile you gave them was genuine. “Might have to retire you now.”

You pout in his direction knowing his moody comment is nothing more than his protective, if not slightly dominant, nature coming through. He’s not at all serious, even if he’d like to be. “You gonna take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore?”

He grins at the suggestion. “You know I’ll take care of you, baby. Minghao is plenty good-looking. We’ll start using him instead.”

You snort at the thought. “You’re better off sending, Jeonghan. He's pretty, charming, and he knows exactly how to get what he wants out of anyone. Why do you think I’m so good at it? Learned from the best.”

“Yeah,” Cheol turns, the wheel smoothly gliding through his hand, “I don’t typically have to worry about you stabbing or torturing anyone though.”

“Typically?” you turn in surprise, laughing, “Are you saying it has been a concern?”

He looks at you with a brow quirked. “Once or twice,” he scoffs, “You are way more like your brother than you realize.”

“Oh? You got a thing for him too?”

He snickers in response, shaking his head. “Little shit.”

He squeezes the meat of your thigh again and you realize he’s shifted his hand higher, his fingers spread wide, the pads biting into your jeans. “Quit flirting with me and drive faster.”

The only sound that follows is his quiet amusement and the roar of the engine. 

Pulling into the garage, you’re feeling too charged from the quiet, electrifying tension. It makes you feel jerky, like every movement of your body takes too much effort and every surface you touch shocks your skin. You’re already eyeing the stairs leading up to his loft but he’s taking his sweet time coming around the front of his car, waiting for the garage doors to roll back down. You want to barrel straight into him but you don’t exactly trust your legs to carry you. 

The doors close with a loud thud and he looks over at you still standing near the passenger door. “You look nervous,” he smiles softly, making his way around the car until his hands are seated over your hips. “We don’t have to-”

“No, no, that’s not it,” you huff out a laugh, “I think all the anticipation made my body stop working. Everything is tingly and sharp, and I don’t think I can move. Stop laughing at me!”

He can’t. Seungcheol is simply beside himself. You really can’t blame him. Truly, too horny and excited to walk? That’s got to be a new one. It certainly is for you. 

“I can carry you, it’s fine.”

But he is still shaking with laughter and we’re talking a whole ass flight of stairs. It’s not fine, though Cheol is already scooping you up and you're frantically trying to situate yourself on his back because that seems like the safest option and you’re already off the ground. He’s not putting you back down until you’re both behind closed doors. 

“Oh my god,” you bury your face in his shoulder as he takes the first few steps up the stairs, “This is such a bad idea!”

His hands are firmly seated beneath your thighs and your arms are wrapped so tightly around his shoulders that you’re not even shifting much as he carries you but it’s nerve wracking and honestly, a bit embarrassing. He’s incredibly proud and stubborn so there really is no hope in convincing him to put you down anyway.

“Stop panicking,” he laughs, now halfway up the stairs, “I’m not even struggling so your lack of faith in me is hurting my feelings. You act like you’ve never seen me workout. I do it for a reason.”

“I thought the reason was just because you like to beat people up.”

He huffs in amusement, “Fighting isn’t fun when you’re not winning.”

“Well, you always win so you must be having a blast,” you pinch his earlobe, rolling your eyes since he can’t catch you doing it.

When he reaches the landing, he digs into his pocket, unlocking the door with one hand and then kicking it shut once you’re both inside. Then he lets you slide down his back but before your feet actually hit the ground, he’s spinning around to pick you right back up. He laughs at the sound you make, quickly grabbing his shoulders and crossing your ankles at his back. Cheol flips the lock on the door and takes you into the small kitchen, setting you down on the counter. 

“I always win when you’re watching,” he plants his hands on either side of you, leaning closer, “You get mad at me when I don’t, so, I stopped losing.”

He looks up at you with a boyish grin and you bring your hands up, lightly touching his cheeks with your finger tips. You’ve seen his soft skin mottled with bruising more times than you cared to think about. “I don’t care about losing,” you murmur, lost in thought, “I just hate it when you get hurt.”

Tracing a finger over his right brow you remember that night years ago when he returned from a job with it split wide open, blood dripping down his pale face. Busted lips, fractured ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and an awful limp. It was the first time you ever saw him so…broken.

You yelled at him for getting hurt but cradled his face in your hands the whole time. While Minghao sutured it closed, you continued cursing at him and everyone else who’d gone out that night but you never let go of his hand. When Joshua reset Cheol’s shoulder and he nearly passed out from the pain, you sobbed. For days you’d been furious with him yet you stayed over at his place for almost two solid weeks to take care of him. 

Putting him back together with your own two hands was the only way you could convince yourself that he was okay and from then on, you accompanied him on most jobs. Anytime things got messy, he’d come out victorious, and the very few times you weren’t there, he returned nearly unscathed. Bloodied knuckles at most. 

Your fingers must have drifted down to his lips because he kisses them and it brings you back to the present. He smiles against your fingertips and you move them under his jaw, out of the way, just so you can kiss him again. It’s soft, slow, adoring and his hands slide into place right at your lower back, his fingers pushing beneath your shirt to stroke your skin. 

When they make contact, his fingers spread wide, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. It makes your back arch, pitching your hips forward, and leaves you sitting poised for the taking but even then he takes his time. In the back of your mind, you’re sure he can feel your heat against his groin and it must be driving him just as insane as it does you.

Despite the body heat, when he pushes your shirt up a little further with his busy hands, you shiver at how cold you still are. It’s accompanied by a breathy little gasp that makes him pull away grinning, eyes still watching your mouth. “Still cold?”

“Yeah,” you admit, “Do you ever turn the heat on in this place?”

“Only when you’re here. I don’t usually need it.”

Of course not. Big manly man. 

“You’re going to need it if you’re still hoping to get my clothes off.”

Cheol pays no mind to your change in tone. The one you use to nag him to death. Instead he scoops you right off the counter, starting toward his bedroom. “I can warm you up myself just fine,” he says in an equally haughty kind of way. 

The kind of way that shuts you up because the only other thing that you could possibly manage is some pathetic giggle. He even makes a show of hanging onto to you with only one arm because he’s just so strong and you humor him with an ‘oh wooooow’ that makes him crack, laughing as he lets you slowly drop to the floor.

Your hand remains on his chest, nervously pinching at his shirt as you look around the room. You’ve been in here before just…not for anything like this. “Why does this feel normal and not normal at the same time,” you pause, realizing there is actually something different that you hadn’t noticed right away. 

Seungcheol let’s his hands drop away so you can walk over to his dresser to sate your…curiosity? Surprise? “You said I needed more personal decorations around the house,” he clears his throat, watching as you carefully lift his picture frames off the furniture to examine them, “I figured pictures were personal enough.”

There is one of Cheol as a teenager standing proudly beside his first car. Another with a few members of the crew all grinning around a card table. You loosen a soft laugh remembering that night clearly. Mingyu and Hoshi shouting over the table like banshees…all because Hoshi got caught cheating and blamed it on his favorite designated target. 

You pick up one you don’t recognize but smile at the familiar faces hanging out of the windows of a car you do recognize vaguely. The job details were hazy but you know you remember that car for some reason.

Seungcheol must have noticed you squinting at it because he comes over and stands behind you, pointing at the picture. “You don’t remember this one because you broke into a case of wine coolers the moment we were all home and accounted for,” he chuckles, his breath tickling your cheek, “Almost seven years ago now.”

“I hated waiting for you guys to come home,” you pout, pointing to the picture, “Why do I remember this car though? It’s so familiar.”

He laughs again and this time you spin toward him like the reason he is laughing is clearly painted on his face. It’s not but he fills in the blanks without prompting.

“Jeonghan caught you in the backseat of that exact car making out with Seungkwan, of all people,” Cheol grins at your grimace “We hauled you both off to bed, tucked you in, and agreed not to tell a soul. I honestly don’t think he knows about it either. You guys were wasted.”

“I definitely do not remember doing that but I did oddly stop drinking wine coolers not long after that night,” you sigh, tucking away the embarrassing story to kick your self over later.

“Guilty subconscious?” 

Shrugging off your jacket you give him a fake laugh which eventually morphs into a grin. “Were you jealous back then?”

He takes your lead, removing his clothes one piece at a time. “I was always jealous,” he admits and you let yourself stop to watch as he grabs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. It leaves him only in his jeans, belt already unbuckled. 

You’re the opposite, jeans kicked to the side, but your hands rest on your shirt, too busy looking at Seungcheol to force yourself to keep moving. He’s no better, eyes glued to your hips, to your underwear, your legs, and then his eyes bounce back up to your face, finally noticing the way you’re looking at him.

He takes a slow step forward and then another.

“I’m not perfect,” he cautions, another step closer, “I’m stubborn and jealous,” one more step until you’re touching, “I don’t like sharing. If one of the guys flirts with you, even as a joke, I’ll probably rip their head off. Might happen more than once but I’ll get over it eventually, I promise.”

“Hmm,” you smirk as he stops so closely you can feel the heat coming of his body, “A little sensitive?”

“Maybe.” His smile is so pretty and disarming because now his hands are on you, palms rubbing circles into your hips before sliding back and down over your ass. “You’ve been chipping away at my self control for over a decade and now you’re half-naked in my bedroom. I’ve hit my breaking point, baby. I’m going to be selfish with you.”

You shift just enough to pull your shirt over your head, tossing it in the general direction of your pants, and settle your arms around his shoulders. “I think it’s only fair because I have always been selfish with you and i’ll be so much worse now,” you grin and he let’s out a heavy, husky chuckle, tightening his thick arms around you, “I’m going to be a menace.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“I’m still cold.”

Then he’s kissing you again, your hands quickly moving from his shoulders to his waist, pushing his jeans as low as you can before he’s forced to part and pull them the rest of the way off, laughing and stumbling with you toward the bed. You land first, quickly shuffling under the comforter for warmth and he’s right behind you, rolling you onto your back to cover you with his body. It’s an added layer of heat and you wiggle beneath him when his thigh pushes between your legs. 

Seungcheol wants everything all at once and hates having to choose but loves knowing he’ll get the opportunity to do it all in good time. For now, he can’t seem to keep away from your lips, can’t stop the noises he makes everytime you tug at his hair or scrape your nails against his back and he hopes to god they leave bright red scratches in their wake. 

He wants to watch you get shy and embarrassed when he works out with them on full display. His ego is a beast and it’s going to be riding a high for a while.

When you push up against him, he gives you a little space to quickly undo your bra before it’s tossed to the floor and he’s slipping a little lower, his face pressed against your soft, warm chest. His mouth dances from one breast to the other and you moan into the open air of his bedroom, one of your hands still rubbing his back, smoothing over his muscles mindlessly. His perfect teeth graze your nipples and you grind down against his thigh. 

He pushes it higher and repeats the action over and over until you’re steadily working yourself up and then he shifts, taking that relief away from you. Your eyes pop open in surprise but he kisses you again before you can speak and his right hand slides into your panties, wet and uncomfortably cool against your folds now that his thigh is gone. 

He doesn’t waste time, running his middle and ring finger up and down until they’re so slick-coated that there is hardly any resistance when he slips them inside you, stroking up against that spot that has you arching your back off the bed. It’s almost cruel how quickly he gets you there and even worse that he hardly touches your clit before you come, stars flashing behind your eyes. 

Seungcheol kisses your face through it, whispering sweet, filthy praises against your skin. That’s my girl, you’re so fucking good for me, baby. Sound so pretty right now, wanna hear you say my name just like that.

It’s a miracle you don’t come again the second he pushes into you because he doesn’t stop talking unless his mouth is occupied and he’s too good at multitasking. The only time you get a break from his wicked words is when he’s bottoming out and your ears are ringing so loudly that you can’t even hear him anymore. He must realize it too because his mouth was moving and now, he’s just grinning, eyes trained on your lips when he draws his hips back a little and pushes back in. 

His pace varies because he likes watching the breath get caught in your throat, breaking up the gorgeous sounds spilling from your lips. For all the taunting and talking he’s done, he’s just as worked up as you are and suddenly sits up on his knees which changes the angle. He spreads your thighs further apart, almost crudely, and props your ass a bit higher. At first, he wraps his hands around your thighs for leverage, digging his fingers into your skin but it’s not enough, he needs more. 

When he moves his hands to either side of your waist, he locks in the perfect position to go as deep as possible and the sounds you begin making are far more desperate, the pitch swinging higher and higher until he’s moaning and panting, driving into you faster and harder than before. You know you’re going to come again, and fast, so when your eyes meets his, and he purses his lips, letting spit drop from his plump lips onto your clit, he doesn’t have to tell you aloud what to do. 

You bring your own hand down, rubbing yourself until your limbs start twitching. Your breaths are so shallow and ragged, your fingertips messily bumping against the base of his cock where he plunges in and out of your cunt recklessly. He looks just as far gone as you do but the second your eyes meet, he smirks and it’s your absolute undoing. 

When you orgasm for the second time it’s so intense that all of your muscles lock up aside from your legs which shake uncontrollably and Seungcheol groans, hips stuttering when he feels the overabundance over warm liquid spilling out around his cock, splashing against his groin and stomach, dripping onto the bed. He stills, filling you so completely full that you can’t even breath without adding to the mess you’ve both created. 

It takes several long minutes of heavy panting and blinking to get your heads on straight and he still doesn’t pull out. Not even when he slumps down against you, grinning and kissing you lazily. He’s doesn’t give a single fuck about the mess, even going to so far as pumping his hips a few times, laughing when you hide your face under your arm at the lewd sounds echoing through the room. 

It’s playful at first, those half-hearted thrusts, but then his kisses turn into little nips, his mouth starts spilling those dirty words in your ear and it’s not long until you can feel him getting hard inside of you again, having never pulled out in the first place. He keeps fucking into you slowly, swallowing the sound of your whining, revelling in the way your nails no longer just rake over his skin but painfully dig into it over his shoulder blades. 

He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t speed up. Doesn’t give you the chance to wiggle away from him when the sharp tingling of overstimulation bleeds into, “Oh, fuck, Cheol, I’m gonna come again…fuck…”

And you do until tears stream down your face and he pulls out, flips you over, and puts it right back in, fucking you brutally until he’s moaning and cumming, and you’re nearly ready to pass out in the bed you’ve both absolutely ruined. You hear him speaking but can’t make out the words and then maybe your eyes close because you’re sated and exhausted. 

It doesn’t last long though because Seungcheol is attempting to drag you from sleep because he needs to clean you both up and change the sheets before anyone crashes for the night but you’re not budging. 

Until you feel the sensation of thick fingers pushing into your cunt and you mumble aloud, “Absolutely no…straight to jail.”

Seungcheol laughs at you having not even moved when you said it and removes his hand. “I tried waking you up nicely and you kept ignoring me. Besides, it’s all starting to spill out and I like seeing you full. If you keep laying here I’m going to end up fucking it all back in and giving you more.”

Rolling onto your back takes an incredible amount of willpower and Cheol’s helping hands because your hips are stiff as all hell. He’s patient, not pushing beyond your limits even though you’re sure he could go a few more rounds without tiring in the least. Affection swirls in your chest and it takes him by surprise when you reach a hand up and around his neck to pull him down to your lips. 

HIs body relaxes into the bed, pressing his weight more firmly into the mattress to keep the pressure light where it covers your own. He kisses you tenderly, his hands moving softly and slowly over your skin, and your mind is emptied of all but the feel of him. It’s overwhelming, how deeply attuned you are to one another and yet your body continues to demand more. 

Your kiss is broken off in a choked moan, Seungcheol’s, when your hand snakes between your bodies. He drops his forehead to yours, taking in a deep, shaky breath when you rub the head of his cock into the mess between your folds. “Again?” he questions, even as his hips push forward of their own accord. 

“Again…” you breathe out, tipping your face up to catch his bottom lip with a gentle nip, “..and again, and again, and agai-”

The delirious smile on your face drops open as he pushes back inside. Your tight, swollen cunt aches with the intrusion but each shockwave that pulses through you is laced with pointed pleasure. The effort to keep his pace even and gentle is difficult but Cheol finds very quickly that there is something incredibly arrousing about slow, deep, intimate fucking. 

He’s never experienced anything like it because he’s never had you. 

Yet here you are beneath him, clawing at his back and shoulders, moaning against his throat, and he knows it will only ever be like this with you. He knew he was ruined for all others years ago but in this moment he fully understands the weight of it. 

Seungcheol will never want anyone but you.

And when you unravel together again, you look into his eyes and know it too.

The next morning it takes an unprecidented amount of effort to wake up.

Your body aches and joints pop in too many places when you stretch your limbs as if you’ve been asleep for years and not mere hours. It’s easy to pinpoint the loss of warmth at your side, Seungcheol hardly ever sleeps in and it’s evident by the smell of fresh coffee wafting in through the open bedroom door. 

Slipping into the shirt he’d left you and your jeans from last night, you wander in and out of the bathroom and head straight to the kitchen. Cheol knows you don’t drink coffee but you do love the smell of it so the sight of a full, almost untouched pot makes you laugh. His mug sits abandoned in the sink so you rinse it out and refill it, carefully balancing the full cup in your hands as you leave his apartment and head down the stairs into the garage. 

Joshua is the first person you find, unsurprising as he never seems to get hungover no matter how much he drinks the night before. He’s sitting at one of the work tables pouring over a set of blue prints for a new job when you walk by, chuckling and swatting away your hand when you ruffle his hair. “Morning Joshie.” He waves over his shoulder as you keep walking.

It’s relatively quiet in the garage for a Saturday morning but most of your crew is probably passed out from the evening prior. You would have stayed in bed longer too if someone wasn’t missing from it - someone you still haven’t found. Instead, you happen upon Jeonghan and Mingyu working on an engine…you think…again, not your expertise. 

“Well, well, well,” Jeonghan drawls as he catches you approaching from the corner of his eye, “If it’s not my darling little sister,” he grins and leans over to kiss your cheek when you stop in front of him, “Whatever are you doing here, in the garage, smelling like sex and coffee, so early on this delightful Saturday morning?”

You give your brother a deadpan stare and Mingyu snickers behind him. 

“Where’s Cheol?”

“Bringing in another delivery with Jun in the back,” Mingyu mumbles half-way under the hood with tools in hand, “Should be finishing up soon.”

Jeonghan leans against the car and crosses his arms. “Is this an official thing?”

You know he’s only asking because he loves you both so deeply that if there were any chance of it being a fling where feelings are inevitably going to be trampled, he’s putting an end to it immediately. He’s so fiercely protective that he’d step in to protect you from yourselves without hesitation.

“That man would have to be thirty feet deep in the ground to leave me.”

“Isn’t the saying ‘six-feet deep’?” Mingyu laughs, still focusing on his task.

“I said what I said and honestly thirty-feet still might not be enough - you’ll probably have to bury me with him.”

Jeonghan relaxes, shrugging off the tension in his body with a loose laugh. “Good to know,” he grins, eyes soft and gentle once more, “I always knew you’d end up together once you both gave up the world’s most stubborn ass competition.”

He’s not wrong. Who knew a little communication could go a long way? Certainly not you and Cheol.

Two cars pull up outside the open garage door across the way and you wiggle your fingers in greeting when Vernon, Hoshi, Wonwoo and Jihoon all pop out looking absolutely exhausted. You turn and set Cheol’s mug down on the counter behind you and pull out a stool to take a seat and hang out. 

“Wonwoo wouldn’t let us stop for breakfast please tell me there are still leftovers from lunch in the fridge,” Hoshi complains loudly. He absolutely still looks a little drunk.

Jihoon shoves him to the side and makes a beeline for the fridge around the corner, the two of them cursing and bickering as they go. Wonwoo and Vernon pull up a stool next to you and now you’re feeling a little guilty for only bringing one mug down. 

“Where’s Cheol?” Wonwoo asks, pushing his glasses up and shaking out his messy hair.

Jeonghan tosses a thumb in his direction, “Delivery.”

Wonwoo nods and Vernon taps your shoulder. “Hey, you’re here kinda early. Where did you go last night? Lost you at some point.”

Your cheeks heat. There are some of the guys you make crude jokes with and some you don’t - both Vernon and Wonwoo being on one side while Mingyu and Jeonghan are on the opposite. “Oh, I uhhh-”

“Notice anyone else missing last night?”

“Jeonghan-”

Vernon’s brows pinch together in thought. Mingyu stands up, setting down his tools before wiping his hands on his pants. “You know,” he grins, “Guy who lives in a garage, goofy laugh, kinda mean…”

Wonwoo breaks out in hysterics and Vernon’s grin is entirely visible though you’re sure he is trying to make it disappear when he says, “Oh! Oh okay…yeah…that makes sense. So, you’re like…yeah?”

You snort in response nodding your head. “Mhm, we’re like yeah.”

“Who’s like what?” Hoshi says around a mouthful, coming up to join you with Jihoon stomping past him empty-handed to go help Joshua. 

“Her and Cheol finally got together,” Wonwoo supplies and Hoshi’s eyes light up.

“Oh my god!!! That’s so exciting!” he dances over and drops his food on the counter, which Mingyu picks up to polish off while he’s distracted. Hoshi wraps you in a bear hug you try to fight off and then you’re up and out of your chair being squeezed and swung around, “This is such great news!!!”

Thwap.

Hoshi blinks and you slide to the floor. When he touches the back of his head, it’s wet and he turns to find a rag on the ground. It takes less than two seconds to figure out who threw it because it’s Seungcheol’s thundering voice that calls out, “Put her down and get to work, asshole.”

“Asshole?” Hoshi mutters, kicking the rag, “I’m the asshole?”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, “Oh, he’s going to be unbearable,” he smacks your arm lightly, “Hey, do us all a favor. Take him back upstairs and tie him up or something would ya?”

“Inappropriate,” you snort just before big familiar arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Morning baby,” he breathes against your hair before he’s planting a hot kiss on the side of your neck, “Sleep well?”

Everyone very quickly finds a way to mind their own business. 

“Slept just fine,” you smile, turning your head to kiss him properly. “Now apologize to Hoshi, you beast.”

He sighs, dropping his head dramatically against your shoulder. “Hoshi!” he shouts across the way, “I’m sorry. Order breakfast for everyone on me.”

“All is forgiven, bro!” Hoshi salutes him in response and the others start gathering to make their requests. Food fixes almost anything in this house.

Cheol laughs and kisses your hair. “Happy?”

“Very,” you hum, turning in his arms, “Brought you coffee but it might be cold by now.”

“That was nice of you.” Now that you’re finally getting a good look at him you see he’s wearing the dark blue cargo pant, white tank top combo that drives you fucking insane. You’ll sit for literal hours on end just to watch him work on the cars in that exact outfit. Even better when he’s got oil smatterings here and there. The thick leather gloves he sometimes has hanging out of his back posket when not in use. 

Mechanic Seungcheol is one of your favorite fantasies sprung to life.

“I wasn’t doing it out of the kindness of my own heart,” you retort, “I was trying to get something out of you in return.”

“Oh?” he smirks, “Like what?”

“Kiiiinda hoping I’d get you back upstairs for a few favors.”

His hands slide along your arms until he’s managed to bring them up and around his neck and then he’s got you caged in, clasping his own low on your back. “I’m sure we can make time for that,” he mumbles along the seam of your lips, brazenly, and very openly making out with you in the next breath like there aren’t several people in the garage along with you.

“MAKE IT QUICK. WE’VE GOT SHIT TO DO.”

Cheol tosses up a middle finger in Jeonghan’s general direction and shouts back, “Well, I’ve got your sister to do and that’s more important. Work can wait.” Your mouth pops open in amusement and he takes advantage of your distraction to hoist you up into his arms, making his way toward the stairs to his apartment again. When he speaks again, it’s only loud enough for you, “I think I’ve got just enough time to fuck you over the kitchen counter and make a fresh pot of coffee before I have to come back down, whoop your brother’s ass, and get back to work.”

“Your time management skills are-” you cling onto him a little tighter as he starts up the steps, “- very impressive.”

“You should see my oral presentation skills.”

With that in mind, you lean over his shoulder and shout down, “YOU CAN HAVE HIM BACK IN AN HOUR.”

“AN HOUR?!” Jeonghan hollers back, absolutely exasperated because he knows this is going to be an ongoing battle for months if not years on end. “WHAT PART OF WE GOT SHIT TO DO DID YOU TWO NOT UNDERSTAND?”

Cheol sighs and puts you down to open the door, hanging over the railing with a flat look on his face. “I’ll rip the transmission out of your car with my bare hands and toss it into the river if you open this door.”

Jeonghan scoffs but Cheol grins and cuts him off, “And then i’ll take the knife in your glovebox and split open every individual stitch in the interior.”

Those are serious fighting words between car guys. You think.

Jeonghan narrows his eyes and then huffs, hands on his hips. “You guys are the worst.”

Cheol blows your brother a kiss as you drag him inside and you can catch a hint of amusement on Jeonghan’s face just before you seal yourselves inside. 

You’re okay with being the worst, so is Seungcheol. 

Maybe being a couple of lowlifes isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Thanks for reading! 💖

SVT M.List | Main M.List

→ Please do NOT copy, repost, or translate, any of my works here on tumblr or on any other platforms! All stories are copyrighted, Milfgyuu, 2019. ©️

jungkook trying taehyung's glasses ♡

[266/547] — until we meet again, jungkook ♡

—hot boy bummer. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: fuckboy!jungkook / friends with benefits / friends to lovers + smut  

⟶ words: 14,633

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: when jungkook offers you a proposition of just sex, no strings attached, how can you possibly say no? after all, what are best friends for?

⟶ warnings: kind of a crack fic, sprinkle of angst, way too casual conversations mid-sex, jealous jungkook, slight himbo jungkook tbh (he’s kind of a sweet loveable idiot), he also has a big dick oops, man bun and blonde jungkook to feed my fantasies!, multiple smut scenes!!!, missionary, dry humping, oral sex (m receiving), face fucking, unprotected sex, slight degradation (mostly jungkook hating himself), brief name calling, light choking, sort of praise kink

⟶ note: this was inspired by a number of things but mainly do me by kim petras being on jungkook’s spotify playlist, this tiktok sound, and this tumblr post lol also big thank you to @bratkook​ and @onherwings​ for letting me ramble on about this fic and reigniting my inspo for it 💛

( p.s. i tried to proofread this but if y’all see any typos no u didn’t, thank u <3 )

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one time for the present, two time for the past ♪

JIMIN, TAEHYUNG & JUNGKOOK

CK DUO 😏

The Stand-In (M)

⟶ Summary | Gaining the courage to leave a loveless marriage was hard enough, but is it really a good idea to run to your best friend for help? And would you refuse him when he offers you another kind of ‘help’ when you need it?

⟶ Character | Namjoon x reader

⟶ Genre | Friends to Lovers!au, Failed Marriage!au, Post Divorce!au, Smut, Angst

⟶ Word count | 16.634 words

⟶ ↳ Ratings & Warning | +18 / M for Mature; including: alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriages, surprise babies, profanities/swearing, failed marriage, mention of divorce and family drama, emotional abuse implied (in flashbacks), involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, sexual deprivation, body sensitivity, mentions of one night stand, usage of sex toys, masturbation (F), oral sex (F, M), deep-throating, hair pulling (F, M), light spanking, clit play, breast play, grinding, biting, thigh riding, marking, fingering (F), dirty talk, praise kink, body worship, rough sex, edging, orgasm control/denial, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple orgasms, overstimulation. 

⟶ The Stand-In: fic masterlist 

⟶ Main Masterlist | Mailbox | Taglist | Feedback | Ko-fi

⟶ Author’s Note | I know that I’ve talked about this fic a lot in the past, but I kept pushing it back because I keep on changing it as I go. I nearly decided to just let this idea go when I was giving up on it, but then I changed my mind and opened the draft again in celebration of Namjoon’s birthday. It might be a bit late to have this posted, but here it is, my birthday piece for Kim Namjoon. Happy (belated) Birthday, Namjoon!

“Welcome.”

You have just gotten through a terrible flight, hours of traffic jams, and an emotional rollercoaster that seemed like it would never meet its end. For the past three months, you have felt like the world was closing in on you and everyone was against you.

Even when you were the one hurting.

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that's just tuesday over here

day 64/547 until joon returns