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Yeeessss, finally my ship sailing😭. Now I can sleep peacefully😌😆. I can't believe that this series ended now🥺 you're an amazing writer😍🫶. Thank you so much for sharing this wonderful series with us, can't wait for your other story to come out🩵🩷

BACKBURNER // LAST PART (Version 2)

DESCRIPTION: She had grown tired of being on his back burner, the person that he had kept warm until he gotten the girl he has had his eyes set on for years... And with a little help from her friend, maybe... just maybe she'll finally be the first choice. PAIRING: Seungcheol x Reader | Mingyu x Reader GENRE: Angst & Fluff PART 4 | LAST PART - VERSION 1 | SERIES MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

She had quit months ago.

He actually was the one that had urged her to do so, making it a point to shame her each time he had caught even a hint of the stale scent lingering on her clothes or skin.

It was a nasty habit she had picked up during her last year of college – craving the thin white cylinder after a night out of drinking. He left her alone at first, at times taking a drag from the cigarette in between her fingers to prolong the buzz of the alcohol coursing through his body.

Unlike her, he was able to quit quite easily – cold turkey.

He had just woken up one day and decided the toxicity was too much for him and he just .... stopped.

Y/n was doing so well, opting to chew gum when she began craving her method of stress reliever; but tonight was her one moment of weakness.

After Seungcheol had left her and Mingyu's room, she attempted to distract her thoughts of doubt and panic by scrolling on her phone and when it wasn't enough, she tried sleeping.

She tossed and turned in her bed for the fifth time when she decided it was no use, kicking off her duvet and bounding to the ABC store across their hotel to purchase a pack of reds.

Mingyu had yet to return from the gym; and truth be told, she was glad.

She didn't want to face him – not while she couldn't even look at herself in the mirror.

Y/n had grown frustrated by her thoughts that seemed to attack her instead of properly creating coherent ideas – coming to a conclusion that she had been the root of all her problems.

If she had just listened to Mingyu and Minghao's warnings when Seungcheol had first swiped up on one of her stories, sending her heart eyes instead of properly complimenting her, she wouldn't be in this situation in the first place.

And if she had just listened to the one logical voice in her head when Mingyu had suggested to fake date, she would have been able to actually get over Seungcheol – as opposed to landing her in a situation in which she and her best friend kissed.

Possibly ruining their friendship.

Though, he seemed to pay no mind to it.

And maybe that's why it bothered her so much.

He was so nonchalant.

"That's a nasty habit you got there." Minghao's voice brought her back down to earth as he joined her in the darkness of the designated smoking area of the hotel – an unlit cigarette in between his lips.

Exhaling a cloud of smoke through her nose, she let out a small laugh – handing him the white lighter she had been toying with in her hand.

He was the only one Mingyu hadn't been able to persuade into quitting. Though, he did cut down significantly; smoking only a few days out of the week.

"Don't tell him." She took a long drag.

It was sarcasm.

Mingyu would be able to tell the second he stepped into the room; he had a nose of a blood hound and knew her signature scent in a crowded room. Her smell of sweet pea and vanilla will be over powered by the grey haze.

She'll worry about his reaction later.

"Why are you out here? Something happened?" He knew her well enough that she wouldn't be smoking for no reason.

The last time he had last seen her with a cigarette in between her lips was after her first day of working in the NICU – venting to him and Mingyu that pushing on to keep her parents happy with following their wishes of her being a nurse was a mistake.

She had nearly smoked a quarter of his pack that day, Mingyu having to pry the carton from her hands; convincing her to accompany them to get dinner instead.

The two spent the rest of the night telling outlandish tales of their most recent Tinder dates to distract the girl, keeping her mind off of her desire to put in her two weeks and wallow in self pity.

"Plenty." Y/n licked her lips, not knowing where to begin.

The two were never shy of sharing their deepest thoughts with one another. They had spent many nights dissecting their minds in her best friend's apartment. She always did cherish how brutally honest he was, not caring to sugarcoat any of his opinions and advices – and she did the same.

"Seungcheol told me he chose me." The nicotine that once gave her a dull buzz felt like a full vibration the second she uttered his name, almost as if it was a forbidden word.

Minghao simply nodded, his bottom lip jutting out.

She kept her eyes trained on the stick that had burned halfway, nestled between her pointer and middle finger.

"But Mingyu and I kissed." Y/n said in almost a whisper; recalling to the warmth of his delicate touch on her cheek and how perfectly their lips fit together. "Made out, actually."

He remained unfazed, nodding once again. "You're confused."

He read her like an open book. He was always good at reading people; some sort of witchcraft probably.

"The reason why I agreed to this shit in the first place was because of Seungcheol. I wanted to be his– but when he told me– when he said he chose me." She put the cigarette back up to her lips. "All I could think about was Mingyu."

She thought she would have been happy to hear him say those words.

"It's you. I chose you."

The person who she was a few months ago would have leapt in Seungcheol's arms without a second thought; happy that she was finally his.

But the change happened so slowly that not even she felt it. The air had shifted without even noticing it; she had slipped from him... and straight into Mingyu's arms.

Y/n had allowed Seungcheol to spill his guts right in front of her, frozen in her spot – unable to muster a single word except an "okay". He had ambushed her the same way she had done during that god forsaken night at his apartment.

She knew he expected more, leaving her room with his shoulders low. Y/n had also expected more from herself; but she wasn't able to complete a single sentence.

The only thing running in her mind was the kiss she had shared with her best friend hours ago. The one that had provided her a new sense of calm, almost as if her world had stopped the second his lips touched hers.

"Are you saying you have feelings for him?"

Mingyu.

"I don't know."

"What do you know?" He pried.

Minghao was always good at asking questions to allow her to properly sort through the mess in her head – simplifying her thoughts.

"I know that this has been the happiest I've been in a while." Y/n began.

Maybe it was the island, hypnotizing them with the warm sun and the surge of dopamine that their false reality that it had provided them during their trip. Or maybe it was the fact that Seungcheol hadn't rattled her brain in a while, Mingyu giving her the distraction she needed.

"I know that I agreed to pretend to date Mingyu for Seungcheol." She went on. "But I also know that it no longer feels like it's for Seungcheol."

In the beginning, their actions were calculated – each one of their instagram posts and fake dates were all for a targeted audience. The two didn't dare cross any lines, keeping a close eye on the end game they both wished to achieve.

The past few days, it seemed as though the line had become quite blurry; especially for her. At first, she thought it was simply because she was finally getting used to the forced close proximity she and Mingyu put themselves in.

She didn't dare bat an eye to all the small moments where he seemed to dote on her, meeting all the needs she didn't think needed to be met. Because it was all things he had done before.

Except now, she was starting to look a little too hard into all his actions.

And it was all because of that fucking kiss.

All those times he answered all her silent questions, making sure there was always a smile on her face, the small gestures, his attention to the minor details of her daily life... They now had her double guessing. All because the man she could have sworn she wanted all this time, had never once dared to do any of it all.

If Mingyu had attempted to kiss her before, at the beginning of their arrangement, she would have pushed him off. She would have given him an earful for even trying to lean in.

A second into his lips locking with hers, she found herself melting into his touch – almost as if her body had been waiting for that moment.

She could have sworn he wanted it as well, being the one to initiate it. He was the one that deepened the kiss, gently pulling her face closer to his – as if she could get any closer than she already was.

Y/n couldn't help but feel a bit conflicted when Mingyu had chosen to dismiss it as if it was just another normal occurence between them; her insecurities slightly feeding into the thought of her just being as one of the girls on his roster.

The feelings she once had for him during their high school days slowly began to bubble back up, remembering all the times she caught herself staring at him in class – wishing he could open his eyes and fall for the girl he called his best friend.

It was a small crush.

And who knows, maybe this could just be her younger self finally fulfilling her life long dream of being with the boy that had helped her with her algebra homework – consoling her as she cried at his dinner table when she couldn't understand why the alphabet was needed to be added into a math problem.

She was .... very confused.

This was all supposed to be about Seungcheol, and now she was wishing he had never come into their room in attempts to make peace.

"Why don't you sleep on it?" Minghao suggested.

"I tried. That's why I'm out here smoking this damn thing." Y/n scoffed at her actions.

She always did hate how easily she reverted back to her unhealthy habits, especially when she had finally made progress.

Minghao opened his mouth before shutting it back again, hesitating if he should even tell her the conversation he had overheard earlier in the day. He had always gossiped with her in Mingyu.

But this wasn't something simple as finding out that his coworker was cheating on his wife with someone else in their department, or the fact the Hansol took Mingyu's little sister out on a date last month.

No, this could drastically change the group's dynamic. It was all so messy.

More importantly, he was always a firm believer of allowing his friends the freedom of making their choice – not wanting to meddle in the possibility of ruining their chances of them learning their lessons.

He was sadistic like that.

Warning Mingyu about how messy fake dating didn't count – he was an idiot and he wanted to save himself from hearing more about how in love he was with y/n all while she was too blind to see it all.

"If I tell you something about Sunhee and Cheol, will it make the organization of your thoughts easier?"

The thing was, Minghao was holding on to a key information that he was itching to spill out. And he was, eventually.... He just didn't think Seungcheol was stupid enough to approach y/n the same day.

He under estimated how his friend's brain operated.

He wasn't supposed to overhear the conversation between the two, but it wasn't his fault they had chosen to have an argument in public – all while he on the other side of the bushes taking pictures of the scenery before him.

Y/n nodded for him to continue. "Shoot."

"Look, they fought earlier." His voice low, as if there could be any one else that could over hear them in the empty smoking area. "He wanted her. He told her it's her he wanted and she blew him off."

She let out a laugh in disbelief, shaking her head.

Of course. Of fucking course.

Y/n wasn't the first choice.

She was still and will always come before Sunhee. He had chosen her because the girl he wanted had given him the hard no.

She thought she would be heartbroken, but instead a new emotion had overtaken her – something that she hadn't once felt towards him.

All of a sudden, y/n began to see red.

Seungcheol had only wanted to make peace because he had nothing else left, and he thought she was stupid enough to fall right back into his trap.

Why did she ever think he'd ever see her as anything else but a seat filler? It was as if Minghao casted a spotlight an all of Seungcheol's actions – shedding light on all those moments she had chosen to turn a blind eye to.

The relationship she had always wished for, the small sweet moments she and Seungcheol shared were nothing but supercuts – a collection of good memories that seemed to have over powered all the others that had left her broken.

All the times he had left her hanging, forgetting the promised dates, leaving her messages on read, and endless nights of nothing but tears came flooding back – and instead of sadness and pain, she felt anger.

How had she let it get this far?

"I know that you're hanging on to the possibility of him changing– and who knows, maybe one day he will. But it's definitely not now." Minghao shook his head.

"You know he told me he wanted to do it right. He said he wanted to earn my trust." She let out a laugh. "God, he's so– He's–"

"An idiot? Dumbass? Asshole?"

"All of the above." She walked over to the metal bowl, putting her cigarette out – digging it into the accumulated ash.

"Sleep on it, yeah?" Minghao called out as she continued her journey to the entrance of the lobby.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

The sound of the curtains opening, the warm rays of the morning sun hitting her face caused her to stir in her sleep, slowly blinking her eyes open – a blurry Mingyu digging in suitcase was the first thing she was greeted by.

She had been asleep when he had arrived back from the gym – not bothering to wake her to notify her that he had brought back the chips she had requested. Opting to place it by the night stand that had divided their beds.

"Morning." She croaked, sinking deeper into the mattress.

Turning his head, he nodded at her before going back to searching for a shirt and swim trunks.

It was their last day before the wedding festivities began and he had under estimated the amount of garments he needed to pack for the trip – despite her warnings of packing extra outfits "just in case".

"You smell." He mumbled.

Mingyu had caught a hint of the stale odor when he had entered the room last night – a scent that had grown accustomed to as it lingered in his apartment balcony due to his roommate's need to fill his lungs with the grey smoke every once and while.

"I– uh, yeah." She didn't bother coming up with an excuse, nor did she have the energy to fight it.

Just as Minghao suggested, Y/n decided to sleep in it. There was no need to make a decision anyways, it wasn't like Mingyu felt the same way – and it wasn't like she had given Seungcheol the final answer.

The only conclusion she had reached was that she was tired. She no longer wanted to be in the middle of a mess due to relationships. More importantly, not the ones that had left her second guessing.

She and Mingyu agreed that their little game of charades would end by the end of the trip, and she would leave it at that. She'll worry about whatever feelings he had unearthed when they got back to the mainland; when the blanket of false reality that covered their friendship has been lifted.

And with the Minghao spilling the truth about Seungcheol's sudden decision to make his pick between her and Sunhee, she knew that she could no longer tolerate him and his little games. Not anymore.

Not when she no longer feels the same way she did months ago.

"Everything okay?" He kept his back turned, almost as if he was afraid to meet her eyes.

"Yeah, just– my brain is a little loud again." Her eyes was trained on his back.

He nodded, setting his choice of outfit for the day down atop of the rest of his folded garments before turning to face her. "Want to let me in?"

Chewing on the skin inside her cheek, y/n sat up in her bed; crossing her legs. He took this as an invitation to take seat where her legs had once taken space.

"If it's about–"

"Seungcheol talked to–" The two began simultaneously, pausing when they both heard one another speak over each other's voice

"You go first." He motioned for her to continue.

Truth be told, he wanted to be left in the dark. Mingyu didn't want to know what had gone down in their room when Seungcheol paid a visit.

Not when he already knows what she was about to say.

He had unfortunately run into Seungcheol in the hallway the night before, his friend giving him the heads up that he had finally made a choice.

Not only that, but he had requested for his assistance.

To allow him to make a move on y/n, to be exact.

Mingyu felt sick to his stomach the remainder of the night, unable to properly work out with Joshua and Soonyoung at the hotel's gym due to Seungcheol's voice ringing in his ears.

"I get it. I'm not your top pick for her, but– I need you to help me."

Mingyu was well aware they had agreed to end their arrangement by the end of the trip, he was completely fine with it. Up until Seungcheol had made him realize that this reality was fast approaching.

Not only that but the fact that he would lose all chances with her completely. As if he even had any chance, judging by her reaction from their sweet moment atop the jeep yesterday – chances were slim to none.

Seungcheol was the reason as to why they were pretending, after all. He made his decision and it was the one she had been waiting for.

All her hopes and dreams of having a relationship with Seungcheol was finally going to come true.

"Seungcheol told me he picked me." Y/n swallowed.

He didn't dare blink or react to the words that had left her lips.

And she couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed by his lack of emotions.

"That's good, right?"

God, someone just shoot him right now.

She shrugged. "Want to hear the kicker?"

He nodded for her to go on.

"Minghao overheard him telling Sunhee that he wanted to be with her just hours before he came and talked to me."

There was the expression she was looking for.

All the theories, the conclusions that he jumped to, were proven wrong.

His brows furrowed, the corner of his lips curling. He was angry.

"You're joking."

Y/n shook her head, letting out a small laugh. It was a pity laugh.

"You know what, fuck him." Mingyu rolled his eyes. "Had the fucking nerve to ask me to allow him to–"

"What?"

"What?" Mingyu replied quickly, realizing he had let his emotions overtake him – spilling his interaction with Seungcheol just minutes for he had entered their room.

"What did he ask you?"

Sighing, knowing that there was no way she was going to let it go. "I ran into him on the way to the gym. He told me all about his plans– God– I believed him. He seemed so sincere. He– "

Groaning to herself, Y/n leaned back against the headboard. "Stink, I'm so tired."

He looked at the girl, his eyes softening at the sight of her in pure defeat. His heart ached to see the girl he had been pining for, raising the white flag after the constant emotional beating she had received from Seungcheol.

Especially when he knows he could treat her far better.

"Come on," He reached to pull her up by her arm. "Just a two more days and you wont ever have to see him. I'll– I'll make sure he doesn't come anywhere near you."

"Thank you."

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She scoffed at his acts. Watching as he laid his towel down in between Joshua and Jeonghan, actively avoiding Sunhee.

Seungcheol made it a point to make eye contact with her whilst he did this, almost as if it was his way to tell her that he was staying true to his words from the night before.

Y/n continued to apply the tanning lotion on her bare skin as the rest of the group happily helped themselves to the spam musubi Seungcheol had so generously bought just before they had all met at the beach – mumbling "It's warm this time." only for her to hear when he had set it down.

She couldn't believe it, but his efforts made her feel sick.

"Want some?" Mingyu asked, offering her a bite of the rice wrap.

Y/n shook her head. "Kinda craving an acai bowl, if I'm being honest."

Mingyu knew she had declined because it was purchased by Seungcheol and not because of the reason she had just said. He didn't dare press on the open wound, allowing for her to sit in silence as they listened to Seungkwan babble on about the prank Soonyoung and Chan had pulled on him earlier this morning.

The two boys had managed to get a copy of Seungkwan's room key from the front desk, ambushing him at the crack of dawn – putting on an act as if he had over slept and had missed the wedding. He had been so exhausted from the past few days, half asleep as he allowed for the false sense of panic from his two friends to trick him into getting dressed in his suit.

The group had doubled in laughter as Soonyoung jumped in, claiming that Seungkwan was nearly finished with buttoning his white long sleeve when he had realized it was all a joke.

"I never thought I would hear 'asshole, fuckers, sons of bitches, loser low lives' all in one sentence." Chan laughed, hitting the sand.

Joshua clutched his stomach, wiping the moisture from his eyes. "Oh my god, ow."

"Idiot." Mingyu laughed, shaking his head.

"I miss having us all together." Jeonghan hummed as the laughter subsided, leaning back on his elbows. "We should have more destination weddings."

"Not everyone is bleeding money like you, Han." Joshua snickered.

"Seungcheol is." He countered. "Doubt he'll marry soon, though."

"Pretty sure our only hope is Mr. Finance Bro and Ms. Nurse over here." Seokmin gestured over to Mingyu and Y/n – with their joint income, there was no second guessing they'd be able to ensure an all expense paid trip for the whole group.

"Yeah, if she doesn't break up with me." Mingyu snorted.

He was planting seeds in their heads for their inevitable end.

Y/n bit back the frown that threatened to form in her lips, not wanting any of it all to stop.

Stupid fucking kiss.

"Thin ice buddy." She joked, playfully shoving him.

They were playing a role, after all.

"Please, as if you two could find a better match for each other." Jeonghan rolled his eyes. "We've all been placing bets since junior year."

That caught the two's attention, Mingyu choking on a single grain of rice; nearly turning red from coughing.

Unbeknownst to the two, their friend group had been conspiring behind their backs – exchanging knowing glances with one another whenever the two bickered.

They claimed that they bickered like an old married couple, and it would only be a matter of time before they decide to resolve their small argument with a kiss.

Y/n disguised her shock with laughter, reaching over to pat Mingyu's back in attempts to soothe him. She didn't know how much more new revelations her poor brain can take.

This was not helping her thoughts, whatsoever.

"Don't act too surprised." Jeonghan laughed. "Speaking of, if I remember clearly, Seungkwan and Hansol you guys owe me $200 each. I take Zelle or Apple Pay."

"Doesn't your bank account have enough zeroes?" Seungkwan sassed.

"A bet is a bet."

"That we made years ago!" He cried.

Thankfully, the boys had decided to drop the subject – going on about the remaining few hours of their day lounging about on the sand.

Y/n had pulled her sunglasses over her eyes, shielding her from the sun and Seungcheol's lingering stares. It was almost as if he was waiting for any chance to speak to her, at times joining in on any conversation that had involved her or Mingyu.

It was stark difference to how he had previously been acting towards them in the past few days, joking around with no trace of his snarky tone or snide comments.

Mingyu chose to go along with change of attitude in his so-called friend, keeping his act going strong – as if Y/n hadn't told him about his sneaky plans of getting her back.

Don't get him wrong, it angered him. If he had it his way, Mingyu would have confronted Seungcheol in a heartbeat.

Maybe even landing a punch.

But he also knew it wasn't the right time or place, not when it has been years since the whole group was complete.

The girl laying next to him on the other hand had made her emotions quite obvious to Seungcheol; purposely avoiding his eyes when it was his turn to speak and choosing to pretend to not hear any of his attempts to spring up a conversation.

"Play nice." Mingyu mumbled only for her to hear as he leaned back on his elbows, going down to her level.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She smiled sweetly. Her way of feigning innocence to her recent actions.

Chuckling, Mingyu couldn't help but playfully pinching the tip of her nose; scrunching at his touch. "Watch out, they might catch you being a raging bitch."

"I still don't know what you're talking about." She hummed.

Mingyu had to fight yet another urge to lean down and plant a kiss on her lips, finding her a little too cute with as she continued with her oscar winning act.

Biting his lip, he sat back up on his towel – their distance had become quite dangerous for his liking and he didn't want another repeat of yesterday. "Gonna go play with the guys, wanna come?"

Glancing at the half empty row of towels, Y/n let out a sigh. She wasn't in the mood to be tossed by the waves that were currently crashing on to the shore – but it was far better than being left behind with Jihoon, who she barely knew, Joshua, and Seungcheol.

"Fuck it." She sat up, taking Mingyu's hand that had stretched out in front of her – helping her up off of the ground.

He didn't let go.

And she was more than happy with allowing his fingers interlock with hers as they made their way to the water.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

She had gone ahead of Mingyu, leaving him behind the small dining hall Jeonghan and Eunji had held their rehearsal dinner at – her social battery blinking at 0%.

Y/n felt the shapewear she had worn under her dress dig into her stomach, the strap of her heels cutting into her toes – she needed to change out of into a much more comfortable attire.

It wasn't like there was much else for her to do down there anyways; most of the family and friends that had been invited to the small gathering have retreated back to their rooms not too long before she had excused herself.

She knew if she stayed any longer, she'd just get talked into drinking more mixed drinks with the few that had stayed behind – and she wasn't really in the mood to have a hangover during the wedding.

Y/n could see her hotel room door, when she heard footsteps fast approaching behind her.

It was almost like a trauma response, she immediately knew that pace of walk – speed walk to be exact.

Seungcheol.

God, when will it end?

Turning to greet him, she was caught by surprise to see that he had closed their distance quite significantly – standing only a foot away from her.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked, breathlessly.

He wasted no time slipping out of the hall when he had noticed she had bid her goodnight – following her up to their floor.

"What are you talking about?" Y/n deadpanned, pretending to not understand his sudden question.

"I–you've been avoiding me all day." Though she wasn't being too discreet with her actions, she didn't exactly think he would be able to catch on to it.

He never did paid attention to her before, anyways.

Apart from her active decision to give him the cold shoulder earlier at the beach, Y/n had successfully done the same during the rehearsal dinner.

She had kept her eyes on everywhere else but him, even going as far as leaving the glass of wine he had so kindly retrieved for her at the bar – claiming the one glass she had finished was enough.

Only for her to take sips of Mingyu's whisky the remainder of the night. He didn't care to protest, offering her the glass after he would take a swig himself.

"I thought we were on the same page." Seungcheol went on. "I– I said I chose you, and I'd prove it. I– you said okay."

Y/n didn't dare fight the urge to roll her eyes, his face flashing a look of confusion at her sudden hostility. "Do you think I'm that stupid?"

"Wha– what's going on?" He looked around, as if it was some hidden camera prank – waiting for a crew to jump out and surprise him.

"Minghao overheard you two at the ranch. He told me everything."

Silence.

He was dumbfounded and she was not even a bit shocked that he seemed to have lost his ability to speak.

She knew that he didn't think she would ever find out about what had happened between him and Sunhee – and judging by his reaction, he was never planning on telling her.

"You didn't choose me." Y/n scoffed. "Sunhee rejected you."

"What difference does that make?"

Y/n felt the blood under her skin begin to grow hot.

He was so fucking dense.

"You don't get it, do you?" She took a step towards him; Seungcheol nervously swallowing as she closed in on him. "You didn't choose me because you wanted me. You wanted a seat filler, a replacement. I'm not going to be your backup plan because your original one failed. I'm not going to be that girl anymore."

Anymore.

"Wha– oh my god... you fell for him, didn't you?" The light bulb in his head had turned on. "You're blowing me off because of him. You know he's not going to treat you any better–"

"Than what? You?" Y/n interjected, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I mean, you said it." Seungcheol shrugged, that stupid cocky smirk playing on his lips – that same one that had been painted on his face during their first few days on the island.

She began to feel the beat of her heart thump against her chest, the anger consuming her. He knew how to get under her skin, and he knew how to do it well.

He had been caught red handed and she knew he wasn't going down with a fight.

And neither was she.

"Being with him made me realize that the time I had spent with you was nothing but a waste of my time."

"You know it's not real right? When we get back home, he'll go back to his old ways."

His old ways.

Back to the line of girls that had waited for a chance with him.

The smirk on his lips grew larger as he watched his words get into her head, knowing that he had struck a nerve. "He's just like me, Y/n. You may not choose me, but running to him won't serve you any better."

"Fuck you." Y/n gritted her teeth, clenching her fists at her side as she fought back the tears of frustration that threatened to fall from her eyes.

She hated that any hint of anger made her cry.

And God, was she fuming.

"You have, multiple times." He raised his brows. "Remember?"

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Her hand was far quicker than her brain. It wasn't until her palm collided with his cheek that she had fully processed what she had done.

It was long over due and it felt good.

"Whoa, what's going on here?" Mingyu's voice called from the end of the hall – quickly running over to where the two stood. He had slowly made his way out of the elevator when he heard the loud smack echo through the walls – sobering him in an instant.

Mingyu had wedged himself between the two, using one arm to move y/n's body behind his. He wasn't too sure what had taken place, or what had prompted the loud sound – but he knew it wasn't anything good.

Nothing Seungcheol was involved with has ever equated to the word "good".

"I think it's time for you to go to your room, Cheol." His voice firm, towering over the man in front of him.

Seungcheol didn't need to be told twice, scoffing as he turned his heel towards the other side of the corridor.

"Are you okay?" Mingyu's eyes wide as he faced her, placing both hands on either side of her shoulders as he scanned her. "Did he hurt you?"

Y/n shook her head as the pads of his thumb wiped away the remaining tears on her face. "I slapped him."

"Oh." Mingyu paused.

"He– I can't believe I defended him for so long." She sniffled.

A wave of embarrassment crashed into her as she recalled all the times she had made excuses for all his actions like her life depended on it. She could have sworn the man she had initially fell for was not the same one she had just faced, unable to fully wrap her mind around what had just taken place.

"Everyone makes mistakes." Mingyu used the sleeve of his button down to wipe her nose, earning a laugh from the girl.

"I don't have snot, you idiot." Y/n lightly smacked his arm away.

"I know." He laughed. "Just wanted to make you smile."

Seungcheol was wrong. Though they had shared some similarities, Mingyu was nowhere near like him.

Especially not when it came to her.

Mingyu had and will always treat her delicately. He would never dare say or do anything to hurt her.

Like he said a few days back, he'd do anything for her happiness.

Getting over him may just be far more painful that getting over Seungcheol.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

To say the setting was beautiful was an understatement; the grassy lawn of the hotel had been transformed to any bride's dream.

Various kinds of white flowers lined the rows and the altar, creating a sight that only a girl could have imagined and pinned on her pinterest board.

Y/n's breath had been taken away when she had first taken a seat, snapping a few pictures before they were instructed to put all their devices away for an unplug ceremony.

She couldn't help but be in awe as the each second passed, shedding a few tears when she had caught a glimpse of Jeonghan's lips quivering at the sight of Eunji making her way down the aisle.

"Jeonghan," Eunji spoke into the mic, taking her turn to profess her vows in front of their guests; a wide grin on her face. "People often talk about how difficult relationships are and I happily can say that I can't relate to them. I get that relationships takes a lot of work, but being with you have never felt like this. It's like I clocked into a shift with my favorite coworker. Our days have always been filled with laughter, the only tears you've ever brought me were when you would make those stupid silly jokes that I love so much. They say love is hard but our love has been the easiest part of my life. And I guess, it's because you have made it so easy. You're not only my life partner but my best friend and I can't wait to start this new chapter of our life together. Today, as I stand here in front of our families and friends, I Park Eunji take you Yoon Jeonghan as my lawfully wedded husband."

While everyone clapped, some wiping away their tears, Y/n couldn't help but let here eyes stray to the line of groomsmen that stood behind Jeonghan — her eyes meeting Mingyu's who has had his eyes trained on her even before Eunji began her vows.

Everything Eunji had described about Jeonghan was what y/n had come to realize about Mingyu two days ago. That easy love, those days filled with laughter, the silly jokes – they were all connecting back to Mingyu.

Y/n had always thought that when someone was in love, they felt butterflies in their stomach – creating a restless buzz each time they were near the person they were destined to be with.

She had mistaken the lack of butterflies whenever she was around Mingyu as her not actually having any feelings for him – but simply being caught up in their act of faux lovers.

This whole time, it was because he brought a new sense of calm upon her. She had been in a constant state of fight or flight for such a long time that she failed to realize that he was the only one that could pull her out of it all the chaos that surrounded her.

He was the calm after the storm – hurricane to be exact.

Sending her a wink from where he stood, Mingyu couldn't help but crack a smile as she returned it.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

They were both returning from the bar, each with a drink in hand, when the sound of familiar chorus of voices blared through the speakers.

It was as if they the same thought had ran across their mind at the same time, exchanging knowing glances before letting out a soft laugh.

Baby I'm yours. And I'll be yours until the stars fall from the sky.

It was their song.

They were both well aware it was a love song, but they didn't care. It had held some weird attachment to the two, being the first song she had recommended to him when they were teenagers.

It was her poor attempts of hinting her feelings towards the boy at the time, but his undeveloped frontal lobe never put two and two together – finding the melody of the song beautiful.

She had played it countless of times around him that when he had later heard the song without her, his mind went straight to all the times she would softly hum along to the tune.

She had pavloved him.

This song would follow them throughout the years, having it's fair share of being blasted in their cars or apartments – obnoxiously dancing and singing along to the old time tune cover.

They were at their assigned table within seconds, setting their drinks down. Before she could even take a seat, Mingyu had stepped in front of her – holding his hand out.

"May I have this dance?" A playful grin on his lips.

He wasn't going to waste this perfect opportunity. It was their last night together as a couple.

Their last dance.

He was never going to have this same chance again, and he was going to make the most of it.

One last time.

"You may." Y/n laughed, taking his hand – allowing him to lead her to the center of the room, joining other paired up bodies.

"Oh gross!" Minghao pretended to gag as he took their unattended drinks – claiming it as his own.

"Yours until the poets ran out of rhyme..." Mingyu sang, spinning her.

A giggle emitted from her lips as he caught her, dipping her before they swayed like two idiots.

"I didn't get to thank you for last night." Y/n relaxed her arms around his neck.

After they had gone back to their room, he allowed her to join him in his bed – patting her back as she cried into one of his pillow. He listened until she had fallen asleep in the middle of her endless rant — rambling on and on about how stupid she was to allow Seungcheol to continuously break her heart.

Mingyu didn't dare wake her, knowing that the her emotions had taken a toll on her. Instead, he allowed Y/n to stay – making sure not to cross the metaphorical boundary he had drawn in his head as she lightly snored on the left side of the bed.

By the time she woke, he had already left the room – having joined the rest of the groomsmen for their scheduled breakfast and pre-wedding game of golf.

Not without a text notifying her of this, of course.

Not that he needed to tell her, it was out of pure courtesy.

"S'fine. I just hope the next guy you date doesn't give you a hard time." Mingyu shrugged.

He had hoped the next and final guy was him.

"Are you getting tired of wiping my tears?" She countered, playfully.

"Tired of seeing you cry over men." He corrected.

"Me too." Y/n sighed. "I think I won't date any guy until I find the same kind of love Eunji described. You know, the easy kind. The one that makes all the shitty days not seem all that bad."

She maintained her eye contact with him as she spoke — and if he had been able to read her thoughts before, he would be able to tell that she was describing him.

"It wasn't a mistake." Mingyu hoped he had guessed her unspoken words correctly. "I meant it."

He was talking about the kiss.

Y/n felt her breath hitch in her throat — coming out as a hiccup.

She had initially felt unsure about her feelings towards him — afraid that it was nothing but her mind playing tricks on her.

But she also knew him better than she knew herself. The second she had caught his stare after Eunji's vows, she had never felt more sure in her life.

He had felt the same way.

It was only a matter of how either one of them was going to bring it up.

"How long?" Y/n knew that he wasn't one to act impulsively around her — she hated surprises.

Even the good ones.

She knew that if he truly meant to kiss her, it was something that he had been thinking of for quite some time now.

"Been waiting for months now."

"Months?"

"Maybe even years." Mingyu replied with a shrug.

"Years?"

This was it. He was going to finally allow himself to tell her the same words he had recited over and over again in front of the mirror.

As the final chorus of the song began, Mingyu allowed for the singers voices to drown out all the other noises around them — his eyes blurring everything but her.

"It's always been you." Mingyu's voice was soft, his hand reaching up to tuck a loose strand behind her ear. "To me, there was never first, second, third, or fourth choice. It's you."

He looked at her in pure adoration, his brows turned down and eyes filled with stars — a look she had never seen before.

"It was you when you spent nearly every day waiting for me to finish basketball practice in high school. It was you when you stayed up all night to help me study for my econ final at the library our sophomore year in college. It was you when you rescued from a shitty dinner at my parents five months ago. It's you now and it's going to be you tomorrow, and the next day, and all the days after that."

All while she was hoping to be the first pick in Seuncheol's life, she had been the first and only in Mingyu's.

He didn't dare keep a spare — he knew no one could measure up to Y/n.

As the song wrapped up, he stepped away from her — giving her one last spin before pulling her back in. "I hope it's me too." He whispered.

Taking his hand, she guided him away from the chaos of the party and out into the stillness of patio, with the only thing to be heard was the muffled music behind the closed doors and the distant sound of the waves crashing on to the shore.

"You know, you never gave me butterflies." Y/n began.

"Did you bring me out here to rej—"

Y/n held her hand up, stopping him mid sentence. "I guess I was so used to the emotional rollercoaster that all my exes have put me through that I began mistaking that gut feeling, you know— the one that warns you that something was a bad idea— as butterflies. Whenever I'm around you, I don't feel anything in my stomach because I feel safe."

Mingyu's confusion had once again turned into adoration, practically melting into her hand as he clung onto her words.

"That easy love Eunji spoke of, the one I said I wanted. It's you." Y/n continued. "You're the easiest part of my day— hell, you're the easiest part of my life. Whenever I'm with you, I have no worries, no doubts. It took me a while but, it's yo—"

Mingyu couldn't wait any longer, he was practically bouncing on his toes before he closed the gap between them — swooping down to capture her lips with his.

"Wait—" She pulled away with a giggle. "I have more to sa—"

Mingyu shook his head, dipping back down to meet her lips. "Save it for your vows." He mumbled.

Vows.

Pulling away once again, y/n gave him a look — all while he pouted.

How many times was she going to do this?

"Wha— don't tell me you said all that with no plans on marrying me."

"Are you saying you want to marry me?" She emphasized.

Mingyu used his thumb to gesture over to where the reception was currently being held, his head tilting. "Did you not just hear what I told you on the dance floor?"

"Yeah but—"

"Exactly, so can I please kiss you now?"

"Yeah okay—Ah slow down." She held up a finger, wagging it at him. "I swear to God, Kim Mingyu if you break my he—"

"Shut up, stink." Kissing her for the third time in under five minutes — smiling as he felt her relax under his touch.

All those heartbreaks, the tears he wiped – they were finally ending.

War has ended.

Y/n was finally in the arms of the man that never dared to put a frown on her face, getting the love that she deserved.

@thepoopdokyeomtouched/ @scuzmunkie / @yunjin0 / @morkswatermelonnnn / @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan / @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken / @naturelvrgfstealer / @bettybotterboughtabitofbutter / @musingsofananxiouspotato / @f4iryjjosh / @gatorgirl007 / @girlwithimaginarybiaslist / @daisawa / @ttragiquee / @luchiet / @loveforred /@vannabanana1995 / @uniq-tastic / @porridgesblog / @haolistic / @bbl32 / @calumsfringe / @alsktudy / @chansbaybygirl / @alwaysalmostthere / @listxn / @soupbinlily / @hanniebaby95 / @yonabutnotyuna / @buffhoshi / @kawennote09 / @wwwellacom / @hanniebaby95 /

This is interesting, now I'm curious about Mingyu's pov🧐🤔, what's on his mind it's still a mystery

can't wait for all the drama to reveal😆😘. Thank you for the part 2🥰, I really love it

hi! yeah um i.. read ur newest fic 'not her' with kmg and i kind of wanted to add a continuation to that...? (only if u want to ofc!)

so basically reader got her heart broken by mingyu and her sister, soooo she goes on and vents her feelings and how heart broken she is to another one of her pals, seungcheol (without knowing seungcheol likes reader) so he comforts her and u can probably add the ending (fluff or angst or anything!)

im sorry this is too long.. i rlly tried to make it shorter lmao (btw i LUV ur fics so much)

not her pt.2 | kim mingyu - choi seungcheol

Part 1

angst, fluff,wc:2.5k

taglist: @gaslysainz ; @graybaeismytae ; @mansaaay

a/n: did i completely put mingyu aside in this part? yes. will i make a part three where we really dive into the drama with everyone kdrama love triangle way? you guys tell me hehe

You couldn't bear looking at the scene that was unfolding in front of your eyes so you gathered your stuff in a hurry and left, completely forgetting the idea of shopping for a new outfit.

You made it home in record time. Rushing to lock yourself in your room once you made it through the door.

Mingyu choosing someone else than you was one thing, but your sister going behind your back to betray you, after you had confided in her? That was a whole other thing.

You couldn't help but cry as soon as you found yourself alone in the comfort of your room. You were feeling too many things at the same time and couldn't quite pinpoint why you were crying. Was it the pain? The anger? The disappointment? The heartbreak? Maybe it was all of it at once.

You couldn't bare the idea of having to face any of them about the issue right now, let alone having to see your sister when she would get back home, so you did the first thing that came to mind : you packed an overnight bag, texted your most trustful friend and headed over to his place.

You reached Seungcheol's place about an hour after you had texted him. You hadn't told him much over text, actually you hadn't told him anything besides 'can i come spend the night?' to which he agreed, of course, he didn't need to know why you needed to spend the night over at his place when you had a perfectly decent bed of your own, he just agreed without any further questions.

He greeted you at the door with a worried look on his face that he couldn't conceal no matter how hard he tried. You've confided in him before, but never did it feel so worrying. Without a second thought, he pulled you inside with a hug. The action broke down all the walls you had tried to build on your way there instantly. You felt as if you were falling apart in his arms, melting in his embrace perhaps, and you let the tears stream down your face, not caring about the embarrassing whines coming out of your mouth as you did so. He didn't seem to care either. Because all he did was hold you, closely, firmly but carefully, rubbing soothing circles on your back, shushing you like one would do with a baby. But it all felt so right amongst all the chaos around you that you let yourself be in the moment, until he pulled you straight on your feet to lead you to the living room, "Come on, let's talk about this around a warm drink, yeah?" he said, trying his best to show off a reassuring smile.

You obliged and sat down on the couch as Seungcheol got some snacks ready along with something to drink. In the meantime you allowed yourself to relax, sunking down onto the couch wishing it could somehow swallow you whole.

Thankfully, Seungcheol joined you pretty quickly so you didn't have the time to get lost in your thoughts once again. You straightened up to grab the cup he was handing out to you from the tray he had placed on the coffee table in front of you.

"Sooooo..." Seungcheol started, he didn't want to push you into it but he still needed to at least have an idea of what was going on.

You took a sip of your drink followed by a deep breath.

"So... I had a crush on this guy, and I genuinely thought that he could like me, you know?" you tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes once again.

"And I wasn't the only one thinking this.. my sister thought so too." Seungcheol now had a curious look and urged you to keep going.

"I was supposed to meet up with him in a few days and I really wanted to confess, I really did." this time, the tears fell from your eyes, you couldn't help it, it was so fresh, so hard, your body needed to express this unbearable inner pain it was feeling.

Seungcheol offered some comfort with his free hand coming to rub up and down your arm, "We don't have to talk about it any more if you don't feel like it," he reassured you.

"No, it's okay, you affirmed, so, you started again, I wanted to make things right, I wanted to impress him, to make him like me any more than he might already do, so I went to the mall to do some shopping, a sob escaped from your dry lips, but then I saw them, him, her" you sniffled, letting out shaky breaths in an attempt to calm yourself down.

"Them ? Him? Her?" Seungcheol asked.

"My crush and my sister" you finally said, your heart breaking a little more. The look on your friend's face changed to... confusion?

"Wait so you saw your sister with your crush at the mall? What about it?

- They were kissing, Seungcheol. Kissing."

Upon hearing this last word, his expression morphed to anger in a matter of seconds.

"What the fuck?!" he suddenly exclaimed, almost slamming his mug down onto the table.

"She kissed him knowing you liked him? This is so twisted. I can't believe it." He let out in disbelief, rubbing a hand down his face.

"And he didn't tell me either. He never told me he was seeing someone. What if she told him about my crush on him and they both fucked me over? you put your face in both on your hands, crying softly, What am I supposed to do now Seungcheol?" you questioned desperately, almost pleading him for an answer.

He leaned back in his seat, looking up in thought.

"Who is he?" he finally asked.

"Who's who?" okay maybe it wasn't the best idea to play dumb, but how could you tell him that Mingyu, your friend who also happens to be one of Seungcheol's, broke your heart ?

"The guy, he said firmly, who's the guy?" ok so now he wasn't playing. You've never seen him look this serious before, the concern and anger still obvious on his face.

You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the worst when you breathed out : "Mingyu."

He clenched his fists upon hearing the name leave your shaky lips. As a matter of fact, his whole body tensed.

"So you saw Mingyu kissing your sister who knew you liked Mingyu ?" he summarized.

"Yeah.." you confirmed, your gaze lingering on the floor, the carpet curiously looking much more interesting than you friend who was sitting across from you.

"Does she know ? he asked

-Mh?

-Your sister. Does she know you saw them ?

-No, they didn't see me and I came over before she got home, so we didn't talk about it.

-And do you think he knew?

-Knew what ?

-That you liked him ?

-I don't know.. I don't think so, you reasoned, he would never be so cruel. you affirmed

-Yeah, you're probably right.." Seungcheol agreed, even though he wanted nothing but to punch his dear friend in the face for hurting you, he also knew it wasn't his style to hurt people's feelings. I mean this guy literally apologized to his last girlfriend for breaking up with her so of course he wasn't going to hurt one of his closest friends.

Seungcheol sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "This is a messed up situation, no doubt about it," he muttered, his expression reflecting a mixture of concern and anger.

You nodded, feeling a bit of relief knowing Seungcheol was there to listen, even if he couldn't magically fix everything. It was nice knowing there was at least one person you could trust in this whole mess.

After a moment of silence, Seungcheol leaned forward, taking both of your hands in his, his eyes fixed on you. "Listen, I know it hurts like hell right now, but you're stronger than this. I'm not going to tell you to not think about it because I know it feels impossible right now but you need to focus on yourself, okay ?

- Yeah.. you replied.

- What do you need right now?"

You thought for a moment, wiping away the tears that still lingered. "I just... I need some time to figure things out. Away from all of this," you said, gesturing vaguely around you.

Seungcheol nodded in understanding. "Alright. I get it. You can stay here as long as you need. I'll be here for you, okay?"

You managed a weak smile, feeling a sliver of hope, "Thank you, Seungcheol. I don't know what I'd do without you."

He smiled back, a reassuring presence in the middle of all of this turmoil. "You don't have to figure it all out right now. Just take it one step at a time. And remember, you're not alone in this." he finally said, giving your hands a reassuring squeeze.

And as you glanced over at Seungcheol, you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest, realizing just how much he truly cared for you. Perhaps, in the midst of all this chaos, there was a silver lining after all—a silver lining named Seungcheol.

"Come on, let's get you settled in bed, yeah?" he said, standing up and offering his hand out for you to take. You did so and followed him down the hallway.

As Seungcheol led you to the spare bedroom where you would be spending the night, he couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling inside him. On one hand, he was glad to be able to offer you a comfortable place to rest after everything you'd been through. But on the other hand, he couldn't shake the pang of jealousy he felt at the thought of you sleeping under the same roof in a bed that wasn't his.

As he pulled back the covers and fluffed the pillows, he tried to push aside those selfish thoughts. After all, what mattered most was that you were safe and comfortable. But as he glanced over at you, he couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked in the soft light of the bedside lamp, your eyes heavy with exhaustion yet still so full of resilience.

"Here you go," he said, gesturing to the bed. "I hope you'll be comfortable here."

You offered him a grateful smile as you sank down onto the mattress, letting out a contented sigh. "Thank you, Seungcheol. I really appreciate it."

He returned your smile, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat at the sound of your voice. "Of course. Anything for you."

As he turned to leave the room, he couldn't help but linger for a moment, his gaze lingering on your sleeping form. In that moment, he realized just how much he cared about you—more than just a friend, more than just a crush. And as he quietly closed the door behind him, he made a silent promise to himself to always be there for you, no matter what.

As you settled into the comfortable bed Seungcheol had prepared for you, your mind started to buzz with thoughts of the events that had unfolded earlier. Despite your exhaustion, sleep eluded you as you thought about your sister's and Mingyu's betrayal. A notification from your phone interrupted your thoughts, a message from your sister asking where I was, seemingly worried as to what you were up to. Against you better judgment, you decided to ignore it for the moment as you let out a heavy sigh and turned your attention to Seungcheol.

He had been so kind and supportive throughout the evening, offering you a safe haven and a shoulder to lean on. His actions spoke volumes, and somehow you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more behind his gestures. The way he looked at you, the tenderness in his voice—it all hinted at a deeper connection between you. And as you drifted off into a restless sleep, you couldn't shake the feeling that perhaps Seungcheol's feelings for you ran deeper than mere friendship.

After ensuring that the spare bedroom was tidy and comfortable for you, Seungcheol made my way to the living room to clean up the mess from earlier. As he picked up discarded snack wrappers and empty mugs, his mind also ended up wandering to the events of the evening.

He couldn't shake the anger and frustration he felt towards Mingyu for hurting you, someone he cared deeply about. And yet, amidst the chaos, he couldn't deny the flutter of hope that sparked within him at the thought of being there for you, of being the one you turned to in her time of need.

As he finished cleaning up, he reached for his phone and sent a quick text to Mingyu, his fingers hesitating over the keys. Despite his anger towards him, a part of him couldn't help but wonder if this was his chance to finally confess his feelings to you. But as he stared at the blank screen, he couldn't bring myself to send the message. Instead, he pocketed his phone and made his way back to the spare bedroom, his heart heavy with uncertainty and longing.

As Seungcheol lay in bed, the weight of the evening's events heavy on his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to the situation than met the eye.

As he mulled over the possibilities, a nagging thought tugged at the corners of his mind. What if Mingyu wasn't entirely clueless about your feelings? What if, somehow, he had sensed your affection for him, even if you hadn't explicitly confessed it?

The idea seemed far-fetched at first, but the more Seungcheol thought about it, the more it made sense. Mingyu was perceptive, after all, and he had always been attentive to the people around him. Perhaps he had noticed the subtle glances, the lingering touches, the way your face lit up whenever you were near him.

But if Mingyu was aware of your feelings, why would he pursue a relationship with your sister? Was it out of genuine interest, or was there something more sinister at play? Seungcheol couldn't shake the feeling that there was a piece of the puzzle missing, something lurking beneath the surface that he couldn't quite grasp.

As he drifted off to sleep, his mind buzzing with unanswered questions, Seungcheol's thoughts inevitably turned to you. Despite the troubles of the evening, one thing remained clear: his feelings for you ran deep. With each passing moment, his love for you only seemed to grow stronger, anchoring him amidst the storm of uncertainty.

As he vowed to uncover the truth about Mingyu's intentions, Seungcheol's resolve was fueled not only by a sense of justice for you but also by a burning desire to protect you from further harm. For he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he would do anything to ensure your happiness, even if it meant confronting his own heartache in the process.

With that thought in mind, Seungcheol closed his eyes, feeling a sense of determination wash over him. Whatever challenges lay ahead, he would face them head-on, armed with nothing but his unwavering love for you. And as sleep finally claimed him, he couldn't help but cling to the hope that, somehow, everything would turn out alright in the end.

perhaps i loved you.

content: idol! jeonghan x gn! reader, angst, fluff, past life au, coffee shop au, royalty au (just read, you’ll get it), unrequited love.

summary: a unique cafe down fifth avenue opens a whole new door of surprises for jeonghan.

word count: 1.4k

note: based this off the short exert i wrote at the end lol. totally not inspired by real life events haha… also i’m writing this at almost two in the morning please forgive any grammar or spelling mistakes.

it was cloudy. the sun peeked through the smallest crevices it could find as the wind gently brushed against jeonghan’s skin.

he shivered, pulling his green cardigan on tighter. he reached up, grabbing his white bucket hat to make sure it didn’t fly away. god knew the wind was ruthless these past few days. jeonghan felt like the world seemed to be against him.

he hummed along to his music, walking down the street in solace. the cherry blossoms bloomed magnificently, its pink petals falling to spread its beauty. he looked up, admiring the trees with a gentle smile.

there weren’t a lot of people out this time of the day and jeonghan liked that. he liked the comfort of not being recognised, being able to go about his day peacefully. the solitude was exactly what he needed.

inhaling a deep breath, he turned and continued down the street. the shops down this road were vintage. unique little thrift stores, record stores, quaint coffee shops that sold overpriced coffee— wait.

jeonghan paused, staring into the shop. olive green bookshelves lined the beige walls of the shop. behind, there was a counter with coffee machines and cake displays. at the very front of the store, there was a table. it had two chairs with a typewriter sitting on it.

a cafe? no, bookstore? or was it a vintage thrift store? confused, jeonghan looked up at the sign.

‘caffeinated literature’.

‘how peculiar,‘ jeonghan thought. glancing around, he peeked into the cafe again, noticing no one was inside. he wondered if it was closed, a slight pang of disappointment filling his chest.

however, the ‘open’ sign on the door proved him wrong. his eyes moved down, and noticed the poster on the door, prompting him to move closer and read it.

enjoy a cup of coffee,

and let me write you poetry.

welcome to caffeinated literature.

it didn’t take jeonghan another second to push the glass door open, the soft chime of the bell ringing in the air. “hello?” he called out softly.

there was a muffled crash followed by a yelp, shocking him. “hello! just give me a moment! please, take a seat!”

jeonghan sat down apprehensively, fluffing the cushion beside him. the interior was cozy, minimalistic and welcoming. swinging his feet, he continued to observe his surroundings, not realising you had emerged from behind the counter.

“hello, so sorry about that! what can i get for you today?” you panted, handing him the menu.

jeonghan looked at you in awe. your voice sounded like sweet, smooth honey that dripped slowly into a cup of warm tea. there was a sense of familiarity to you, but he couldn’t figure out what it was.

“uh, sorry,” he mumbles, snapping out of his thoughts. “i’ll just get an iced cappuccino and a poem, please.”

you grin. “great choice. i’ll be right back with your coffee, so just take a seat in tbe front,” you gesture to the table with the typewriter. he nods, getting up as you disappear behind the counter.

jeonghan feels light-headed from staring at you. something about you was so enchanting, so magical and so familiar. he sighed, annoyed that he was unable to figure out what it was.

the aroma of his coffee drifted in the air as you brought it over. he thanked you as you sat across him, smiling as he sipped on it slowly.

“oh, wow, this is really good,” he remarked, licking his lips. “thank you.”

“it’s no problem,” you say, smiling. “now, for the poem,” you gently slot the paper into the typewriter. turning around, you turn the speaker on, calm jazz music filling the cafe.

“i know this sounds rather far-fetched, but i usually hold people’s hands to get a better feel of their aura before i write their poem. do you mind if i do that with you?”

jeonghan shakes his head almost instantly. “no, not at all,” he says, extending his hands.

you smile, nodding in acknowledgement as you take his hands into yours, slowly shutting your eyes.

jeonghan shivered, and suddenly, he wasn’t in the cafe anymore.

he was now clad in formal wear, standing at the entrance to a balcony. you stood at the edge, back facing him. the moon was bright and the stars shone in the sky.

“i didn’t expect you to come,” your voice wavered. jeonghan couldn’t speak– he could not control what he did.

“i’m here now, aren’t i?” he chuckles, swirling the glass of wine in his hand. “what bothers you, my dear, on the night we are to celebrate?”

when you turn around, tears rolling down your cheeks, he freezes. you stare at him, sniffing softly. even when you’re crying, you look breath-taking to him.

averting your gaze, you sigh. “i can’t lie to you anymore, han,” you whisper. “tonight i watched you get married to the love of your life, confessing your love to each other in front of the whole kingdom,” you look up at him again.

“and now, i will confess my love to you, in front of the moon and stars.”

jeonghan is in shock. he doesn’t know how to comprehend this situation. it is all too fast, too quick– was this his past life?

“i have loved you ever since we were kids, han. my heart has held onto you tightly, refusing to let go. i’ve seen the best and the worst of you. i’ve seen all your flaws and imperfections and yet still i love you. i have been your friend, but never once did i love you like one. i loved you more than that. i would sacrifice the moon and the stars just to gaze at your beauty. i would burn the kingdom down if you wanted me to. my heart aches and yearns for your touch, your love, your heart and i know i will never get it, but i had to tell you.”

by the time you’re done, you’re panting, out of breath. jeonghan wants to rush forward and hold you, but his body stops him. there is no control.

“b-but y/n, i’m a prince and you’re a—”

“knight, i know,” you sob. “i prayed to the gods every day that my heart would let go of you because i knew i could never be yours, nor you, mine.”

jeonghan simply stood there, heart aching at the sight of you. “i am sorry, y/n. i am sorry i cannot love you the way you want me to,” he whispers, taking a step forward.

“it’s okay, han,” you say softly, tears staining your once rosy cheeks. wiping them away, you look at him with a sad smile. “it was never meant to be anyways.”

with a loud gasp, jeonghan finds himself back in cafe. he’s panting, eyes darting around vigorously before landing on you.

you were crying.

and so was he.

“sorry,” you let out an awkward laugh, wiping your tears away. “i don’t know why i’m crying,” you whisper, trying to stop yourself from crying, but the tears keep coming.

“it’s okay,” jeonghan stutters, quickly wiping his own tears. he wants to comfort you more, but he couldn’t find the words to. he felt like he didn’t deserve to.

sniffing, your fingers suddenly start to gly across the typewriter, the clicks ringing in the air. jeonghan observes you intensely, watching you throw draft after draft away. you were clearly frustrated.

finally, after his ice had melted, his coffee finished, you were done.

“sorry,” you say, removing the paper. “i had a hard time finding the right words,” you confessed as he smiled.

he looked down, reading the poem as you fidgeted with your fingers. his eyes drift across each word, heart clenching as he reached the last line.

“this is beautiful,” he says breathlessly. “thank you. i love it.”

you return the smile. “thank you for coming. i hope to see you again.”

jeonghan’s heart flutters at your words momentarily. “thank you for the coffee and poem. and who knows? perhaps i will see you again,” he chuckles before waving goodbye, pushing the glass door open as the bell chimed.

the breeze was stronger now, and jeonghan had to grab onto his hat again. with a loud sigh, he began to walk down the street, thoughts flooding his mind. it was racing, restless and utterly confused.

as he reached the end, he stopped at a traffic light, waiting for it to turn green. pulling out the piece of paper, he reread what you had written, tears forming in the corner of his eyes once again.

‘who are you,

stranger?

you look rather familiar.

perhaps i have loved you.

in another life.’

SEVENTEEN REACTION,

seventeen as “things you said” — prompts by @junhui-pop ( hehe thank you <3 ) VERY LONG !!

승철, scoups “things you said at 1am”

seungcheol is always coming home late, and it’s something you grew used to. it wasn’t something you necessarily minded, but you could never miss the guilt in his eyes when he’d come home at absurd hours of the night, trying to creep around quietly. he feels some what ashamed, the constant reschedule of dates, all the times he’s had to decline you through the phone because he’s just too busy, he can’t help but feel like he’s failed as a boyfriend. and one late night, he climbs into bed and wraps himself around you. he holds you as if you might crumble under his touch & be gone forever, and breathes your scent in with a shaky breath. “thank you,” he whispers. “for always being here, for always loving me.” and while his head is buried in your neck, you can feel a few hot tears puddle up. when you turn around, he tries to hide from you — but you hold his face in your hands and remind him, that you’ll always love him.

정한, jeonghan “things you said when drunk”

“let me tell you something,” jeonghan slurs, slumping against you with his cheek rested on the top of your head. you smirk to yourself and roll your eyes, huffing through your nose with a laugh — you prepare yourself mentally, for the 30 minutes of compliments your boyfriend is about to give you, like every other time he’s had one too many glasses of wine. jeonghan admittedly isn’t good at expressing his genuine emotions and so his drunken self always takes advantage of the confident boost the alcohol gives him. you feel jeonghan press a light kiss to the temple of your head, but you’re sure he was aiming for your cheek. “i really, really cherish you, ya’ know? you mean so much to me, so much more than i let on and i’m sorry if you- if you’re not aware of that,” he says, going between mumbles to borderline shouting. your heart flutters, his words are so much more sincere than usual. “you’re one of the best things that has ever happened to me, i love you so much.” he slurs again, but this time his voice cracks and he pulls away, his glossy eyes finding yours. you smile softly, putting your emotions to one side to drag your boyfriend to bed.

지수, joshua “things you said when you though i was asleep”

it’s the nights when he comes home late from practice, and his whole body feels drained of energy. when he creeps into the silent house, longing for his body to shut down for the night. but when he finally slips into the bed next to you, taking you into his arms — he can’t fall asleep just yet. he ends up admiring you, his heavy eyes fighting off sleep, just so they can drink in your beauty for a few more minutes. he soaks in the feeling of your skin against his. he admires you as much as he can through the pale moonlight that leaks into the bedroom through the curtains, and his heart thuds. he thinks, simply ponders, about how truly precious you are to him. he kisses you once, and he prays that he can do this forever. he can’t help it, dipping down to kiss you once more, as he mumbles to your unconscious state, “please stay with me, for as long as there as stars in the sky.” and he thinks that’s it, and that he can finally settle down — but he catches your lips curl into a smile, eventually a grin and your eyes flutter open. joshua’s face burns in the pure embarrassment of being caught, but when giggles leave your lips, and you tell him how sweet he is, he smiles too.

준휘, junhui “things you said with too many miles between us”

jun hadn’t expected that he’d miss you this much, to the point that he could feel his heart physically clench at every longing thought of you. eventually, phonecalls and voice notes weren’t enough. he needed to hold you, it was like an itch buried deep in his body; that he wasn’t able to reach. every night, every call, you’d count down the days, and sometimes even the minutes and hours that you’d be together again. you watched day by day, the way his eyes grew duller and the way his tone became less enthusiastic, he didn’t even want to talk about his day anymore, he just wanted to see you. he tried to keep it bottled up, but everyone has a point where they break and snap, and fall apart completely. you watched silently, mouth agape, as jun sobbed weakly into his hands. for a few minutes; he couldn’t even form a single coherent sentence and all you could do was watch through a screen. “it’s so hard,” he sniffles, when he calms down. “it’s been months, i just want to see you, i’m sorry i’m barely home, i’m really sorry, i really miss you.” he rambles at some point, but you nod your head attentively to every single word, and when he’s done talking, you lean closer to the camera to remind him of how little time left there is until you see him again.

순영, hoshi “things you said with no space between us”

it wasn’t unusual you found yourself pressed under your boyfriend, both his arms rested either side of you as his face hovers merely a few centimetres above yours, his lips brushing against your own with every soft spoken word. you found it amusing, as hoshi had once told you: ‘what’s mine is yours and what’s yours is mine’ but by that you hadn’t thought he meant your own personal space too. but, you really adored the man, so it was never a problem when he’d find his way over to you, pressing you so close to him that your bodies may merge into one. he loves you so much, so much that the fear of losing you at any given moment consumes him fully, twists and knots his stomach violently. and he just needs to hold you, cage you in his arms, to reassure himself that you’re there with him, even if it’s just temporary. but he doesn’t like temporary, he needs you to stay with him. he retracts his head from the crook of your neck, and his eyes immediately find yours. “you’re precious to me, so precious. i’ll do anything to keep you here with me forever.” he says, out of nowhere, and it catches you off guard. you find the anxiousness swimming in his eyes, and your hand cups his cheeks, you reassure him, there’s nothing he needs to do — you’ll stay forever anyways.

원우, wonwoo “things you never said”

he thinks it’s always entertaining to look after you when you’ve had one too many drinks. when he collects you from your friends house and you’re strapped to his arm, your legs barely being able to walk while he giggles to himself. when you’re in the car, your hands reaching to touch his face, truly mesmerised at his beauty — and he has to gently slap your arms away, laughing at you to stop distracting him. when he sits you down in bed and helps you change into your clothes and takes a makeup wipe to your face, running the cloth over your face as you mumble that he’s a true angel from heaven, and he rolls his eyes with a smirk. it’s not unusual for drunk-you to drown him in affectionate words, and so when you’re laid in bed together, his arms holding you close to him as your head rests against his chest, you’re slurring out all kinds of compliments and they all kinda fall deaf to his ears, all but one. “you know, you’re the only guy i’ve ever thought about marrying.” you tell him sleepily, your eyes fluttering shut. wonwoo’s heart almost stops instantaneously. he considers it, telling you that you’re the only person he can picture himself marrying too. but he decides against it, he’ll save that for another time.

지훈, woozi “things you said too quietly”

if there was one thing jihoon wishes he could do better, it’d be expressing his emotions. he’s awkward and stiff when he tries to explain what he really feels — his more tender side. it upsets him, because out of everyone in the world, it’s you that deserves every ounce of love there is to give, and he simply can’t do that. you’ve accepted him blunt attitude, and you never take it to heart, which is something he truly appreciates. you’ve deciphered his own little ways of telling you he loves you, but he wishes he could let you know up front, for the whole world to know! he finds himself in the studio one night, and you waltz in — brightening the room instantly. you hand him a paper bag, containing various of his favourite food and drink and he turns to you with a thankful smile, but he wish he could say more. he pulls you to sit on his lap and plods his headphones onto your head, asking you to listen to whatever he’s working on. he watches you intently, a genuine smile pulling at his lips. he’s bashful, and seriously grateful that the one person he loves most - shows a sincere interest in his biggest passion, and it makes his heart swell, and the words “i love you” fall from his mouth. his face burns red and his eyes grow wide when your head snaps and you rip the headphones off. but the beat of his heart slows when you cock your head to the side, “sorry? i didn’t hear you hoon!” you tell him. he quickly shakes his head, muttering a small “don’t worry” before his eyes dart away from yours. though you never knew what he said, you always had an slight inkling.

zelda’ s note — ^^!! i did not expect it to get this long, i spent almost two hours writing this and only got to woozi’s part,, i feel silly now omg TT. i hope you like it anyway…. the maknae like will be out soon, i’ll try and write it quick!

maknae line

tags : @flrtsbin @jeongelic @thetigeragenda @moontines @hyunyin @bloofairyfox @peachy-yabbay @taetaesangel @sunoo-bby @reveecarat @turquoisefluff-1767

DON'T SWEAT IT. - l.jh

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you.

pairing; lee jihoon x fem!reader.  content; fluff / gym crush au / strangers to lovers / kinda idiots to lovers / smut towards the end (MINORS DNI). w/c; just a breezy 18k- and some change? warnings; swearing, this is only proof read once because if i read it again i was going to lose my mind. please let me know if i've forgotten any. smut tags under the cut ( not sure that this counts as a warning but a heads up: the gym weight units, whenever mentioned, are in kilograms not lbs because i’m british and the metric system, am i right? sorry if there are any other british-isms, i try really hard to avoid them/catch them on a proofread but there are inevitably some that have slipped through the net.  )

note; gym-selfie jihoon, you will never not own my ass. ( screaming internally this is the first fic i've written since my dan + phil youtube era. i don't know what i'm doing. this has been in my wips for about two months. it's a bit all over the place. that's. literally just me. bon appetite. <3 )

smut warnings: making out, grinding, fingering (f rec), oral (f rec), blowjob started/implied (at the end), protected sex (be safe out there gang), little bit of biting, no huge power dynamics? reader & jihoon are both switches (and simps), some use of pet-names (good girl/baby).

—————

He first sees you around lunchtime on an otherwise unassuming Sunday. 

As you walk in, the gym is wonderfully quiet. A handful of regulars mill about, making full use of the rare freedom of the machinery. One of the club’s personal trainers is marching an impossibly steep incline on a treadmill. It could just be any other weekend session in this criminally over-equipped and under-used gym: the town’s worst kept secret. But when the door slams shut behind you, his head jerks up; it, in this moment, is the loudest sound in the room. It’s sort of the only one he hears at all.

Today — the first time in a small forever that he forgot to check the battery on his earphones (and subsequently had them die on him mid-workout) — Jihoon is forced to notice you as he sits with dumbbells rested against his thighs. He catches his breath as he wonders who you are, if you’ve ever been to this gym before, why he doesn’t recognise you. Are you a new potential regular, maybe? Or just visiting the area and making good use of the cheap pay-as-you-go rates? Maybe, he considers, lips turning downwards in thought… maybe you’ve been coming here for a long time and he’s somehow just always been so in his own head that he’s never noticed.

The last, he thinks, is sort of unlikely. No. He would definitely remember a face like yours.

His heart rate slows more than he usually lets it as he finds himself watching you fill up your water bottle at the fountain, taking a long sip on your way over to one of the stairmasters. His brain blanks out when he realises that he’s not just looking anymore, he’s sort of staring, and swallows the saliva on his tongue hard, looking back at the mirror. He doesn’t want to be that guy. He isn’t that guy – he just got distracted by the loud noise, and this is exactly why he checks the damn battery on his headphones before he leaves the house. 

The only problem is that now, he can’t remember how many sets he’s done. He lies back and stares straight into a slightly sketchy light-fixture, neglecting to pick up the dumbbells that he put aside for his next set of pushes. Jihoon adjusts the position of his shoulders against the bench, arches his back off it slightly, digs his heels into the spongy floor beneath them and pushes the ones still in his hands until failure. 

Today, he finishes his routine and leaves the gym without allowing himself so much as another glance your way.

He neglects to notice that your eyes are avoiding him right back. 

—————

You smile at him for the first time on a Tuesday. Not the following one – a week and a bit later.

Seungcheol is with him tonight. Jihoon prefers to train alone nine times out of ten: this is a truth widely acknowledged, accepted and respected among his friends. Gym time is his down time, his equivalent of movie marathons and comfort food, of face masks and glasses of wine. But it’s not a hard rule: occasionally, someone will ask to tag along and use one of his guest passes, and Jihoon very rarely says no. There are two reasons. One, he isn’t actually rude, contrary to approximately eighteen running jokes in the group-chat. But also, it adds a little bit of variety to his otherwise very set-in-stone regimen, and mixing it up doesn’t hurt. Like tonight, for example. Seungcheol is pulling him into the studio off the main gym floor, his own gym bag packed with boxing pads and gloves for them to play with.

Variety.

Jihoon grumbles a little at the idea, at first. He has a very love-hate relationship with cardio, favouring a simple steady-state run over everything else, and it just feels a bit against his moral code to use gym time for something like this. However, he comes to discover very quickly that smacking Seungcheol’s hands is very therapeutic; Jihoon knows he’s maybe getting a little too into it when his friend asks if they can switch around, grimacing and shaking out his wrist after a particularly beefy punch. 

He agrees, albeit reluctantly, tugging off the gloves he’s wearing and pulling on the pads instead.

This half of the activity is considerably less enjoyable for Jihoon; he starts to cool down and loses his flow almost straight away and after about thirty seconds, his breathing is back to normal and he feels ready to go again. Even so, he does what he needs to do to be a good workout partner, and goes one step further into ‘good friend’ territory as he allows Seungcheol to vent about the bad day he had at work in-between hits, offering murmurs and looks of disgust when it feels appropriate. Suddenly, the impromptu request to come to the gym tonight makes much more sense, as does the slightly bizarre choice of activity, but Jihoon tries not to ask about it in too much detail.

They swing at each other for a few more rounds apiece, working up a healthy sweat and getting out a few frustrations as the hour wears on. On the last set, Jihoon switches out Seungcheol’s hands for a punching bag, putting a lot more of his weight behind every hit and really tiring himself out. By the end, his hair sticks to his forehead and his cheeks have flushed bright red; he only stops when he gets that weird, metallic taste in the back of his mouth that says he’s probably overdone it. Again.

“Hit the shower?” Seungcheol asks breathlessly as he finishes his last set of Russian twists and lies down flat on the floor, equally sticky and flushed all over. 

Jihoon pats his face dry with his towel, shaking his head. “You go ahead. I’ll have one at home.” 

He doesn’t give Seungcheol much of a chance to respond, already cleaning down anything he’s touched or managed to sweat on and riding out the high of the endorphins flooding his veins. Secretly, he hasn’t had a cardio session this high energy or this satisfying in a long time. He isn’t going to readily admit to that though.

“Nah, I’ll do the same,” Seungcheol agrees. He starts packing the gear he brought with him into his bag and they leave together after, heading towards the exit. 

That’s when he sees you again. 

He doesn’t notice at first; you’re stowing your things into one of the higher lockers, and you have your headphones slung around your neck as he walks past. It’s the sound of a song he vaguely recognises through your speakers that makes his head snap over from the conversation he’s in the middle of. They walk past at the moment you drop down from your tiptoes, and you flash a small (but insanely pretty) smile at Jihoon.

By the time he manages to process this fact, he’s already walked past you and you’re headed over into the main gym area, so even though he turns around to try and catch your eye, all he sees is your retreating figure. He stumbles over his own feet, not looking where he’s going, and just barely catches himself on Seungcheol’s upper arm before he actually does fall over. His older friend glances down at his bicep before he adopts a look that Jihoon has seen many, many times before: just never directed at him. His cheeks heat up further and he looks away.

“What was that?” Seungcheol asks, one eyebrow so far up his forehead that it’s disappeared almost entirely under his soggy hair. He looks so smug, so incredibly entertained. Jihoon wants to smack that expression off his face, immediately.

“Nothing,” Jihoon rushes, managing not to act on the violent thought even though he wants to. He clears his throat. “No-one. I-... they’re new, I think. I don’t know.”

Seungcheol lets out a soft laugh, pushing the door open for them both to leave through. “Yeah,” he scoffs, eyes glimmering with something Jihoon doesn’t think he likes the look of. “Nothing, my ass.”

—————

Three days later, he hears you speak for the first time.

Granted, you aren’t speaking to him – at least, not at first. But that’s not really what matters.

It’s late, and it’s a Friday night. Fridays are usually Jihoon’s days rest days, but sitting around his apartment had him feeling impossibly twitchy, with far too much energy to burn and no way to do so without leaving the house. And he knows that he needs to take days off, now and again. He knows that they’re good for recovery and that it’s healthy to take time to himself that involves not lifting weights. But what he also knows is that if he doesn’t manage to shake the weird buzzing feeling in his muscles, in his joints, in his veins, he’s never going to get to sleep. So, here he finds himself at almost 10PM, walking down the street to get to the gym.

To begin with, he doesn’t know (or really care) who it is that’s coming up behind him. He can hear quite clearly that the mystery person is on the phone, and that they’re in the middle of what seems to be a rather heated argument: his brain latches onto occasional words, phrases, curses. Every now and again, their voice drops to a deep, frustrated mutter and he cringes slightly, making a point to keep his eyes forward and down so as not to draw attention to the fact that this presumably private conversation has become everything but.

He touches his entry fob to the sensor on the door as he arrives and pushes it open. Jihoon uses the opportunity to stand still, to glance back at whoever it is that’s walked behind him for the past four and a half minutes, and his eyes come to land on you. He falters, noting how your eyes are a bit glassy and your cheeks are stained with what he can safely assume are tear-tracks. In this moment, he wants to run; he doesn’t want anything to do with that, and he certainly doesn’t want to hear any more of your call. It’s none of his business, and he feels plenty weird enough already with what he has overheard. But, for some unknown reason, he stays in place.

“No – no, you don’t get to-...” you hiss into your phone. “It was our fucking anniversary, you asshole.” Jihoon’s face tightens at that, lips drawn between his teeth and his eyes blowing slightly wide. You pass through the door in front of him, flashing a small smile as you go. Another smile, he thinks to himself, but he’d be an idiot to compare them in any way; this one is so dramatically dissimilar to the first, he thinks it could almost have come from a totally different person. 

Unfortunately, there’s nothing ‘insanely pretty’ about it this time. Your smile is tight-lipped and exhausted, slightly apologetic. Maybe even forced. He does try to return a warmer one to you, but he doesn’t know if you notice. 

“Look, I’m at the gym – we’re not doing this right now. I’ll call you later.” You hang up the phone with the kind of sigh that groans in the back of your throat.

A small part of him wants to take this moment and use it to ask if you’re all right, but an even larger part of him doesn’t. It isn’t because he doesn’t care. In a weird way, considering this is only the first time he’s clearly heard your voice and he knows absolutely nothing about you, he does care. But there are a few things that stop him. Not only are you a near-complete stranger, not only would he have no idea what to say to you if the answer happened to come out as a ‘no’, not only is he already coming over a little bit clammy at the thought of having a conversation with you… Jihoon isn’t stupid. He knows from the sound of your voice and the way you’re rather aggressively typing a message into your phone that it’s a ridiculous question.

You’re walking into the gym at 10 o’clock on a Friday night, your eyes literally brimming with tears. Of course you’re not all right.

He’s still standing in the open doorway mulling all this over, but Jihoon only realises when a gust of wind slaps over his calves and sends a draught not only through the reception area, but up the length of his spine. He comes inside fully as you close the locker you’re using – he notices, but he isn’t sure why, that it’s the same one as last time – and throws his things into the one he always uses. Two below and one to the left of yours.

It’s quiet tonight: just the pair of you and one middle-aged guy. Jihoon recognises him as the friendly man who seemingly knows everyone who comes in here – including you, apparently, judging by the way he strikes up a short but energetic conversation. When the other guy walks away, you clamp your headphones back over your ears and return to what you were doing before, occasionally bobbing your head or moving your lips in time with whatever it is that you’re listening to. Jihoon steals little glances at you now and again when you’re in-between sets, watching how you breathe deeper, how your skin glows with sweat as you tap your fingertips against your thighs.

He almost drops the bar he’s holding when you catch his eyes in the long line of mirrors. He turns away, swallowing hard, completely missing how your own gaze lingers.

Jihoon becomes so obsessed with not being caught looking at you again that he doesn’t even notice when you disappear off the gym floor completely. It’s only when he pulls his headphones off at the end of his session and glances around that he registers your absence: your third companion is long gone, and he assumes you must have snuck out without him noticing too. He settles the speakers back over his ears before pulling on an old zip-up, flicking the hood over his head to shelter him a little better once he gets outside. But he’s in no rush to get home so he takes his time, resting his bag between his abdomen and the lockers, replying to a few messages and clicking his tongue at some of the nonsense being spewed into the group-chat. 

He isn’t sure exactly how long he’s standing there for, but he does know precisely what pulls him back to the world outside of the device in his hands.

To begin with, he doesn’t notice you approach, lost completely in his screen. He doesn’t hear your footsteps, or the way you politely clear your throat to announce your presence so he can move out of the way. He misses your moment of realisation that he’s listening to music and has no idea that you’re standing three feet behind him. He doesn’t even see you walk up next to him, your hair still damp from your shower and sitting loose over your shoulders.

It’s only when you try to reach over him to grab the last of your things that he snaps out of his trance. The fragrance of your body wash hits him first, and oh boy, does it hit him. Sweet, and delicate. Then, he gets something beautifully fruity: it’s not a perfume (it doesn’t smell like a perfume), but it’s you. Your shampoo, maybe? A conditioner? He can’t tell. Whatever it is, the combination of fragrances has him feeling like he’s been slammed into by a damn freight train. He drops his bag to the floor, freezing for a second, and then finally moves away just as the little door swings open. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says hurriedly, tugging his hood down and pulling his headphones off completely. “I didn’t even think you were still here.” He can’t shake the smell of you, nor the feeling of your warm frame leaning so close to his own. God, why is his heart pounding like he’s just finished a round of sprints? Why can’t he breathe?

“No – hey, no, don’t be,” you rush, shaking your head. You finally succeed in pulling your coat free and start trying to get it on; Jihoon wonders if you often struggle to find your sleeves like this, if you’re always chasing them around like a puppy after its own tail. He does it too, sometimes. He gets it. It’s cute. “It’s okay. I was trying not to disturb-... I’m sorry.”

“You’re fine,” he tells you. For the first time, he’s able to smile back at you properly. 

Why is it so hot in here, all of a sudden? Do they shut off the air conditioning after hours or something? He’s breaking out in a sweat.

“Call it even?” you suggest shyly, extending out a hand now you’ve managed to get both arms through your sleeves. He looks down at your fingers for a second before reaching to shake your hand once, a semi-firm grip securing the ‘deal’. (He feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted after, but he tries not to make that too obvious).

It goes awkwardly quiet for a moment then, and Jihoon wishes deeply that he had it in him to say something. Anything. But his brain has gone completely empty and apparently, all he knows how to do is stand completely still like a fucking statue. He shifts his gaze from you, to the wall behind you, to the carpet beneath his shoes, all the while tugging at the collar of his sweatshirt as if it might bring him a tiny breath of fresh air. The gentle sound of you clearing your throat has him looking back at your face again though; he assumes for a second that this is maybe you about to announce taking your leave. All the while, he’s cursing himself out in his own head for being totally inept, and he’s not entirely sure that it isn’t written all over his face.

“Alone, today?” you ask, idly fiddling with your zipper and succeeding in taking him by surprise. He really didn’t think you were going to continue this. And yet…

“Hm?” he questions. 

You swallow before answering. “You… the last time, you were with a friend?” you explain, and now it’s your turn to look away. He wonders if you’re a little warm too, if he’s right in what he was thinking about the air-conditioning. 

“Oh. Right.” 

He nods. An annoying train of doubt in his mind wants to know why you’re asking about Seungcheol; if maybe it was him that you smiled at the other night, even though he knows your eyes weren’t looking up at the man he brought with him. He thinks maybe he should be used to these turns in conversation by now – you certainly wouldn’t be the first person to ask if one of his friends is available, after all – but somehow, he isn’t, and he has a slightly bitter taste in the back of his mouth as he goes on.

He really didn’t have ‘you being interested in one of his best friends’ on his bingo card for tonight, that’s for sure. 

“Yeah. I think he’s with his partner, or… I don’t know. I don’t really bring other people, often. That was a one-off.”

You nod silently and Jihoon can’t quite get a read on what that means. He wonders if you’re upset at the revelation of Seungcheol’s partner, or maybe that he doesn’t tag along to every session. Or maybe, maybe, you were just being polite, and you don’t really care what his friend is up to that means he isn’t here. But whatever it is that you’re feeling, you do far too good a job at hiding it; he’s suddenly very overcome with the desire to run, again, except this time he might just bury his head in the sand too for good measure.

“How much were you deadlifting, just then?” you ask in the lull, just as he thinks he might have perfected the best way to say goodbye that doesn’t make him come across as even more of a tool than he probably already has. It throws him off kilter, but somehow, he manages to answer you in reasonable time.

“Oh, God… uh, one… 160?” He says uncertainly. “That’s not… I can do heavier-...” In his mind, he slaps his forehead. “Wait, no, that’s-... I mean, it’s true, but I didn’t mean-...”

You bite back your smile as he talks himself in a circle but Jihoon is too flustered to notice, convinced that he now sounds like every arrogant gym rat on the planet. God, he’s given himself the ick.

“I guessed you could,” you say. 

Oh boy, this freezes him. Mid-thought, mid blink, mid-breath: he’s completely stuck. What does that mean? What does that mean? He only just manages to unstick his now suddenly dry tongue from the roof of his mouth, looking at you with surprised, confused eyes and parted lips. There aren’t any words on them, though. Like a deer in headlights, he just… stares.

“I mean, okay. Come on.” Your eyes visibly drop as you look him over, gaze lingering at his shoulders, his biceps, his waist. “You can get another twenty on that at least, right?”

He doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening to him, but if he thought he was burning up before? It was nothing compared to this, now. And there’s no way you haven’t noticed how everything from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears has suddenly started staining scarlet. He bows his head and pinches his lips tight, wrestling away the train of thought that appears as you drag your bottom lip between your teeth momentarily, still eyeing his arms. God, he’s never felt so overwhelmed in his life. 

“Something like that, yeah,” he strains. He’s trying so hard to be nonchalant, even though he knows all of his personal bests by heart. Deadlift, 195kg. He hit it a few weeks ago: a couple of days before he first saw you.

“Mm. You can tell.”

Jihoon tries to shake off the compliment, but he fails. In equal measure he wishes you’d stop (he doesn’t know how much more blood can rush to his cheeks before he keels over) and never wants you to stop talking. It’s all going straight to his stomach, though, and he doesn’t remember having felt this specific brand of nervous and excited and stupidly shy since he was in high school.

He can hardly keep up. This is the danger zone.

Maybe it’s a bad idea that he says the next thing that comes into his head in a desperate attempt to change the conversation away from how much he can pull. But somehow, his voice doesn’t break when he asks, “are you parked far away?”

What? It’s dark outside, and this part of town isn’t exactly known for its upstanding citizens and pretty flowerbeds.

“Oh,” you say, eyes a little wide. “I’m-... just staying close-by. I walked here.” The space between his eyebrows must crease a little too quickly because you immediately hurry to speak again. “Really. It’s like… not even ten minutes. All main streets. It’s nothing.”

“Ten minutes longer than I’d walk around here at night on my own,” he says lightheartedly. In tone, at least. He’s actually completely serious.

You laugh at that; he lets out a chuckle, too. Now, Jihoon doesn’t believe in fairies but he thinks that if they were real, they’d giggle just like you do. 

With a smile still on your face, you say, “what? A strong guy like you? Come on, now.”

Do you have to keep doing that? Fuck, he’s absolutely done for.

He tilts his head forwards, eyes closed, trying so hard to stop the muscles in his cheeks from lifting in a grin that it becomes a workout in and of itself.

“I mean it,” he says, taking what he hopes is a subtle breath to settle the fluttering in his chest. The next thing he knows, he’s leaning one shoulder against the lockers, a little reminiscent of every douchebag in every teen movie ever made. If he doesn’t think about it too much, he won’t cringe into oblivion until he gets home and replays this interaction over and over in his head instead of going to sleep. “Maybe I’ve just lived here too long. I might be jaded, but it’s still true.”

“How long is too long?” you ask.

“All my life,” he tells you.

“No way?”

“Mm.” A beat. “What about you?”

“I’m just staying with a friend, right now.”

“Oh, right.” He falls quiet again as he remembers the first time he saw you, remembers making the list in his head of all the possible reasons he hadn’t seen you before. The second was true, then.

Why does that feel like the worst possible scenario? He decides not to unpack that here.

“Maybe-...” you start, glancing down at your hands, which have been twisting in front of you for a few seconds now. Your chest inflates, filled with the words you’re about to speak, but only a breath comes out when you shake your head instead of saying them. “No, don’t worry. Scratch that.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, because he thinks that whatever you were about to suggest, there’s not much he would have said no to. He feels like it’s only fair to give you another chance to say it.

But you don’t.

“Yeah, it’s nothing.” You pause. “I… should probably get going.” He glances over your shoulder at the clock mounted on the far wall, squinting to see the time. 11:45.

“Shit. Yeah, me too,” Jihoon agrees. He didn’t realise it had gotten so late, so fast: he’s hardly ever out at this time. Lord, he already knows it’s going to be an open inquisition when he gets back to his apartment. His neighbours, Soonyoung and Seokmin, are about to have a fucking field day. 

But it’s already long past the time he usually goes to bed, so he asks his next question anyway. He still can’t shake the thought of you walking back on your own at this hour. “Do-… you need a ride?” 

He’s not sure if you actually consider it, or just wait a moment before you answer just to be polite. Either way, you end up shaking your head.

“It’s okay. I’ve-… got a call to make, so.” Your voice is a little quieter, lips tweaking up into a regretful half-smile, and Jihoon curses in his own head. How had he forgotten about that? “Thank you, though. Really.”

“Don’t mention it,” he says. “Just… get back safe.”

You smile and nod, taking a step towards the door and Jihoon does the same. He reaches the exit first and holds it open for you; when you’re both out in the street, he suppresses a shiver and looks in the direction of where he left his car earlier. Feeling the full force of the cold, it crosses his mind to ask again if you’re sure about walking home, but you’re already pulling a beanie down over your still damp hair and tapping something into your phone, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I’ll see you around, uh-…” you start to say, only looking back up when you falter, realising that this is the first time you’re about to use his name and it occurs to you both, at the same time, that you haven’t done this part, yet.

“Jihoon,” he introduces himself, lips quirking into a side-smile. His gaze is expectant and you respond to it perfectly. 

“Y/n,” you introduce yourself. 

“See you around, y/n.”

You split off in the opposite direction to where he’s heading. Before he clamps his headphones over his ears for the short walk up to his car, the last thing he hears is the retreating sound of a dial-tone. 

—————

He doesn’t see you then for two whole weeks. 

For the first couple of days, he only idly notices; it’s not a big deal — it’s not like you’re always there when he is, and he’s sure it’s the same vice versa. But he notices your absence, nonetheless. By the end of the first week, he casually wonders if you’ve had a change in schedule. Maybe you’re on a different working pattern, something that means you can’t be there on Monday and Thursday evenings and at 11:45am on Sundays. 

It’s not weird. He only knows this because prior to that first conversation, acknowledging you as you crossed paths by the free-weights became part of his routine. It’s fine that he sort of misses those little interactions, isn’t it?

Maybe you’ve decided to start training ridiculously early in the morning instead? He tried that once. Never again. It then occurs to him, in the middle of a self-enforced rest day as he sits in the dark nursing a headache, that perhaps you’re not well. He sort of wishes he’d had the guts to ask for your number the last time he saw you, now: he thinks he’d check in, see if you were okay, ask how work was going or something. 

Deep down he knows he’d probably actually just be staring at a blank text thread with a ‘casual’ message typed, tweaked a few hundred times, and ultimately unsent. But that’s fine. It’s the thought that counts. 

The next time he sees you isn’t even in the gym, at all. It’s a Sunday afternoon — he finished his morning session, went home, showered, and headed back out into town after some lunch with a few errands to run. He finds himself spoiled with the luxury of a spare few hours to kill and dips into his favourite coffee place, thrilled beyond belief to find that it’s not obnoxiously busy and that there’s only one other person in the queue waiting to be served. 

Oh, he thinks when he looks up from his phone and sees a vaguely familiar set of headphones sitting on top of a definitely familiar mane of hair, standing right in front of him. Oh, shit. It’s you.

Jihoon goes back and forth with himself over it but ultimately decides he probably doesn’t know you well enough to just say hello out in the wild like this, so even though the urge to do so strikes, he holds himself back. It’s agonising, though. He really wants to. 

You step forward to order and he’s typing out a reply to a message in his, Seokmin and Soonyoung’s three-way group chat, in which he’s literally been fighting for his life as of late. He made the mistake of mentioning you in passing a few days ago and ever since, he’s had to vehemently deny that he has developed his first gym crush, insisting that actually, he’s just made a friend. They don’t believe him, because of course they don’t. That would be far too reasonable. Seokmin says that Jihoon wouldn’t be blushing just from saying your name if you were really ‘just a friend’. Soonyoung argues Jihoon wouldn’t have mentioned you at all.

“I’m so sorry — bear with me, just-…” your voice is quiet but Jihoon hears you apologising to the cashier in front of you, and it snaps him clean away from the tiff he’s having with the men who live in his building. He glances up and you’re elbow-deep in the bag over your shoulder, red in the face with your bottom lip pulled between your teeth. He turns his head slightly and sees the small hand-written sign that says the card machine isn’t working, and they’re cash only, today. 

He can hazard a guess at your predicament. 

After another few seconds of you trying to find whatever it is you’re looking for in your bag, he starts feeling bad for you. This, right here, is his own worst nightmare. Should the roles be reversed, he thinks he would’ve just turned around and walked out. It’s exactly why he doesn’t bother with backpacks and satchels day-to-day: if it doesn’t fit in his pockets, he doesn’t take it out with him. The system isn’t perfect but it has saved Jihoon a decent amount of public distress. 

But the roles aren’t reversed, and he has his wallet already in his hand, so… he only gives himself a few seconds to wonder if it’s appropriate before he does the stupid thing anyway.

“Don’t worry — I’ve got it,” he says, stepping around you, pulling out the cash to pay for your order. You’re dumbstruck when you look  at him, head tilted to the side. The person stood behind the counter glances at you, then at him, and back at you; you don’t see this, however, because your eyes haven’t left Jihoon’s face since he appeared — as far as you’re concerned — out of thin air.

“I can’t ask you to…” you start to protest, but your hands have stopped fishing around and he’s moving the cash further towards the barista, who hesitates just a second longer. 

“You’re not asking. I’m offering. I’ve got you.” He says this with such finality that you quite literally can’t argue with him. The lady behind the counter accepts the cash and you nod, shyly, mouthing a thank you. He orders his own drink — an Americano, nothing exciting — and you both go to stand at the other end of the counter while you wait.

“Hi,” you finally say, and Jihoon can’t help but give a small chuckle. 

He doesn’t have anything hugely witty or creative in his arsenal, though, so he comes back with a matching, “hey.”

“How… have you been?” you ask. 

“Can’t complain, really,” he says. “Are you okay? I haven’t seen you around for a few weeks.” Oh, God — the second the words are out of his mouth, he wishes he could take them back. Why did he have to add that last part? Why didn’t he just leave it at the question? 

“Yeah — about that,” you breathe, ducking your head to conceal the heat that’s spreading over your cheeks. “You know how I said I was staying with that friend?” He nods, and you continue. “I was waiting for some stuff to get sorted out with an apartment and it all finally got resolved, so… I’ve been moving my stuff over to a new place.”

Jihoon feels his heart sink for a moment, but he keeps his expression pleasant and engaged. His fingers threaten to give him away as they fiddle with the aglet on the drawstring of his sweatpants. 

“Sounds tiring,” he says lightly, and you laugh again, nodding. It’s odd, having his heart taking residence low in his stomach and somehow also in his throat, all while hammering away at a mile a minute. All the caffeine in the world couldn’t have this effect on him. “Is it going okay so far?”

“Yeah.” You nod. “It’s a process, but… it’ll be worth it.”

The barista behind the counter announces herself by clearing her throat and slides your drinks across the marble surface with a little glimmer in her eye. Jihoon picks them both up, extending yours out to you. There’s a pause (in which he swallows a large helping of self-doubt) as he glances to the door, working through several combinations of his next words in his mind before he looks back at you. 

“Do you… maybe have ten minutes to sit with these?” He asks. You light up immediately, not even checking the time on any of your devices, nor the wall clock behind your head. He doesn’t let himself think about why it makes him giddy that you’re accepting the offer, just like that.

“Yeah — yeah, sure.” You smile, walking through the lines of tables and sliding into one of the big, comfy chairs by the window. He unzips his jacket and slings it over the arm of the other chair before settling in himself, his long fingers wrapping around the to-go cup. The drink warms his perpetually cold palms and he sighs sweetly.

“You must be excited to get into the new place, then?” he asks after taking a sip, letting it heat him up from the inside. It could be argued that this job is already being taken care of, but Jihoon is not about to go there.

“Oh, God yes.” You nod, relaxing back in the seat with your own cup. Jihoon subconsciously leans a little forward in tandem. “It’s been fun staying with my friend, but…” You pause, lips slightly parted, before going on. “Okay, a warning: I’m a terrible person for this, I know. She’s done me a huge favour, letting me stay there — but I can’t deal with how untidy she is. It’s driving me nuts.”

A chuckle bubbles in Jihoon’s chest, cheeks starting to ache as his smile grows and grows. It hasn’t fallen since he sat down opposite you, and doesn’t seem to be going anywhere, any time soon. “That bad?” he asks.

“You have no idea,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. He wishes you hadn’t — he thinks you look quite lovely when you’re all lit up like this. “She doesn’t clean her dishes after she eats — she piles them up in the sink for like, three days. I don’t think she’s used the vacuum the entire time I’ve been there. I keep finding wrappers and packets and mismatched socks everywhere —” 

His snort of laughter rolls off the back of his throat rather ungraciously and he settles back into his chair. You gently bump his ankle under the table with your foot, beaming at him. “I’m serious! I can’t live like this, Jihoon. I can’t!”

The more you speak, the less he can control the fits he’s descended into, and his abs start to ache after a while; there’s desperation in your voice but it’s just wrapped up so cutely in your lighthearted frustration and decoratively tied together with your sunshine smile… he can’t help it — he’s in pieces. It’s okay though, because you’re laughing too: it makes him think of fairies again, and he can picture you with dainty, intricately patterned wings under the soft lighting in the café. He wipes the corner of his eye with the heel of his hand as he starts to calm down, taking a few deep breaths all the way into his stomach.

“You’re so much stronger than I am,” he says.. “I couldn’t deal with that.”

“You know, I had a feeling you’d be a clean person, too,” you say, sipping at your coffee again. “I mean… I’ve never seen you use the gym showers, so I wasn’t sure, but…”

“Hey,” he says, mock-defensively. “I don’t trust the locks, okay? I shower at home!”

Your cup is lifted to your mouth and he can only see you from the nose upwards, but by the creases at the corners of your eyes, he knows you’re concealing a smile behind it as you nod back at him.

Ten minutes turns to twenty and then somehow becomes thirty — Jihoon starts feeling like you’re someone he’s known for years, and not just the person he accidentally ended up paying attention to in the gym just a couple of weeks ago. He bounces off you and you bounce off him. Both of you have long-since finished your drinks, too: there’s no real reason for either of you to still be here.

Except the obvious. 

“So, the apartment,” Jihoon says, leaning forwards again with his elbows resting on his knees. “Is it…?” He makes a few circular gestures with his hands with which he tries to imply something to the effect of ‘local’, or ‘nearby’, but he can’t quite bring himself to say that out loud. You seem to catch on though. Somehow.

Then again, you did say — a few subject changes ago — that Jihoon is on your wavelength. Maybe that’s it.

“About… a fifteen minute walk from here? Give or take,” you say, and his eyebrows shoot up his forehead so fast it’s like they’re on strings, being controlled by someone else. He doesn’t realise for a few seconds, by which point he isn’t even sure how to relax them. 

“No way?” he says, trying to feign nothing more than an idle interest. Obviously, he’s soaring. 

“Yeah. I’ll want to get back training soon, too, so there’s some incentive to get this done quickly. I miss it,” you tell him.

Jihoon comes out with what he says next without thinking. His mouth is moving before fully engaging his brain. It’s the coffee jitters. Apparently.

“Well, if you need any help with anything, I’ve got a car.”

“You’re too sweet,” you say. “I really couldn’t put you out like that, but…”

“You wouldn’t be,” he assures you with a shrug. “If I’m not working or in the gym… I’m never really that busy. It’s up to you, but-… I’d be happy to.”

You bite the inside of your lip for a moment, apparently mulling this over, before wiggling in your seat to pull your phone out of the front pocket of your jeans. You unlock the device and hand it over on a ‘new contact’ screen. 

Jihoon goes completely stupid: he thinks his brain stops functioning as he takes it to put his number in — for a moment, he’s staring dumbstruck, struggling to even remember the order of the digits now he’s under pressure, but it comes back to him eventually. His thumbs dart across the screen and he checks, double checks and triple checks that he’s typed it right before placing it back in your waiting palm. 

His fingertips brush against yours and it tickles, sending small shockwaves up his arms and straight into his chest. You smile down at your phone before glancing up at him.

“You need an emoji,” you tell him, and he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Huh?”

“Everyone in my contacts has one — I’ve been doing this since I was in high-school. You need to pick one, too.”

“Oh, uh-…” Jihoon swallows, and for some reason he’s completely forgotten every single little emoticon option there is. He draws a blank. “I can’t — you pick one for me. I don’t know.”

You narrow your eyes at him for a second, pouting your lips as you seem to scroll through the endless options. Now and again, you look up at him, as if trying to see what best fits him before you continue your search. He waits. And waits. And waits. He’s about to throw in an admittedly useless suggestion of some sort of boring animal when you turn your phone around to show him what you’ve chosen.

Jihoon, the contact name reads. And there’s the little angel face next to it.

“Oh, come on,” he says, blushing deeply. “You can’t be serious.”

“I totally am,” you say proudly, turning it back and pressing to save it. He hides his face in his hands. “If you won’t pick your own, you get what you’re given. You did this to yourself.”

“Wow,” he chuckles weakly, sliding his hands up into his hair and raking it back off his face. Your eyes move quickly across every inch and boy, does he notice. You shrug in response and test it, sending the same little emoticon to him. He blushes harder when it comes through and he saves your number into his own phone before placing it face-down on the table. 

More than an hour after buying your coffee, Jihoon stretches his arms above his head and checks the time on his watch. He frowns slightly, not sure how the afternoon got away from him so fast, and lets out a sigh.

“I think I need to get going,” he says reluctantly. Leaving you is absolutely the opposite of what he wants to do, actually. Alas, “I have some friends coming over tonight.”

“Yeah — yeah, of course,” you smile, leaning to one side to pick your bag up off the floor. “No worries.”

You both move to stand up and he throws his coat over his arm, leading the way out. He holds open the door for you to leave first, then follows you outside into the afternoon sun. 

“It was really nice to see you,” you say, turning to face him. 

“You too,” he agrees. “Text me if you need anything, okay? But actually do. Don’t just say you will?”

You laugh sweetly. Fairies. His ears might have actually caught fire this time. “Okay, okay. I promise. I’ll text you — thank you.” There’s a pause, but only a tiny one. “And for the coffee, too.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists, waving it off. You shake your head. He thinks your hands are twitching when you stuff them into your pockets but he can’t be sure. Your breath definitely stutters, though. 

“No, really. Um… next one’s on me?” 

He blinks, and blinks again. Next one? The next one? He feels like he’s malfunctioned and been forcibly rebooted. The next one? 

“I-…” he starts, his throat dry. “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure.” You nod, smiling with — what he doesn’t realise is — relief. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah — I’ll see you, y/n.”

—————

Jihoon has no choice but to admit defeat to the group chat that night when Seungcheol and Jeonghan come over for a takeout.

Within minutes, his oldest friend is asking about the girl from the gym — he’s been just as relentless as Seokmin and Soonyoung in quizzing Jihoon, except it’s slightly harder to deny to Seungcheol because he did witness, first-hand, the way you had his friend tripping over his own feet with a single smile. At first, Jihoon tries to shrug it off. Play it down. Change the subject. He doesn’t mention that he’s actually spoken to you since he and Cheol trained together, or that he accidentally bumped into you and paid for your coffee, or that you stayed talking with him for as long as you did. He definitely doesn’t say that you exchanged phone numbers. 

He absolutely won’t confess to being smitten. 

All Jihoon willingly admits to is that from what he’s seen of you around, you seem nice, and with a roll of his eyes he does agree that he thinks you’re attractive. He gets a bit of a glare later in the evening when  Jeonghan asks if he’s thought about where he wants to take you on your first date, and Jihoon tells him to stop asking stupid questions and eat his chicken before he eats it for him. But all in all he thinks he evades the worst of it pretty well. For now, anyway — he knows their pestering isn’t going away any time soon. 

Especially not when, on their way out, Seungcheol leans close and whispers that whatever is going on with his gym crush, it suits him. Jihoon jabs him on the arm and the two men leave, laughing brightly.

It’s about an hour after his friends have gone home, having washed the dishes and cleaned up his apartment that Jihoon is sitting on his living room floor doing a few lower body stretches before he turns in for the night. He finds himself tapping into your text thread — not for the first time this evening — and skimming over the short conversation you had earlier. You messaged him when you got back to your friend’s place to thank him for the third time, and Jihoon replied back telling you that if you didn’t stop being silly, he was never going to respond to you again. Your reply came in the form of a “:(“ and his was a simple “:)”. That was it, but he’s been thinking about the exchange ever since. 

He’s not sure why. Nor is he certain what about that has him looking down at the messages and grinning like a fool in his apartment, alone, at 10:30pm on a Sunday night. He could probably take a stab in the dark at what it means, though. He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand as he changes conversations and types out a short message with the other. 

jihoon: fine. you’re right. 

seokmin: ?

soonyoung: probs true, does need context

jihoon: about the gym girl. you’re right. 

soonyoung: OH

seokmin: Hahahahahaha

seokmin: Yeah, you’re definitely the last to know, dude

soonyoung: fr even chan and hansol know atp lmao 

jihoon: they what?

jihoon: how do they know?

jihoon: they don’t go to my gym! i haven’t seen them in weeks!

soonyoung: because we told them????? 

seokmin: So, we might have told everyone

jihoon: blocking both of your numbers immediately.

seokmin: Hey! We’re just glad you’ve accepted it

seokmin: When do we get to meet her?

jihoon: blocked.

Well, great, Jihoon thinks as he fights the urge to lay face down on the floor and let the laminate cool his searingly hot cheeks. 

At least he’s admitted it now. 

He’s vaguely confirmed in writing that maybe he has a bit of a thing for you — it’s out in the open and at minimum, two of his friends know that it’s real. Straight from the horse’s mouth. Fingers. Whatever. No doubt by morning, all of his friends will have found out. The point stands that he hasn’t confessed to something like this since he was approximately sixteen years old, so whatever you’re doing to him, whatever this… is, it matters. 

So, he asks himself, standing up off the hardwood floor and stretching his spine, arms locked behind him and pushed back as far as they can go. He turns off all the lights, checks the front door, goes through the motions to get himself ready for bed. So… what the fuck am I supposed to do now?

—————

Come Monday evening, he’s about ready to hit the roof.

As far as bad days go, Jihoon thinks he’s in the running for one of the worst ever. He slept awfully, tossing and turning through the night despite the usual winning combination of freshly washed bed sheets and his white noise machine drowning out the occasional disturbance from the street below. He wakes up two minutes before his alarm is due to go off, only to discover he fell asleep before plugging his phone in to charge overnight, and it’s sitting at a very risky 13%. The gel he uses to keep his hair off his face at work has gone weird and only does half a job, strands tumbling back in front of his eyes the second he goes to leave his apartment, very nearly forgetting his keys. Then, to really put the cherry on top, he sees that — at some point between getting home yesterday and now — someone has scraped his car while parking up next to him. There’s a large scratch right down the passenger side, with no note nor reliable CCTV in his apartment’s parking lot to confirm who it was, and of course, the space is currently empty. 

All this before he even gets to work.

He fundamentally knows that starting the week off with a bad attitude will only lead to a really shitty remainder, but when Vernon sends his routine ‘Monday Motivation’ booster message — “you’re going to have a great day, today!” — into the group chat, Jihoon responds with a crude photo of his middle finger, right in front of the massive scuff on the bodywork of his Hyundai. Jeonghan replies with an ‘oof’, Wonwoo with a ‘yikes’, and Joshua, ever the comedian, sends a picture of Garfield lying face-down captioned ‘Mondays’ that nobody replies to. All responses feel kind of appropriate. But he pockets his phone without sending anything else, sighing again; he locks the car and checks the handle just in case before he finally heads into the building.

It’s going to be a long day. He just has to get through it.

Things don’t necessarily improve. He ends up in and out of meetings all day, so when 5 o’clock rolls around and he’s on his way out the door, he’s feeling a bit like he’s done nothing of actual value. Just, for some reason, thinking about you and tapping out a catchy beat on the top of his desk as he pretends to pay attention to useless presentation after useless presentation. But it’s still somehow been exhausting on his brain and on the drive back to his apartment, Jihoon feels so drained that he contemplates skipping the gym altogether and going straight to bed. This internal argument takes up most of his journey, but it does keep him occupied during the rush-hour traffic if it does nothing else. 

Nothing has ever been fixed by ruining a perfectly good routine, however — so no sooner than he’s back in his apartment, he changes out of his button-down and trousers and into his regular gym gear. His protein shaker is ready on the counter for when he’s home again, the lights are off, his bag is on his shoulder and the door is locked. He pushes against it a few times, checking out of habit, despite the fact that his only neighbours on this floor are Soonyoung, Seokmin and an elderly couple with a cat they’re not technically supposed to have. Nobody tells, though, because Boots has become everyone’s emotional support animal. The only actual security threat is Seokmin maybe stealing something from his fridge, but he’s only ever satisfied after the third test anyway. 

A quick warmup and a few easy stretches later, Jihoon sets about his business. Mondays are for training legs (and often, as a result, incapacitating himself for the rest of the week), and these workouts are always some of his most intense.

So intense, in fact, that he’s sweating buckets and cherry red when he steps away from the squat rack, tugging up the hem of his t-shirt to dry his face, a brief flash of his toned abdomen on full view. He’s just about catching his breath when he glances in the mirror, and his knees nearly give out when he sees you walking in. You lock eyes and smile at him in the reflection as you start to walk towards him.

It’s not just any smile, but he’s way too flustered to notice.

He spins around to face you, mortally embarrassed that you definitely just saw that, but in a weird way… kind of elated? You drop your headphones to sit around the back of your neck to greet him as you get closer. He pushes his hair back off his forehead and tries to act as cool as he can, but Jihoon suddenly becomes incredibly aware of everything about himself in this moment: his posture, how his arms hang by his sides, the exact positioning of his feet. The fact that he’s breathing pretty deeply, that his pulse is so loud in his ears that he can see your lips moving but can’t quite hear what you’re saying.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit — you’re talking. Focus. He needs to focus. 

“Sorry — what was that?” he asks, eliciting a soft laugh from you.

“I like your shirt,” you repeat, a fraction clearer. Jihoon glances down at himself, at the same sweatpants and tight black workout top he wears in here several times a week, and looks back at you with a raised eyebrow. God, he lets himself think for half a second, entertaining his own stupidity with the idea that you’re finding this as hard as he is, too. Maybe I’m not alone in this. 

“Oh?” he says. “Um — thank you?”

“How’d it go with your friends last night?” you ask, hardly skipping a beat, and he’s a little thankful that you skim over his poor attempt at gratitude for a compliment he isn’t sure he deserves. Instead, his confusion wraps itself around the fact that you actually remembered what he was doing last night. Hell, even he’d forgotten in the heat of the day he’d had, but you remembered. He’s sweating over it a little and briefly wonders what the chances are of the gym floor opening up and swallowing him whole.

Slim, he decides. But not zero. 

There’s hope.

“Yeah — yeah, it was nice,” he says, internally kicking himself for overthinking this so much that he’s apparently lost his ability to speak. In the space of 24 hours, he’s gone from giggling over coffee with you to completely weak just at the sound of your voice. It should be easier here, if anything — this is home turf for him. His comfort space. He supposes the tight fit of your gym clothes accentuating your hips and thighs isn’t helping matters, and neither is the wide neckline of your own t-shirt exposing your throat and a collarbone. But still. He’s not a teenager. He should be able to handle a little bit of skin. 

He clears his throat, rolling his head side-to-side. Focus. “Sorry — I’m-… I just didn’t expect to see you back here so soon.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “I-… couldn’t stay away. Missed it a little too much.”

“I get that,” he concurs, willing his eyes not to drop down your frame to a newly exposed area of skin just around your waist, your t-shirt riding up as you adjust your bag on your shoulder. “It’s good to-… have you back, anyway.”

“Good to be back,” you agree. “Hey — can you leave that set up for me, when you’re done? I’m on legs today, too.”

Jihoon doesn’t want to say that he knows Mondays are your leg days, as well, so he doesn’t. Even if it is true. He wonders if you would find it odd that he’s remembered. “Sure,” he says with a small smile, which you return. Just as you’re about to walk off to drop your things into a locker, he pipes up again. “I mean — hey, if you wanted a spot, or to-… do, you know… anything…”

“Are you asking me to train with you?” you ask, eyes bright and smile wider than he thinks he’s ever seen it. This is torture. He’s not even lifting anything and his heart is about to burst out of his fucking chest — God, maybe this was a bad suggestion.

“I-…” he starts, but he lets the breath out of his lungs and shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah. I am.”

“Give me two minutes,” you agree, hurrying off to put your stuff away and fill up your bottle.

He manages to squeeze another set of squats in before you get back, which is sort of a miracle seeing as how his knees have gone completely weak ever since you arrived. He’s scrolling through his playlist as you cross the gym floor on your way back to him, but he looks up and smiles as you approach. 

“You go ahead — I’ve just finished.”

He knows he’s really fucking done for when, after the first round, you add plates onto the bar to out-lift him. All before he’s even positioned himself behind you to be a good spotter.

Jihoon doesn’t go down without a fight though, and things get a little competitive from there. Both of you throw some of your favourite (see: most agonising) exercises into the mix over the course of the hour, taking it in turns on the equipment and creating a session that just about has him able to move by the time you’re finished. You talk to each other when you’ve got the breath to do so, otherwise focussing on your workout with more intensity than either of you remember training with for a long time. 

And so what if he has to turn away from you once or twice to compose himself when breathless whines spill from between your lips on your last few reps, the sheer effort of the movements pushing your muscles to their absolute limit? So what if he feels his entire body run a thousand degrees every time you sweetly encourage him to manage just one more? So what if his palm stays tingling for fifteen seconds every time you high-five him for a set well done?

You slide out of the hamstring curl machine with a deep breath and legs like two sticks of jelly at the end of the session, and he holds a hand out to steady you as you regain your ability to weight-bear.

“You okay?” he asks, and you nod, patting what’s exposed of your chest and neck with your towel. 

“Yeah. Yeah — just… fuck.” You laugh, laying your hand over the top of his and squeezing. Only for a second — not even, only for a breath — and really just to let him know that you’re okay to stand on your own, but Jihoon feels a bit like he’s been electrocuted straight up his arm all the same. “You don’t come to play, do you?”

“Says you,” he scoffs, only now moving his hand from your upper arm. “I was wrong about you — you’re insane. Clinically insane.” 

Using the paper towels he went to gather while you were finishing up, he wipes the machine clean as you stretch out your now slightly exercise-swollen thighs. 

“I was just gonna finish up on one of the stairmasters,” you tell him, taking a long sip of your water. His eyes widen to the point of comedy, eyebrows high on his forehead. You snicker at his horror, the rim of your bottle hovering tantalisingly over your bottom lip. “What?”

“That’s-… got to be a form of masochism,” he says, exhausted just at the idea of marching up the never ending staircase even for a minute. You almost choke on your mouthful of water, only just swallowing it in time before a sudden, uncontrollable laugh erupts from your chest. 

“How?!” you ask, covering your mouth with your hand. Just like yesterday, the urge to pull your arm away, to reveal your hidden smile strikes him. He doesn’t act on it, but he wants to.

“What do you mean, how? Why would you put yourself through that after what you’ve just done?” It’s completely lighthearted, and the rush of heat on your cheeks intensifies at the cocktail of shock and awe in his gaze.

You shrug your shoulders once. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just better than you.” The way the tip of your tongue teasingly sits between your teeth as you grin at him sends bullets of adrenaline through his veins and Jihoon runs his hand over his face.

For about three seconds, he tells himself he isn’t going to take the bait. He’ll lose, he’ll admit it — he’ll put his hands up and say you’re absolutely, definitely better than he is, if it means he doesn’t have to push through a round of cardio after surpassing every single one of his physical limits. But God, he thinks you look completely irresistible standing there challenging him like this, your hands on your hips. His eyes don’t leave yours and yours don’t leave his; both of your chests stutter, just a little bit, and he can see your smile grow in his periphery.

How the fuck is he supposed to walk away?

“Ten minutes,” he concedes, matching your footsteps as you start to walk backwards towards his least favourite line of equipment in any gym, ever. “And you’re definitely getting the next coffee, now.”

——————

That Friday, you finally text him again.

His muscles have just about returned to a working state and Jihoon is quite proud to say that he has regained the ability to sit down without needing something to hold onto. He got home from work, showered the day away and has just settled down into the sofa to start on the book Wonwoo has been on his ass about reading when his phone vibrates on the side table. He reaches over for it, trying to figure out which of his friends might be trying to get hold of him early evening on a Friday, and already going over excuses in his head as to why he can’t go out to do whatever they’re inviting him to. But when your contact name flashes up on the screen, every single thought disappears from his brain.

y/n: hey :)

y/n: just out of interest, how good are you at assembling furniture?

He furrows his brows at this. There’s a very obvious answer, which is that he’s not. He doesn’t want to reply saying so, though, so he goes for what he thinks is the next best thing.

jh: well…

jh: what are you trying to put together?

y/n: a bed :(

y/n: today’s your rest day, right?

y/n: can i bribe you with dinner after? :)

Oh? His brain stalls, fingers hovering over the keypad. He can literally see your face forming a little pout before growing into a hopeful grin in his mind’s eye. He doesn’t see how he could ever say no. 

jh: apparently yes, you can.

jh: text me the address? i’ll leave in 5.

He changes out of his basketball shorts and hoodie in record time, abandoning Wonwoo’s book on his couch in favour of attempting to look at least somewhat presentable for you. He tugs on a pair of jeans that he hasn’t touched in about 6 months and one of his nicer t-shirts instead, even going as far as to spritz aftershave on the column of his throat. You’ve sent him your address and he makes to leave, doing his regular essential item pat-down on his way out the door. He puts your new apartment into his phone as he crosses the parking lot, stupidly delighted to discover it’s only 7 and a half minutes away from where he lives, and settles into his car with a series of deep exhales.

The breathing exercises don’t achieve much. His head is still spinning when he parks up in the street by your new place and lingers just outside the building. He sends you a text to say he’s arrived and you reply saying you’re on your way down. You appear in the lobby just a few minutes later.

“Hey,” you greet him warmly, crossing the space and putting your arms around him in a hug. He goes limp for a fraction of a second before his arms slide around you, too. God, he hopes you can’t feel his heartbeat right now. He thinks that the effect you have on him should be considered dangerous. But whether you can or not, you tighten your arms to squeeze him once before you unwind them from around his neck and step away. 

“Hi,” he says, feverish from the tops of his ears all the way down to his toes. His hands find his pockets as you take a few more polite steps back.

“Thank you so much for this.” Your bottom lip finds temporary home between your teeth before you’re nodding back towards the stairwell. “I’m on the third floor. Follow me.”

He does. He walks up the stairs behind you as you ask about his day at work, and he tells you that he thinks today has probably been one of the best he’s had in about 2 months. When he asks how your day went, you turn your head back to look at him and stumble on the next step, gently laughing and saying that you think you’re at your tether’s end with D.I.Y, but it’s been pretty good otherwise. By the time you reach your floor, his thighs are aching, a bit of residual fatigue from your session earlier in the week making it a little harder than it ought to be. He can’t imagine how you’ve coped every day since then; if his own building didn’t have an elevator, Jihoon thinks he’d have been sleeping in his car.

You give him a little tour of the apartment, and he stands next to you at the window as you point out where you were staying with your friend a few blocks away. He thinks the view is seriously pretty in the evening light, enchanted by how he can see the tops of the slightly lower buildings and the street below, lined with neon storefronts and currently alive with shoppers and bar-goers, but… He cringes at himself for thinking it, but the view through the glass is nothing compared to the one he has inside. 

You’ve started to put up a few decorations and knick-knacks around the place too. He doesn’t know you very well, but he still thinks it’s very you — all of it, and he likes them. Even with the room full of boxes and half-unpacked cases, there’s so much personality in it already. Charm. He brushes off your attempts to apologise for the ‘mess’, as you called it, despite everything being neatly pushed out of the way of the main space. It’s easily tidier than any other mid-move apartment he’s ever been in. 

“Did you want a drink?” you ask him, walking over to the refrigerator and resting a hand on the door. “I’ve got wine, or-… anything, really.” 

“Just some water would be great,” he says appreciatively, and a few seconds later you’re handing him a bottle, turning another one over in your hand. “I really wouldn’t be much help after a couple of glasses, trust me.”

“Does this mean you are good at it, then? Before a drink?” you ask him. Is it hope in your voice? Or do you somehow know how hopeless he is, and are you teasing? He can’t tell. Regardless, clearly his evasion earlier wasn’t quite as successful as he hoped it would be.

“About that…” He chuckles, taking a sip from the bottle and glancing sideways at you. “I’m sure between the two of us, we’ll figure it out.”

“My knight in shining armour,” you say with a laugh, closing your fingers around his wrist and leading him through the door to your bedroom. You’ve managed to separate all of the individual pieces, but you haven’t made any real progress otherwise. He settles himself down on the floor and reaches for the assembly manual, pursing his lips as he looks at the little baggies of screws and bolts and various other things he doesn’t know the names of.

“Okay.” He frowns, looking back up at you where you’ve kneeled down a couple of feet away. You’re grinning innocently back at him, but Jihoon’s lips are more aligned with a pout. “You maybe should have mentioned that the instructions are in Swedish.”

——-

Ignoring the fact that you can’t understand the directions printed on the flimsy little pieces of paper, you get to work. It’s… an interesting process, but somehow between the pair of you, you successfully manage to assemble the bed in just under two hours by mostly following the diagrams (and having to backtrack several times because Jihoon managed to miss a few steps). At three minutes to nine, you’re both finally standing up off the floor, stretching out stiff joints and tight muscles; the bed is fully assembled and made up with your sheets in the centre of the room, headboard against the back wall, the lamp you set on the dresser casting a pleasant orangey glow on every surface.

“We did it,” you say, a little in shock, a lot exhausted, and absolutely starving. At least, that’s what he assumes you’re feeling, because it’s what he is. “We actually did it.”

“I mean, you did most of it,” Jihoon says. It’s true; at a point, he was just handing you the pieces you asked him for and holding parts steady so that you could fit them together. But if you want to call it a joint effort, he isn’t going to stop you, and the roll of your eyes tells him that you do want to call it that. 

“Shh. You helped,” you scold him, bumping his upper arm with your elbow. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, taking another sip of his water. Jihoon isn’t sure he believes you, but the way you’re challenging him to argue further with your tongue pressed against the inside of your cheek scrambles his brain. Any remaining argument dies on his lips. “We make a good team.”

“We do,” you agree, expression shifting into a shy smile, bumping his arm again, your elbow lingering against him for a second longer. “Come on, I think I promised to feed you, too. What are you in the mood for?”

A movie has been playing in the background for about an hour by the time your food arrives and you’ve eaten everything. Jihoon relaxes back against the cushions of the couch and you’re settled comfortably next to him: there’s plenty of space on either side of you both, so there isn’t really any need for you to have your upper arm basically pressing against his, but Jihoon is too comfortable to say anything and you certainly aren’t making any attempts to move away. You shift your legs after about ninety minutes, bringing them up underneath you so your thigh is pressed against his now, as well, and you’re twisted slightly so you’re physically facing him but your head is still turned towards the TV.

Everywhere your clothed body touches him is scorching, and he wonders if maybe he should’ve worn a thinner t-shirt, or at the very least something a little less heavy on his legs. His jeans, slightly tighter around the thighs than perhaps would be their peak level of comfort, are clinging to him everywhere and he’s so aware of himself, so aware of you, of your sweet body wash, your fruity shampoo, every single one of your breaths… He’s cursed people out for breathing too loudly around him before, but he thinks he could replace his white noise machine with an eight hour track of just this and he would sleep like a fucking baby.

One of your elbows is propped against the top of the cushions behind you and you’re resting your head in your palm, and (not for the first time this evening) he glances sideways to look at you. They’ve been fleeting glances thus far, only stealing fractions of a moment before he turns his attention back to the TV. But this? This is the wrong moment. Entirely the wrong fucking moment because as his head turns, so does yours, and you catch him in the act. Fuck, if he thought he was burning up, before? He’s pretty sure he’s somehow just descended straight to the second circle of hell, greeting all the other lusty sinners like old friends. Several of his thoughts tonight have been considerably impure, and in this half second of blistering eye contact, they all come rushing back.

The universe is really testing him this evening, and Jihoon is stumbling. It feels like any minute now, he’s going to explode.

He straightens his spine and looks back at the TV, trying to force his eyes to focus even though he’s completely swallowed by the feeling of your arm straightening across the back of the couch, your fingertips grazing over the skin at the bottom of his hairline. He can feel your eyes still on him, your gaze burning into his cheek, no doubt following as his tongue darts out subconsciously over his lips. But he can’t quite help himself, can’t get the image of how sweet you looked out of his head; he clears his throat quietly and looks over at you again, coming over almost completely blank the second he notices the glimmer your eyes hold when they’re trained on him. 

Any. Fucking. Minute. 

“Jihoon, I-…” you start to say, and he turns himself a little bit so that he’s facing you better, completely forgetting about the movie now. That’s not a great loss: he couldn’t explain the plot even if he tried. “I don’t know if-… you can tell me if I’ve read you wrong…”

“You haven’t,” he hurries. Relief starts to ease the tension between your brows, before you scrunch them again and cock your head to the side. “I’m sure you haven’t, I mean.”

In this new position, one of his legs is bent and sitting up on the couch beneath him and you’ve adjusted your own posture to accommodate. Your knee sits just over the top of his, more of your impossible body heat radiating through his clothes, and he glances down at the site of contact before he looks back at you. 

“I just-... I don’t know, I think I knew I was interested in you from the first time I saw you, but the last few weeks especially…” You’ve been rehearsing this. He can feel it. It’s written in your eyes, holding the weight of the words you’re struggling to say, and behind them he can see cogs turning as you try to get the words in the right order. (He knows how that goes, because he’s been trying to figure out how to tell you, too.) He nods, urging you to keep going.

“I can’t get you out of my head. I really like you.”

He short-circuits, then. Even though part of him knew what you were going to say, hearing it out loud flips a switch inside him and he stops functioning. Blinking at you slowly, lips parted, heart racing – he feels as if his brain has been sucked clean out of his ears and is floating somewhere way above his head. Way outside of a contactable range, way beyond any level of rational decision-making. Jihoon knows what he wants to say, of course – he knows that he wants to say that he likes you, and that he has for a while, and that maybe you should let him take you out on a date or something, but all of that sits just behind the barrier of his teeth, so…

He leans forward and kisses you, instead.

He almost can’t believe that he’s only wanted this for as short of a time as he has; it feels like it’s been building inside him for so much longer. Relief floods through his veins, the emotional dam finally breaching. It only lasts a few seconds, but with his lips pressed to yours and yours pressing back, the static in his brain goes quiet, the movie falls silent: everything stops, except you. He thinks you could’ve been carved from stone around each other — he thinks something just feels so inexplicably right. Your hand tightens in his hair and he gasps softly as he pulls an inch back, eyes heavily lidded and looking straight at you through his lashes. You move forward, leaning your forehead against his, and the feather-light hold he has on your chin slides up to your cheek instead. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know how to-…” he says after a long, long moment of remembering how to breathe, how to blink, how to exist in your space without combusting on the spot. He still isn’t sure he knows how to do any of those things, especially not now he can see every single line of your face this close. He’s trying, though. “But — shit, I’m crazy about you.”

You kiss him, then, harder than before, colliding in a mess of half-finished breaths and bumped, stinging noses. His other hand comes up to sit against your rib cage, yours pressing into the material of his t-shirt over his chest. He smiles and parts his lips as yours move against them, your tongue gently sweeping into his mouth, finding his own; a soft, low moan tickles the back of his throat, his fingertips curling slightly to tighten his hold. 

Jihoon isn’t sure how you end up on your knees, straddled astride his legs with one of his hands tucked between your thigh and calf, the other on the curve of your ass — he just knows that he doesn’t mind one bit. You’re warm and comfortable, the arch of your back pressing you into him deliciously. He’s kissing you like his life depends on it (he really fears that it might), and you’re doing the same back, licking against his tongue and rocking slightly with every separation and reconnection of your lips. He feels your fingers brush at the hem of his t-shirt and slip just underneath at the same moment as you pull away from him, and he’s so dazed, so fuzzy, so lost in you that he can only tilt his head back to stare up at your face. In your current position, you’re towering over him. It’s easily the best view he’s ever had.

“Can I-…?” you ask breathlessly. The new roughness to your voice goes straight to his cock and he has to restrain himself from bucking his hips upwards.

“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward slightly to try and aid you. Your hands tug at the bottom of his shirt and peel it up over his chest: he raises his arms slightly and soon, you can toss it to the unoccupied side of the couch. He shivers slightly as he relaxes back, both at the chill in your unheated apartment and upon noticing the way you’re staring down at him. It’s addictive. 

“Oh my God,” you whisper, jaw a little slack, smoothing your hands over his shoulders to feel every ridge of hard-earned muscle. You travel down his arms, over to his chest, down his stomach… Jihoon sucks in a breath, your warm hands absolutely searing against his skin, and his abdominals tighten beneath them. Tilting your head, you press a line of kisses down the side of his neck, your lips brushing against one almost unbearably sensitive spot when you continue. “Fuck, you’re so hot.”

He smiles bashfully, rolling his head to the side and giving you all the access you want. Your lips tickle euphorically against him as he tugs you flush against his chest, both his hands now tightly pressing against your ass, fingers kneading the muscle concealed by your pants. You’re sitting right over his clothed cock and he’s reasonably sure he can feel your pulse between your thighs, letting out a soft grunt when you roll your hips deliberately down into his own. Your kisses travel to the swell at the curve of his shoulder before moving back up to his lips, where he meets you with a fire that he’s never kissed anyone with, before.

“Says you,” he murmurs into your mouth, your teeth clashing, his hips pushing slightly up off the couch. Just enough to make you sit back from him, just enough for Jihoon to open his eyes and look at you. His hair, thoroughly scrunched up and pulled around by your desperately gripping fingers, fans out at all sorts of angles and his chest has taken on a rosy hue since you last looked at it. With swollen, shiny lips, glossy eyes, breathing deep, he looks completely blissed out, like a man who could unravel beneath you if you moved just right. All from a little tongue action. He’d usually feel embarrassed, but it’s hard to when you’re the person on top of him; to be honest, neither of you would mind much if he did.

You’re pushing yourself up and off him before he can really get his bearings and an audible whine of despair parts his lips at the loss of your weight against his cock. Fuck, these jeans were a bad idea: he’s straining against the denim so much that it hurts, and there’s a near perfect outline of his hard-on. He stops pouting the second you take hold of his hand and tug him upright, though, your eyes dark and determined and intense. He thinks he might faint, actually: from standing too fast and feeling as though all the blood in his body is pulsing through his aching dick, he has to take a moment to stop the edges of his vision going dark before you’re pulling him through to your bedroom.

Something flips inside him the second you have him there. Jihoon, who was more than happy to sit beneath you and let you take all the control in the living room, is pushing you back onto the mattress by your shoulder and slotting himself between your parted thighs the moment the door is closed behind him. He’s past the point of wanting you, now: he needs you, and he needs you to need him, too. 

And God, do you. You prop yourself up on one elbow, staring at where he’s now leaning over you with wide eyes and your bottom lip drawn between your teeth. He bends down and kisses along your jawline in response, nipping gently just below your ear. Your back arches up and in a flash, one of his hands is beneath you, snapping open the clasp on your bra with a few slides of his fingers.

“Wh-…” you start, giggling and panting at the same time. He smirks against your pulse point. 

He flattens his tongue against you and licks a salty bead of sweat off your skin. “What?”

“Had no idea you could-…” You’re cut off by a gasp as one of his hands slides under your sweater, slipping beneath the garment he just unfastened. His fingertips graze over your breast and a pleading sob escapes you. His smile grows even wider. “You were so…”

“So what?” he prompts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Another one of those beautiful sounds breaks the air above you. He does it again, massaging your breast with the palm of his hand. “Come on… talk to me.”

“So good,” you gasp, lying down flat and tilting your head back against the pillows. He rocks forwards to press his cock against you again and your thighs tighten around his hips, one leg hooking around his to keep him there. “So-… fucking good.”

You’re so impossibly irresistible to him, especially like this, and he sits up, settling on his knees to look down at you. Jihoon doesn’t even get the chance to move his hands towards the hem of your sweater to tug it off you though: you’re already grabbing it yourself, crossing your arms to pull it over the top of your head. He can see your bra now, and hell, it’s pretty even if it is just hanging off you. Baby pink and lacy. He thumbs over the material as he helps you pull it down your arms, briefly letting himself wonder if-…

“If only you’d been patient enough to see the set together.”

Oh, so you can read his mind now, too? 

You glance down to the small space between your bodies and his eyes follow, lips slightly parted, a heavy sigh on his breath. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck — he wishes he had. Even imagining it, he’s throbbing.

“You wear all this for me?” he asks, hands creeping up the insides of your thighs. You nod up at him and he smiles down at you. “Fuck. I bet you didn’t even need my help tonight at all, did you?”

You’re bucking your hips now as his thumb brushes, agonisingly slowly, over your clothed cunt. One arm has come up to cover your face: for the first time, he acts on his impulsive need to see you shy, see you needy, and leans over you to gently pull it away and pins your wrist down against the mattress. He kisses you, his fingers on the other hand pressing slightly more firmly to where he’s pretty sure your clit is.

“Y/n, you’re so pretty. Let me see you.”

“I didn’t,” you admit, voice wobbling as he works you up so much you’re actually soaking through not just your pretty underwear, but the leggings you’ve had on all night, too. He can feel it against the pad of his thumb and he raises his eyebrows for you to continue. “Just… really wanted you to come over…”

“Mhm. I know,” he soothes, bending low again and kissing down towards your chest. His lips purse over one of your nipples and he sucks it up into his mouth, flicking his tongue over the bud. He releases your wrist with the hand currently taking most of his weight and leans on his elbow, teasing your other tit with his fingers. The weight of it in his palm has him murmuring soft praises against your skin, telling you over and over how good you feel. You push up onto your elbows to try and press him closer — when his teeth tug just slightly, you’re about ready to beg.

“Jihoon, please,” you murmur. He short-circuits, again. Goes blank. His name has always sounded so much sweeter on your tongue, but this? This? Oh, he doesn’t know if he’s ever going to recover. That sound is going to stick in his head for days, months, forever, if he has anything to say about it. But even if his brain isn’t working, his body moves on autopilot: he sits up and hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your pants down your legs and discarding them onto the floor. 

He’s staring between your thighs with zero functioning brain cells and literal galaxies in his eyes, trying to figure out what cosmic miracle brought someone like you into his life, how on Earth he’s ended up between your thighs. The question is so overwhelming in his mind that he barely notices that you’re moving, at first. Jihoon doesn’t know what causes you to try and bring your thighs together — if it’s shyness or arousal, desperation, a search for friction? — but he stops you as soon as he realises, laying a hand on each of your legs, pinning your knees down now, instead.

“Keep your legs wide for me?” he asks, to which you punctuate a nod with an assenting hum. “Good girl.” 

You’re so wet that when he strokes two fingers over your covered pussy, pressing the fabric of your panties into your heat, they come away thinly coated in the arousal that’s seeped through them. He brings his fingers to his lips then, eyes fluttering as he licks your slick off them. You taste otherworldly and he doesn’t hesitate to tell you so with a groan.

“God,” he murmurs, tugging at the waistband of your panties with his other hand. His eyes ask if you’re ready — if you’re sure, and when you nod down at him, he pulls them off completely too. His middle finger slips between your folds, collecting the wetness dribbling out of you, and he drags it slowly upwards towards your clit. He repositions himself again, leaning down over you with his head at your neck, the heel of his hand resting against your lower abdomen. He draws small circles over the bud, laying open-mouthed kisses at your collarbone and listening to the gorgeous sounds you make, learning what you like, following each gasp and moan and chasing as many of them as he can draw out of you.   

At the same time as you start rocking your hips up to meet his hand, your nails scratching gently against his scalp again, Jihoon slips his finger down from your swollen clit to press it inside you. You gasp, high-pitched and needy, your cunt spasming around his finger and pulling it in deeper. He’s only in up to his second knuckle but the way you keen for him has him pushing further until it’s buried inside your pussy completely. 

“S’this okay?” he asks, but he knows your answer thanks to your vocal responses to him already slowly easing his finger in and out, in and out. You nod your head almost aggressively as he glances up at your face, your eyes squeezed tightly shut, jaw tense, throat bobbing as you swallow hard. 

“More — please,” you say not long after. A breath hitches in your throat when he does exactly what you ask, pressing the heel of his hand against your clit and positioning another finger at your entrance. He flexes his wrist slightly to get comfortable, pumping both fingers into you now, and he curls them upwards at just the right time to make your back arch off the bed. “Fuck — mhm, just like that—…”

He moves down your body slightly, reattaching his lips to one of your nipples as he fingers you deep and slow. He’s in no rush: Jihoon thinks he could do this all day and just deal with the RSI later on. You look so unbelievably hot with your face scrunched in pleasure, your thighs quivering as you fight to keep them apart like he asked you to, with your hips twisting down against his hand to try and get his fingers deeper and faster. When he lowers himself all the way down, settling completely between your thighs, he flicks his tongue out over your clit and your back arches up off the bed with a gasp.

“Don’t stop,” you whine, all high-pitched and rushed, both syllables merging into one hurried sound. “Fuck, fuck — please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not going to,” he murmurs, keeping pace and rhythm as he works you towards your high. God, he thinks there couldn’t possibly be anything in the world more sexy than watching you come undone from this angle. Your chest rising and falling in stuttered breaths, your hips rocking down against his hand, your pussy right on his mouth. Just the thought of it has his cock jumping in his boxers. “You gonna come for me, huh?”

“I-…” you start, releasing your death-grip on the bedsheets to bring a hand to cover your face. He clears his throat deliberately — perhaps it’s sort of closer to a growl than a cough — and he thinks maybe you really can read his mind, or maybe you’re learning that he wants to see every inch of you (especially like this), because a second later, it’s tangled up in his hair and holding him in place. “Y-yeah, fuck, I…”

“Good girl,” he coos again, and that breaks you. Your pussy tightens around his fingers and you feel yourself convulse, muscles clenching and releasing as you go over the edge with a cry. He eases you through your climax, tongue laving over your clit, fingers slowing but not stopping inside your cunt until your thighs close around his head in your oversensitivity. He takes the hint, then, and he slowly pulls away, sucking his fingers clean of your arousal while you take a few breaths to recover.

“Oh, my God,” you sigh as he moves back up and starts pressing small pecks over your chest and collarbones, your fingers lacing through his hair again to pull him up to kiss you. You groan softly at the taste of yourself on his lips, and can’t blame you. He still isn’t over it, either.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you in-between kisses, one hand supporting the back of your neck to keep you close. “So pretty. So sweet. So good.”

“Shh,” you giggle, but he doesn’t. Just about every adoring adjective Jihoon has in his arsenal is murmured against your lips until you’ve gathered enough strength to get up on your knees and push him back onto the mattress, fumbling with the button of his jeans. 

He groans at the relief as you tug them down over his hips and thighs. “We don’t have to do anything else if you’re—”

“Shh.” This one’s a little more insistent, and he makes a show of clamping his lips back together. “You wore the tightest jeans on the planet, had your cock on-fucking-display for me all evening, and you think I wanna stop now?”

His jaw falls slack at the words that come out of your mouth. The incredulous way with which you say them has him involuntarily bucking up into nothing. Your expression matches his when you finally get his jeans all the way off and his thin, black boxer-briefs are the only barrier between you. The outline of his cock strains against them, tenting the fabric: Jihoon doesn’t miss the way you lick over your lips before glancing up at him through your eyelashes. It’s your turn to give him the look, now, asking that this last part is okay, with your fingertips hooked underneath the elastic waistband. He nods feverishly up at your heavy gaze.

“Please,” he groans, lifting his hips so you can pull them off. His length springs free the moment they’re pulled low enough, slapping back against his abdomen, sitting pretty against his toned muscles, thick and veiny and red-tipped. Desperate. His underwear joins the pile of clothes down the side of the bed as you throw one leg over him; sitting across his thighs, you take his cock into your hand, giving it a few gentle strokes. He fucks up into your palm when you squeeze your fingers around it.

“I need you so fucking bad,” you murmur, head spinning, and Jihoon isn’t in much of a better state himself; he’s fighting to keep his eyes open, fighting to keep his breaths coming. He sits upright, one arm behind him for support, and kisses you hard as you continue to tug at his length. 

“Need you, too,” he breathes, shifting so he has both arms around you. In a swift movement, muscles rippling, he lifts you off him and turns you over so he has you sitting on your now impossibly scrunched comforter.

He finds home back between your legs as you reach over into the drawer at your bedside and fumble around for a few seconds. He hears a little clatter and a rustling and when your hand resurfaces, you’ve pulled free a small foil square. You don’t even give him a chance to lean forward and take it; you’re ripping it open and looking up at him with the biggest doe-eyed stare he thinks he’s ever seen. He nods at the silent question, a grunt tumbling free as you roll the condom down his length. This is the most pathetic little bit of contact and he’s fighting demons.

“Okay?” he asks, shuffling back a little and giving you space to lie down flat on your back. You nod up at him, already wrapping your arms around his shoulders. 

“Mhm, just-... take it slow?” you ask him, anticipation rendering you already a little breathless. “S’been a while.” 

A grin blooms all the way from his lips to his eyes and he leans down to kiss you again, positioning his tip at your hole and pressing forward just enough to tease.

Your thighs tighten around his hips and he pushes himself further inside you with a stuttered groan, agonisingly slowly, inch by inch. He stills every few seconds, both to give you the time to adjust and so that he can take a steadying few breaths and not collapse at how good you feel wrapped around him; he stops pressing his hips forward before he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy and you let a whine slip, the stretch slowly easing. 

“You can move,” you tell him, laying a kiss to his chest. “I’m okay.” 

Jihoon gives a soft laugh. Oh, he wishes this was just to be polite, but no. He’s in real danger of losing control any second. “Yeah, this isn’t for you, baby.”

“Oh?” you ask. You clamp around him and he gasps at the tightness, hips jerking forward until he’s buried up to the hilt. Fuck, there’s a bruised cervix if you’ve ever had one; a high-pitched whine erupts out of your lips and he ducks his head down to your ear.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “You just-... fuck, you feel so good.”

“Mm, says you.” 

It’s another moment before he thrusts with intent, though. But when he does? When he pulls out halfway before sliding all the way back inside you, losing and regaining the feeling of your heat enveloping him entirely, hearing your gasps against his collarbone? The invisible reigns holding him back unravel and he settles into a slow but intensely deep rhythm, guiding your legs around his waist. You hook your ankles behind his back and somehow, you suck him in deeper still, your bodies touching everywhere they possibly can, so impossibly close.

The arm not holding his weight slides beneath your hips and raises them just a little. Now, at this angle, every time he rolls into you he grazes against your sweet-spot and you’re reduced to an incoherent mess within a few minutes. Good, he thinks, because he’s not doing much better, himself.

You hug him tighter after one particularly well-angled thrust, sinking your teeth into the muscle of his shoulder. He hisses at the sting, and your lips part as if you’re about to apologise but he doesn’t give you the chance to; he bumps your nose with his own to ask you to lift your head slightly, before he bends down and kisses you hard.

“Do that again,” he gasps, almost all of his weight against you as the hand not around your hips comes up to rest on your cheek. When your brows tighten, he swipes his thumb over your spit-covered, swollen lips. “Please. ”

So, you do.

Maybe not as harshly as the first time, but your teeth find his collarbone and you suck a bruise into his skin, drawing from him the highest pitched sound you think he could possibly make. He squares his jaw, ducking his head back down, biting on his bottom lip before he has no choice but to speak.

“I’m close, y/n,” he confesses, fucking into you slower, trying to stave it off for a few more seconds, his hips stuttering. “Can-... can you give me one more…?”

You nod, the knot in your stomach already growing tighter and tighter with every movement he makes, and when one of your hands unwinds from around his back to slide between your sweat-slicked bodies, he moves slightly away, letting you reach down.

It’s the sight of two of your fingers finding your clit and rubbing your favourite movements out on yourself that takes him past the point of no return, his cock sliding in and out of you messily, desperately, chasing the high that he’s right on the brink of. He kisses and nips just below your ear, breathy groans tickling your neck, and your high-pitched whine tells him you’ve hit your orgasm just as he starts to spill his into the condom, gushing around him, your walls fluttering and milking him for all he’s worth. 

—

You offer for him to shower first – an offer he gratefully accepts. While you’re taking your turn afterwards, Jihoon hunts down a fresh duvet cover in your room; he changes it, grabs you a glass of water for when you’re done, and sits on the edge of his bed with just the towel wrapped around his waist, scrolling through his phone. He looks up with a bright grin as the door opens and you emerge through it in your pyjamas, glowing from the light behind you, stray droplets of water clinging to your arms. 

You pause gently rubbing your hair dry with the towel, eyes brightening when you see him. “You didn’t have to do all this,” you say, and he pushes a hand through his own still damp hair with a laugh.

“It was the least I could do,” he counters. You raise your eyebrows at him, crossing the room to sit opposite him. He drops his phone down onto the mattress. “I couldn’t leave and make you change them yourself.”

“Leave?” you ask, picking up one of his hands and playing idly with his fingers. 

“I mean, it’s getting pretty late, so…” he says. “I probably need to get going at some point.”

“Or…” you say, tongue darting out over your lips. “Maybe you don’t.”

Jihoon looks down at your hands, then back up at you. Are you suggesting what he thinks you are, or has he still not quite come back to himself from earlier? It’s hard to say if the look on your face is hope, or something else.

“Are you… asking me to stay?” he asks. 

“Only if you want to,” you tell him. He lifts your hands up, pressing a kiss to one of your knuckles, then using it to tug you closer to him until he can plant one on your own lips. “I’ve probably got an old t-shirt you could sleep in.”

“Of course I want to.”

So you slip away from him to go rummaging through your drawers, trying to find the promised article of clothing. The whole time, he’s awestruck. Jihoon can’t take his eyes off you.

——————

He wakes up next to you for the first time on a Saturday morning. His sleep-fogged brain registers lying on an unfamiliar mattress, tucked beneath new bedsheets, eyes fluttering open to take in a room he doesn’t quite recognise at first. Part of him wonders if he’s still dreaming. When he rolls over onto his side, and his eyes land on the curve of your shoulders, the fall of your hair down your back, he has to ask himself the same thing again. 

All of last night must’ve been a dream, he muses, smiling shyly to himself and watching your frame rise and fall with every slow breath you take. There’s no way you really told him you liked him, too. There’s no way any of it could have really happened.

“Y/n?” He asks in the gentlest of whispers, only wanting to stir you if you’re awake already. When there’s no response, he moves a tiny bit closer to you, hesitating before he slips his arm around your waist and settles with his chest pressed against your back. A wildly insecure part of his brain tries to argue that just because you wanted what happened last night, that doesn’t mean you want all of this now. Maybe you only wanted to sleep with him, or maybe you’ll have changed your mind somehow now the sun’s come up. He considers moving away again, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling until you wake up and he can have a real conversation about where both of your heads are at with everything, but he barely gets a chance.

Those thoughts are silenced almost immediately, his brain falling quiet the second you roll over in his arms. You bury your head in the valley between his pectorals, tucked away from the world beneath his chin. His arms tighten around your sleep-warmed body.

“What time is it?” You ask. He contains a shiver at the softness of your voice, bliss running the length of his spine. Jihoon thinks that he could get used to this.

“I don’t know. Early, I think,” he murmurs, and you whine softly, burrowing deeper against his chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“Not if you’re awake,” you say. He’s not entirely convinced you can stick to that promise, though, with the way you yawn and he feels your eyelashes fluttering. 

“Don’t worry about me,” he tells you, the tips of his fingers ticking against your side. He ducks his head, pressing a kiss to your hair. A soft hum rumbles in your throat and he can’t hold back the smile that spreads over his lips. “It’s okay. I don’t mind.”

True enough, you fall back asleep curled up against him and Jihoon, to the sounds of your slowing breaths, drifts off too. A few hours later, at a far more reasonable time, you wake him up with a press of your lips to the tip of his nose.

Innocent, exploratory kisses grow heated in the warmth of the sun that streams through your blinds. Hands start to travel, sleep clothes get discarded, and you have him lying on his back, pressing kisses down his chiselled stomach when his phone starts to vibrate on the floor next to the bed.

He groans at the distraction, again as you shuffle up to sit on your knees and look at him expectantly. 

“Are you gonna answer that?” you ask, the tips of your fingers grazing his thighs. He shakes his head, no. “Come on, Jihoon. It might be important.”

“Not important enough,” he sighs. 

“At least see who it is,” you laugh. Despite a huffed protest, he props himself up on one elbow, leaning over the side of the bed and glancing down at his phone screen.

Seungcheol.

The arrangement to go for a run this morning comes rushing back to Jihoon, who slaps a hand to his forehead and reaches down to grab his phone off the floor, looking at you apologetically.

“Give me two seconds,” he says, and you grin wickedly up at him, ducking low to press a kiss to one of the lines that disappears down into his boxers. 

“Take all the time you need.”

He answers the call frowning, flopping his head back against the pillows. 

“Hey, look – I’m really sorry,” he starts to say, but Seungcheol’s voice cuts him off almost straight away.

“Jihoon, where the hell are you? I got to your apartment and your car wasn’t here, and Seokmin said he didn’t hear you come home last night. We all thought you’d died,” he hurries. Jihoon can picture the expression on the other man’s face perfectly, which is pretty unfortunate seeing as how you’ve moved to start palming his hardening cock through his briefs.

“I stayed out,” Jihoon says, a little wobbly. “I can’t make the run, someth-... shit.” You press an open-mouthed kiss to the outline of his length, the heat of your breath through the fabric sending him into overdrive. “Something came up-...”

The line goes silent for a second, and his breath stutters as you do the same thing again. Each press of your lips is euphoric agony, and he’s really not hiding this as well as he wishes he could. One look down at you tells him that you’re very proud of that.

“Dude,” Seungcheol gasps, snickering suddenly. “Tell me you’re not with a girl right now.”

“Shut up. Go away,” Jihoon grunts. “I’ll call you later.”

“Oh my God, is it gym girl? Did you finally-...”

“Bye, Cheol,” he hurries, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He drops his phone onto the mattress, fake-glaring down at you and shaking his head. “You’re the worst, you know that?”

“Yeah?” you ask, pulling at the waistband of his briefs to tug them down his legs. “Let me make it up to you, huh?”

TOO MUCH

18+ / mdi

summary: after a few weeks of constant overtime work slouching over a desk, you feel as if your back is about to give out on you. fortunately for you, your best friend seungcheol is a professional masseuse! unfortunately for you, you're unsure of how you'll keep your crush on your best friend at bay while on his massage bed, ass up and oiled up.

content: masseuse!seungcheol, friends to lovers, pining (act surprised), touch-starved reader, inexperienced reader, very uninformed view of what being a masseuse is like oops, afab reader, smut, fingering, oil is involved, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 7.9k

a/n: as someone who's had horrible back pain ever since i was a child, this is based on mostly real events </3 also not 100% proofread

masterlist

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Your back was killing you.

It had been weeks since you'd gotten some proper rest, having made the terrible decision to take on some overtime at work, not knowing that your supervisor would get so used to the extra help she would continue to schedule you more hours week after week, thus destroying your back in the process. You knew that you could simply say no, but the extra money was helpful. You had wanted to start saving up a little more so you could finally move out of your shitty neighborhood, so the situation kind of worked out. The money would also go to paying your student loans, meaning you really couldn't miss this chance for an increase in income. It was kind of a win-win situation, except your poor back was the sole loser.

Your job didn't involve too much movement, no. It was mostly office work, which required you to sit on your hunched back for 10 hours per day, only allotting yourself for three quick 15-minute breaks and a 30 lunch break in which you would still be hunched over as you ate. You knew it was a bad habit, but sitting there for so many hours, you'd forget to sit up straight as you looked into the computer screen, and even if you fixed your posture while working, your back was just not built for standing still for such long periods of time. There was really no saving your back from its stiff fate at this point. These work hours also didn't allow you time to even work out or stretch in order to keep your body at least a little active and maybe prevent your pain a tiny bit.

Your best friend Seungcheol constantly scolded you over your bad posture. It wasn't like you actually had bad posture, okay? You weren't constantly hunched over, nor were you carrying all your weight on your shoulders. This was a recent development resulting directly from your increased work hours. But Seungcheol, being a masseuse, always noticed the slightest changes in your physique, claiming he could spot a sore back from a mile away, with yours being a very obvious case. He could notice your head standing a little lower, digging into your shoulders more and more as the days went by. He also took notice of your constant wincing and your futile attempts at rubbing your own shoulders whenever the soreness got too annoying.

He pitied you, really. He hated seeing you in pain. Being your best friend, he felt it as his duty to try and relieve it in any way he could. On top of having most of your free time being taken over by work, he hated to think that you were also in pain during the few hours you spent away from the office. He had communicated all these concerns to you over the past few weeks, trying to convince you to let him give you a massage in order to relieve the pain, but you'd consistently refused. He was unsure as to why, and being denied a proper reason made him want to keep on insisting until you finally allowed him to rid you of your discomfort.

"One massage won't fix my issues," you'd argued over and over again. To which he simply responded by saying he could just give you a standing appointment every week! He was very insistent on helping you, wanting to relieve you of at least some of the pain. But you were even more insistent in denying him. You were too busy to use up the little bit of free time you had going to the spa Seungcheol worked at. You also didn't think a massage would really be the ultimate solution, despite how badly your sore shoulders begged for relief. Yeah, sure, a massage might alleviate the pain for a bit, but it would simply come back after another week at the office. That, and the fact that the spa Seungcheol worked at was only open during your work hours, meaning you'd have to either haul ass over there during your thirty minute lunch, or take time off. Both were huge no's to you. There were just far too many reasons as to why not take him up on his offer, you argued both to him and yourself. But you knew these were simply excuses. Your main reason had been something you'd kept deep within yourself. You were starving for his touch, but scared of how your body would react to it.

You were generally an averagely touchy person with friends and family. Not overly touchy, but arguably an appropriate amount. It had only been a little over a year or so since you'd begun to feel a bit strange at the lack of intimate touch you'd experienced thus far in your life. While all your friends had experimented and had fun during college, you were a little shier and more reserved, rendering you a bit behind the rest of the herd in that area. It wasn't very noticeable to all. It wasn't like your friends were aware about how sexually frustrated you'd grown over the years due to your lack of experience, but you'd still tried to keep it a secret how unaccustomed you were to more intimate forms of physical touch. Even something as innocent as a massage from a friend. You'd be as touchy as any friend would expect, but still felt a slightly strange sensation when it came to any mention of more intimate activities. You'd somehow grown used to a lack of touch, despite being best friends with the touchiest person alive. You usually avoided being too physically affectionate with Seuncheol anyways, having harbored a small crush on him when you'd first met and wanting to avoid any of your emotions getting in the way of a friendship you treasured so much. You'd known that a massage from the man would be a huge nono, all things considered, which was where all your denials stemmed from.

You had been friends with Seungcheol since college. You had both shared a major, meaning that you kept bumping into each other day after day, attending almost all the same classes freshman year. You had taken a quick liking to each other, befriending one another almost immediately. Despite having had a crush on the man at first sight, you were content with the friendship that had blossomed instead. You'd even ended up joining Seungcheol's little friend group, being friends with most of them even to this day. This unexpected closeness during your first year led you to coordinate your schedules the following three years, thus seeing each other literally every day you were on campus. Even now, having recently graduated college, you were still best friends, meeting up constantly. Despite sharing a major, you both had ended up in drastically different places after college. You had gone for the corporate route while Seungcheol suddenly developed a passion for physical therapy, eventually becoming a massage therapist. At the time, however, he worked at a luxury spa downtown, being known as one of their best masseuses and singlehandedly earning the establishment an increase from a four-star rating to five stars just from the quality of his work alone.

You had visited Seungcheol's work before, quickly deciding it just wasn't your vibe. The place was nice and perfectly polished, but upon seeing a few of the masseuses' skills in action, you realized it'd be better for your friendship if you avoided such intimate contact with one another. Yes, you knew massages were not inherently intimate, but being oiled up and felt up by someone who was as close to you as Seungcheol just didn't ring like a good idea to you. It also didn't help that the massive crush you had on the man in college seemed to be resurfacing as of late. You believed to have gotten over it a few months into senior year, but you didn't want to risk reviving it under any circumstances.

However, despite your constant rejections, Seungcheol continued to beg you to let him take care of your problem, and denying him was something that pained both you and your back. So you now found yourself with two issues; back pain, and a very pouty Seungcheol.

"Fuck, my back is killing me," you repeated for the millionth time in the past five hours since you had woken up. You had intended to enjoy your rare day off, even waking up a little earlier than intended so you could make plans with your roommates, but your plans quickly died on you as soon as you woke up, body stiff as a rock and your soreness worse than ever.

"We get it! You're in pain. So go do something about it!", whined your friend Seungkwan in return, not even bothering to look at you from his phone, "It's bad enough I had to cancel my plans to stay here and take care of you. Just go get oiled up by Cheol and stop making this my problem!"

If there was anything Seungkwan was, it was direct. He was right. Your pain was getting out of hand. And the longer you waited, the worse it would get. Except he didn't know about your calamity to its full extent.

"Listen, I don't even have the money to afford his fancy spa. Have you been there? One day is worth a whole day's pay!"

"Please. It's Seungcheol. He'll get you in for free. Hell, he'll even pay you to go."

"I don't have time to go!", another excuse. A few more and Seungkwan might even begin to crack the code behind your insistent refusal.

He suddenly straightened up from his laid-back position, staring directly in your direction, "All the solutions are there. You're the problem. It's like you want to be in pain! I could literally call him up right now and he'd drop work to come help you. Just get the damn massage!"

This is how a lot of your conversations went lately. Well, the very few conversations you could have nowadays due to your heavy workload. You'd occasionally even have to bring work home even after having been there for half the day. Your eight hours of sleep a night were not even pleasurable anymore, as you felt stiff as a rock the moment you attempted to lay down. The only comfortable stance, ironically, was hunched over in front of a computer. It was like you'd frozen into that pose, feeling immeasurable pain any time you attempted to move any other way. You'd tried pilates, stretches, yoga. Nothing worked. Maybe Cheol's massage really was the only solution, but it'd been so long since you began denying him you now felt a little silly going back on your word. That, and your other obvious issues.

"I'll be fine, Kwan! Just leave. You don't have to take care of me, I just need to lay for a bit."

"You'll lay there all day, I know you. Your life's become a constant state of sleep and work. Maybe you should just quit," he suggested, seemingly moving on from the Cheol topic. Finally.

"Are you crazy? Do you have any idea how much debt I have to pay off? I don't wanna be paying this off for the rest of my life. I'd rather suffer for a few years now and just get it out of the way," you reasoned, although not sounding very reasonable even to yourself. What's the rush?, a voice in the back of your head would sometimes whisper, but you'd just ignore it.

"Fine," he tsk'd. "Rot in your own misery, I'm going out with Kyeom and Soonie. If I come back and you've morphed into a rock, don't say I didn't warn you," and with that, he announced his departure, going forward with the plans you had made with your friends before your back had gotten in the way.

You knew your friend was kidding, but the unbearable pain would sometimes have you wonder. Should you just go to Cheol? What was the worst that could happen of you just let him touch you? His touch would be purely platonic, you were sure of that. But you feared that it would rekindle your feelings even more, and maybe that your high-strung self would not be able to handle such touch from him without finally snapping.

You were weak. This wasn't much of a secret among your friend group, or anyone really. Which is why you now found yourself walking through the doors of Seungcheol's spa. You had spent about an hour rotting in your own misery, as Seungkwan had put it, before deciding to power through your pain and drive down to where you knew Seungcheol was currently working a shift. You hadn't called him, not wanting to give him the wrong impression. You weren't planning on booking a massage today, no. You couldn't have even if you wanted, knowing that the spa Seungcheol worked at was a bit renown in town and that their bookings went weeks back. You had just wanted to give it another try. Maybe visual learning would convince your stubborn self to accept Cheol's help for once.

You entered the establishment, already knowing exactly where to go to find out about Seungcheol's whereabouts. You walked to the receptionist, opening your mouth to ask for assistance before being rudely interrupted.

"Sorry. We're booked for the day. Our next open bookings begin in December. Try again then," the conversation had ended before it began, causing you to close your mouth right back up.

Once more, you opened your mouth to speak, maybe respond in equally passive aggressive tone as the girl had, but you were rudely interrupted once again, except this time it was by a warmer, more welcoming voice.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?", you could not see him from your angle, needing to turn around to face the source of the sound, but you could instantly hear the smile in his voice, clearly both happy and shocked to find you here of all people.

You turned around, now facing the boy. He was wearing his usual 'uniform', which really just consisted of some tight black slacks and a matching black short-sleeve top tucked into his pants. You'd forgotten how well his uniform fit him. It must've been one of the reasons why his massages were rated so high, you thought.

"Hey, Cheol ..." you smiled awkwardly, having been caught off guard by the man. You'd meant to surprise him, not the other way around.

"I wasn't expecting you. Did you call? Did you make an appointment?!", his eyes widened at the possibility, looking past you and at the receptionist as if to confirm his inquiry.

"No, Cheol. I told you I didn't want a massage. I came to see you, actually," well that was half true. You had wanted to see your friend in his element, maybe even convince yourself of finally taking him up on his offer. You had just wanted to see if you could handle that type of touch from your best friend considering your situation (re: a recovering case of touch starvation with a mixture of 'I might kind of maybe still have a bit of a crush on my bff').

To be completely honest, you were somewhat afraid. You'd hadn't felt any form of intimate touch in a long while or, well, ever. And to have it come from your best friend would only open up a can of worms you had wanted to keep under lock and key ever since meeting the man. Every excuse you'd given thus far to reject him bad been true, but had also been just that; an excuse. You knew that Seungcheol's treatment would help you lessen an issue that had now grown past your own personal ability to manage on your own. Which is why you were now here, willing to give it a try. You had self control, right? What was the worst that could happen if you let your best friend get his hands on you, your bare back as he rubbed it with oil? You'd deal with the logistics later, now you just wanted to see exactly what your friend was offering you.

"Me? What's up?", he had begun to walk you towards his rest area, away from the mean receptionist as he continued conversation with you.

"Well, I, uh, I was thinking about your offer ..."

"Really?! You wanna do it? I can clear up my schedule! Just let me talk to Stacy real quick and-"

"Cheol!", you had to physically hold him back from walking back to the reception to rearrange his day. He seemed way too excited to help you out.

"I haven't decided yet, Cheol. I was just thinking, well, wondering if it'd be okay for me to maybe shadow you for a while or something? Just to see what it'd be like?"

To any outsider you must've sounded like an idiot, somehow worrying over something that was arguably the most relaxing experience a person could possibly have. Ironically. What people didn't understand was the effect Seungcheol could have on a person. Specially a touch-starved, heavily emotionally invested, weak individual such as yourself. Denying your crush on Seungcheol was really the only defense you had left at this point. You could admit to your fears of being touched by Cheol, chalking it up to your lack of experience at being touched in general, but you could not even admit that your crush had maybe, perhaps, possibly, creeped back up a while back. It didn't help that no one you knew was aware of your sensitive state when it came to intimate contact. This was intel you hadn't even let your best friend in on. Maybe if it had been someone else, you would've accepted the massage already. You knew it didn't have to be an intimate interaction, it was just the fact that Cheol would be doing it that made it seem that way to you. But you knew his feelings would be hurt if you denied him and went to someone else. You'd dragged it out for far too long, making such a simple thing way too complicated.

~

Cheol easily agreed to your request, seemingly excited to even have you around his workplace at all. It was cute, really. He let you know that his next booking would start in ten minutes or so, so you waited with him during his break. Despite not receiving a massage for yourself, he provided you with a robe to change into due to the humidity most of their rooms tended to have during a session.

"Are you sure it's okay that I'm here? Won't the client mind?"

"Nah. She's a regular, she tends to forget her own name five minutes in," he winked at you. Well, that was reassuring ..

The massage began soon after. The woman, probably in her early 40's, walked in, gave Seungcheol a friendly greeting and proceeded to lay down, barely even acknowledging your presence in the back of the room. Cheol gave some weak excuse of 'she's in training, just showing her the ropes' to justify your presence, earning an uninterested hum in acknowledgment from the woman before she had begun taking off her robe and gotten on the bed in preparation for her awaited session. She was't fully naked but had very thin underwear on, meaning you could practically see every detail from her back. Her face-down position gave you a perfect angle to her almost-bare ass as Seungcheol prepared the oils he had set on the table beside him. There was also some incense burning in the room, along with some steam to help with ambience.

The massage began very slowly, allowing Seungcheol to deliver very soft touches as he spread the oil around her back. He even went as far as the back of her legs and ass, reaching as far as her feet. The first few minutes simply consisted of him spreading the oil around. You hadn't known Seungcheol gave full body massages til now. Before having started the session, Cheol had told you 'Pay close attention. This is what I'll do to you when you agree.' Had he meant he'd be running his hands up and down your entire body? The thought made you shudder, almost missing the show in front of you.

His next movements were harsher, but in a clearly pleasurable way. He began to knead roughly at the woman's shoulders, making her groan at the pleasurable pain. He did this for a while, clearly having found a point of tension in that area. His thumbs focused on specific areas of tension that you were familiar with; the same areas you'd known your back had knots in. Even just seeing it made the sore parts of your back beg for release of tension. When he moved on, he targeted the upper center of her back, just below where her breasts were located on the opposite side of her body. He rubbed at the sides, sliding his hands up and down the length of her back as he massaged expertly. He continually used the extra strength of his thumbs to pressure and rub at the sore spots. He didn't even have to ask where it hurt, it seemed like he could just detect it on his own. This was clearly exerting the woman, as she moaned and sighed at the feeling of Seungcheol's hands on her. It was clearly exerting Seungcheol too, who was letting out groans from his own efforts.

You imagined yourself in her position, wanting to be the sole receiver of his touches and sounds. You felt ashamed, but the act was making your body heat up. You knew it was purely innocent, and with the purpose of relaxation, but you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to blame the humidity in the room, or maybe the cozy material of your robe, but there was only one culprit; Choi Seungcheol. You had been right to believe that his touch would be your undoing. Simply hearing him was enough to make you lightheaded. You had lost track of where the massage had went, only thinking about the man in the room now. You cursed your vivid imagination for the images it was putting in your head just at the mere sounds coming from your friend.

The massage continued for a while, eventually sending the woman into a deep slumber. Cheol kept re-applying oil to her back throughout the session, even lowering his hands all the way to knead at her ass and the back of her legs during some points. That made you extra lightheaded. Not just at the thought of Seungcheol touching you in the same way, but knowing he'd have the magic touch able to release the tension trapped all over your back. You couldn't blame the woman for the sounds she made or the way she fell asleep due to the pleasure. You could only imagine your own reaction at Seungcheol doing the same to you. Even just seeing the way he rubbed at the skin had your back aching for the same release of pressure from the tightest spots on your back.

You were still slightly affected by the time the woman had woken up and left, leaving you and Cheol alone in the room, promising Seungcheol she'd be back soon as she exited. He approached you with a smile, clearly proud of having shown you his skills in action.

"So, what did you think?"

"I, uh, you're really good, Cheol. I'm surprised."

"Surprised? I've been telling you I'm the best for months! C'mon, there's no way you don't want a massage after seeing that," he rebutted, smirking with confidence.

You remained silent for a second, pondering as to whether or not you should move forward with this. He was right. He was clearly talented at it, and he really just wanted to help. Your aching back was begging for it, and so were the other aching parts of your body. But you didn't know if you could hold back without embarrassing yourself at your best friend's hands on you in such an intimate way.

Your best friend must've taken notice of your silence, speaking up again, but in a more serious yet sympathetic manner.

"Listen. I know you can be a bit .. shy about these things. If it helps, we can just set up at my apartment? I have a massage bed there too! It would just be the two of us. C'mon, what do you say?", he gave you puppy eyes as he usually did when asking for something.

He was always hard to deny. And in this vulnerable moment, with your back begging for relief and your body aching for his touch, you weren't surprised when you found yourself muttering a 'yes' in affirmation.

A few days passed. You and Cheol ended up having to coordinate your days off. It had actually been almost a full week until you were able to see each other again, which for you meant yet another week of grueling pain you had to put up with. You were really beginning to consider putting an end to the overtime you'd been working. Maybe after the massage you could begin to work less hours in order to lessen the pain. Maybe even take Cheol up on his offer of getting a standing appointment to lessen the pain more and more and prevent it from coming back again. It was something to think about. But now you had better things to worry about. Those things taking form in the man standing on the opposite side of the door in front of you.

You had agreed on today, a Saturday night, in order for you to come to his apartment and receive the dreaded massage. Cheol had worked all day today, which made you feel a bit bad about making him basically step back into his work duties but this time at home. He reassured you it was more than fine, reasoning that you'd worked all week and he had just wanted to work around your busy schedule. You appreciated his efforts to work with you, having always known Cheol to put your comfort before anything else. Which was yet another reason why you felt badly at receiving this favor from him. To anyone else it might've just been a massage, but you knew that to Cheol this was a service he was used to getting paid for, a talent which he put effort into. You felt like both like a leech and like a source of annoyance due to this whole ordeal.

You put all your thoughts aside and knocked on the door, knowing it was now time to forget about all your worries and just let Seungcheol take care of you. He opened the door almost immediately, almost as if he'd been waiting on the other side of it, ear against the door while your internal monologue went off in your head.

"You're here!", he smiled widely at you, ushering you in.

"You invited me, Cheol. I wasn't about to ditch you."

"But you thought about it, didn't you?", he kinda had you there. You did consider it, but you knew your best friend would've tracked you down sooner or later anyways.

"Listen, I know you're nervous, but there's nothing to be nervous about! I'll take care of you. It won't be awkward, I swear," despite having never told him of your lack of experience with touch, you always assumed he had some idea of it. He didn't know the full story, though. Not about the fact that your issue with the massage was being touched by him; the former source of your desires.

"It's .. it's fine, Cheol. I'm not nervous, I promise. Just don't know what to expect, that's all."

"I'll guide you through it. I set out the massage table for you in my room. I have the oils ready too. Oh! Did you bring a bikini to change into?"

Right. Last time you spoke he had asked you to bring either a bikini or some comfortable underwear. He's said something about needing your body as nude as possible ('within your comfort zone!', he'd quickly added) in order to give you a full massage. He also said the oils he used had a tendency of staining and leaving their strong fragrance on most fabrics. It was usually spa policy to provide customers with robes and such for their sessions, but being located in his home at the moment, he'd asked you to just bring your bikini directly.

You didn't feel any type of way about this, surprisingly. Having known Seungcheol for years, he'd seen you in a bikini as many times as you'd seen him shirtless and in very tiny swim trunks. The one thing, however, was the thought of him touching your bare skin, but it was too late to back out - not that you wanted to anyways.

"Y-yeah, it's in my bag. Did you wanna start right away or ..?"

"Yeah! Go get ready and I'll start preparing the oils for you. I'll also light some incense for ambience," and with that, he left you alone in the living room so that you could change without interruption. He went into his room to prepare things, closing the door to allow you some privacy.

You had chosen your skimpiest bikini. Not for any inferior motives! But because you knew Cheol needed access to your bare skin as much as possible. Your lower lower back had been killing you lately. Even more so than your shoulders, due to sitting all day every day. So you wanted to give him room to take care of that without any clothing getting in the way. You hastily got changed, deciding that you'd already waited long enough and that it was time to get this over with.

'Are you ready?", you heard Cheol ask from his room a few minutes later.

Ok, it was time. Anyone else would've been ecstatic at the thought of their crush rubbing all over their body, or at the idea of a free full-body massage. But you were too high-strung for your own good, which only increased your anxiety over the whole thing. However, you were now here, almost in the nude, only one door away from the man who would rid you of your pain and replace it with pleasure.

You stepped into the room without verbalizing a response, immediately meeting eyes with an expectant Cheol, who was organizing his oils as he awaited your arrival. He'd outdone himself, really. He had lowered the lighting in the room, lighting a few candles and some incense in order to turn up the spa ambience. The place smelled divine, and even the temperature was perfect. You could already feel yourself getting relaxed.

"Cheol, holy shit. This is too much. You didn't have to go so out of your way. This looks like an actual spa!"

"Only the best for my best friend," he gave his gummy smile in return, eyeing you as he directed you towards the massage table that was standing in the middle of the room. "You ready?"

"Yeah," you breathed out, accepting his stretched hand as he helped position you on the table.

He laid you face down on the table, but with your head turned to the side, as to not squish your features against the flat surface, "Try not to think too much, yeah? It'll feel so good, I promise. I'm gonna get rid of all tension in your body," the way he'd said it sounded promising, almost hinting at something more.

Without much warning, he began to softly run his hands up and down your body, going from your shoulders all the way down to your calves, almost as if sizing you up in order to come up with a game plan for your massage. Even that feather-like touch had you flinching a little. You'd never been caressed like this before.

"Shit, you're very high-strung. Even more than I thought," he chuckled in response to your body's reaction to such light touch.

"Cheol ..." you whined.

"Sorry. I'll start now, okay? You're gonna feel a little warm in a second. I'm gonna oil you up so it's easier for me to massage you, yeah? I picked my favorite scented oils for you."

You were thankful for the warning, because the warmth you felt immediately after made you swoon internally. You almost moaned out loud at the feeling of his hands lightly rubbing the oil all over your body. You were already affected and he hadn't even begun. It didn't take him long to actually start, however. He began with your neck, almost wrapping his hands all around it, but not closing them in on it. His thumbs were focusing on the lower part of the back of your neck, rubbing at spots you hadn't even realized were that sore.

"You're so tense, Jesus Christ," he was right. You could feel instant relief at his touch, pressing your body further into the soft material of the cushion of the table in pure relaxation.

He rubbed that area for a while, seemingly trying to target the knots located there. He then moved onto your shoulders, beginning to rub a little harder. He began to dig his thumbs into the problem areas, going extra hard at any points of tension. With this extra strength, also came his vocalization of his efforts. His groans of exertion began to fill the room, making you feel even more lightheaded than the massage itself.

"Shit, Baby. You're so fucking tight here."

The wording itself was killing you, but the way he touched you while doing it made you melt into the table, afraid you'd begin to vocalize your pleasure through the form of moans or whines. So far you'd been able to get away with soft breaths and maybe a gasp or two. But you knew that the moment you let go, you wouldn't be able to control the way your body would react to his touch. You were slightly terrified of what would come the lower he went down your body.

Then he threw you yet another curveball.

He leaned down, halting his movements for a moment, and put his mouth a few inches from your ear, "I can feel you tensing up. It's okay, I'll take care of you. You can relax for me."

You saw that as a green light to let go, whining a tiny 'uh huh' in response as he continued his movements.

He went lower and lower, now rubbing your lower back; the area right before the slope of your ass began, but he was quickly approaching it. Every area he had touched so far, he had undone. You felt like your back had been liberated of the huge weight it had been carrying for years. You were whining and moaning at the pleasure he was giving you, and also at the feel of his hands on your body. You felt yourself get wetter by the minute, having started to feel moisture down there from the moment he began massaging you. You were ashamed, but his touch so close to your biggest point of tension was driving you insane. You wanted him to forget about the massage and just flip you over.

"Okay, baby. Now I'm gonna do your ass, okay? Trust me, I know it sounds dumb, but a lot of people carry a lot of tension here"

He was right once again. As he massaged the muscle, you felt tension you didn't even know you had finally unwind. He repositioned you a bit, asking you to lift one of your legs to the side and let it hang a bit off of the side of the table. This angle lifted up your ass a bit, and disconnected your crotch from the table. You were slightly embarrassed, knowing that if he looked through a certain angle he'd be able to see you glisten with desire for him, but you chose to ignore it and hope for the best. Cheol was already helping you so much.

He continued for a few moments, occasionally going down and rubbing lightly at the back of your thighs and calves before coming back up to your lower back and butt. But he suddenly stopped at some point. You could've sworn you heard an intake of breath.

"Hey .. I'm gonna try a special technique. Is that okay?"

You were almost completely gone in pleasure by then, eyes becoming heavier by the minute. You didn't even have to think before saying yes.

You felt him lean his body more over the table, and also a bit over the lower half of your body. He was still just massaging your lower back with one hand, while making you bend your leg a little higher than before. You weren't sure what he meant by special technique, but you were down for anything had in mind. Except you hadn't expected what he would do next.

Having bent your leg forward, he had given himself the perfect angle of your pussy from behind, deciding to let his hand slip between your legs and run his fingers lightly over your folds. You gasped at this, repositioning yourself a bit to give him even more access. He took this as a welcoming sign, starting to run his hands up and down your pussy, stopping once in a while to rub at your swollen clit.

"Baby .. You're so tense here .. Let me help you? Yeah?" He said this as he continued to increase the intensity of his movements, rubbing more and more at your clit.

"Y-yes. Fuck. Please, Cheol ..." you whined, giving him permission to do whatever he wanted to you.

You yelped at his next movements. He had shoved his fingers inside with no warning, leaning down to kiss softly at your ass while he fingered you. The speed of his fingers wasn't too fast, but it was deep and calculated, dragging across all the places you needed him most. He was right, you did feel tense there, but his movements were relaxing you like nothing else could.

"Is it working, baby? Am I making you feel good?"

You'd buried your face into one of your arms, but still managed to squeak out a "yes!" in affirmation.

"Just 'yes', baby? We can do better than that, don't you think? I think I have something to rid you of all your tension ..." you could hear the smirk in his voice as he said this, feeling him finally remove the tiny piece of fabric between your legs.

He positioned his body a little further over the lower half of the table, lowering his face to the space between your cheeks in order to get his tongue on your pussy. He began to lick and suck softly, keeping a pace similar to that of his fingers just a few seconds ago. The pleasure was blinding you, causing you to lightly grind against his face, wanting as much pleasure as you could milk out of him. He seemed to like this, as he lifted his hands and placed them on your hips, guiding your grinding against him and taking on an even better angle.

All that could be heard were the moist sounds of his tongue on your heat and your cries of pleasure. The massage had been fully forgotten. All you could think about was your best friend's tongue and the way his groans against your pussy were making you lose your mind. It seemed like this was bringing him as much satisfaction as it did you.

"Ch-Cheollie! Right there! Fuck!", he'd begun to suckle at your clit, wanting you to finally reach your high and bring you as much pleasure as imaginable.

"Cum all ove' my face baby! wann' taste that pretty pussy," his words were muffled. He seemed physically incapable of separating himself from you.

You came almost immediately, loving the vibrations of his groans against you. You fell completely limp, being rendered a shell of yourself. The whole thing had felt like an out of body experience. From the massage to the life-changing orgasm. You were convinced there was no greater pleasure than what you'd felt in the past half hour. But Seungcheol seemed to disagree, instantly pulling you towards him and sitting you on the table, your body now facing his.

He had untied your bikini top earlier into the massage, which you hadn't minded since you were facing down and away from his view anyways, but now you were grateful he had. He was making direct eye contact with your tits, almost as if pondering as to what to do with them. He seemed to reach a decision, however, and attacked them with his lips with intense fervor, licking and biting at your swollen buds. He had you moaning out in pleasure again. It was as if he'd studied your body without you knowing, being an expert in all your weak spots.

He made out with your tits for a while, making your eyes roll back at the feeling of his tongue against your sensitive nipples. When he pulled away, he instantly began undressing himself at record speed. He had just been wearing shorts and a loose top, which made the process pretty quick. Immediately after getting himself nude, he positioned you so that you could wrap your legs around his waist from your position sitting on the table. He dragged you as close to him as possible by your legs, pressing your chests together.

He looked down at you while running his hands up and down your back, which was still slightly sticky with oil. He seemed to be in a trance, just looking at you with an endeared expression in his eyes, "You're so beautiful. Your body's so ... fuck. Can't believe you've been in pain for so long, baby. When I could've been taking care of you all this time," he had began to kiss along your neck and clavicles as he said this.

"Cheollie .." you breathed out, tilting your neck to the side to allow him extra space to kiss.

"Can I take care of you, baby? Let me get rid of all your tension?", he'd started grinding his bare hips against yours, having pushed open your legs in order to allow himself to drag his dick against your cunt.

Even just the weight of his cock against you had you whining, burying your face in his neck, not knowing how to react at the stimulation. You'd already felt the most pleasure when Cheol buried his tongue in your cunt, or so you'd thought. But that did not hold a candle to the feeling of his fat head as it nudged against your folds. You began to whine and writhe against him, hands digging into his arms as he ground against you. Until he nudged your head away from his neck, wanting to face you. He halted his movements altogether and looked into your eyes for a few moments, a small smile gracing his lips. His eyes began to lower, now staring directly at your lips. Your eyes mirrored his. It was a tender moment in the midst of what had just now been a mess of grinding bodies and oil. When he finally kissed you was when you truly felt relief. No massage could have compared to the bliss you felt with your best friend's lips against your own. The softness of the kiss didn't last much, however, as the movements of his hips picked back up and the kiss began to become more moist by the second.

Cheol took advantage of your soft gasps at the feeling of his cock against your cunt to slip his tongue in your mouth, expertly massaging yours with his. This went on for a bit, allowing for Cheol to stimulate you with some kissing and dry humping, further preparing you to take him free of pain. He was a little larger in size than average, and with the very limited experience he had asserted you to have, he wanted to prevent you from feeling any pain. He had wanted tonight to be nothing but pleasure for you, knowing how badly you've been needing some relaxation, and maybe with the slight ulterior motive of finally getting with his pretty bestie.

He unglued himself from your lips, chuckling at the way you whined as your lips followed his, "Baby, I'm gonna fuck you now, yeah? Wanna see you fully relaxed. That okay?"

"Mhm. Yes, Cheollie. Do anything you want. Trust you," you mumbled in response, head filled with air as you barely caught your breath from the overload of pleasure you'd felt tonight.

With that, he began to enter you, bulbous head showing a bit of a fight in entering your tight walls. You both let out a moan of relief when he finally bottomed out, almost as if you'd both been craving this for a while. He fucked you with a passion only someone who wanted you the way you wanted him would. You'd thought you'd reached the utmost pleasure when Cheol had you cumming against his tongue, but nothing could ever compare to being full of him as he praised you through every thrust, calling you every possible adjective to describe your beauty.

"B-baby! So fucking good. So pretty for me .. Gonna fuck you all night. Gonna fuck you to sleep. All mine now," he began canting in and out of you with even more intensity now, making sure to hit that spot with every thrust.

"Cheollie!"

"I know, baby. Gonna cum for me? Gonna let me fill that pussy up, aren't you, pretty?"

It didn't take long for you to cum, already feeling an overwhelming amount of emotions at every type of pleasure Seungcheol had delivered to you tonight. He followed soon after you, yelling out your name at the tightening of your walls around him. He breathed heavily as he leaned against you for a minute or two, only then moving away from you in order to get a towel and begin to clean you up.

"Sorry .. was that too much?", he smiled sheepishly as you seemed to wince when he attempted to clean you up between your thighs.

"No! It was perfect, just ... not really used to it, that's all."

"Okay, baby. If you say so. Now let me take you to bed!", with no warning, he picked you up and brought you over to his bed, completely ignoring the mess he'd caused on his massage table after having fucked you on it. He laid you down, cocooning you into his blankets before rushing to the other side of the bed and holding you in his arms.

He turned to look at you as he cradled your body against his, "Do you feel better now? Still sore?", the question seemed genuine.

"No, Cheollie. I feel amazing. I've never felt this good before, actually."

"That good, huh? I told you I was the best! But don't worry, baby. Gonna keep your appointment every week like I promised. Gonna keep you in my bed every time you're feeling sore, yeah, baby? Don't even have to ask, I'll be waiting for you," he chuckled at himself as he said this, but being completely serious.

"Will you give me your special treatment again?," you giggled against his lips.

"That's for you and you only, baby," he replied as he closed the gap between you once more.

a/n: ok i mightve made reader a lil extra overdramatic this time but u guys have to understand. my back hurts like hell. so pls sympathize w reader bc shes lowkey my soul sister in that area 😭

The perks of being that guy (l.jh.)

Taking note of the strangers you see day to day isn’t something you’d normally do. The only reason today is different is because the guy who made small talk as he rang you up for your intimate items was the same guy who showed up catering for your family reunion. 

or the one where jihoon is a dildo salesman, a caterer, a self-titled mechanic, and also your ride home. he is not an expert in any of his jobs, but he sure is an expert in wit and, well, other things. 

ao3 | m.list | reblog to give woozi a lil kiss 

minors dni!! 

WORDCOUNT― 14k

PAIRING― jihoon x afab reader 

CONTENT― strangers to lovers like immediately, long fluffy hair jihoon!!!!,  you buy a monster sized dildo, blatant talking of masturbation and toys, smut, cliche blooming an attachment to someone after (1) fuckening. 

NOTE― a present for u all because i hit a milestone of 5000 followers!! this was only supposed to be like 5k words but i guess i was in love with him this whole time. anyway, this is not proof read bc i think u guys know by now that im not about that life, so if you find a typo– don’t tell me i will delete everything out of embarrassment. 

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― it’s kind of fluffy im so sorry i just have feelings for him, average cock size jihoon!!!! he is very much a service top, making out, hand holding, caressing, grinding, finger fucking, titty worship,  unprotected sex (just wrap it guys, im too lazy to write a condom scene), sweet talking as a form of dirty talk, missionary bc i refuse to not write smut where he wants to look directly at you, back scratches (sexual) ~

~

Never have you been put in the position to make small talk about the sex toys you place on a counter to purchase. Then again, you guess it’s part of the job description that most people ignore or aren’t privy to actually doing. 

Never have you been informed of the wide variety of lubricants, additional toy-cleaners, or the bigger and smaller alternatives to your chosen toy. You don’t show discomfort though, because it’s not uncomfortable. Sex is normal, masturbation is more normal, and the man in front of you appears to be normal too.

“There’s twelve different color variants if you prefer something less fleshy.” The man says, standing at the counter with some sort of a permanent pout on his lips. 

“I’m fine with my choice, if you could just ring me up now I can get out of your hair.” You respond, glancing at the time on your phone and wondering how you got stuck with the only employee who actually does his job here.

“Are you sure you don’t want any lubricant…?” The man adds, gazing at the size of your toy and then looking you up and down as if you clearly wouldn’t be able to handle it without said lube purchase. 

The man with no name tag appears to be blissfully unaware of his invasiveness with that question as you tilt your head with a raised brow. Shocked at the very question, it’s actually quite laughable that he’s so monotone with the offensive comment. You imagine he’s done this for so long, he must be a manager trying to get the day over with, going through the steps in a bored mood with little to no regard as to how he must sound to strangers buying their first or twentieth dildo. 

With your assumption that he doesn’t exactly care about the level of wet your vagina is when you use this toy, you respond.

“I think I know what I can take and I already have lube, but thanks.”

He nods, not even sparing you much of a glance before giving you a total and bagging your item.

Now, despite Jihoon’s lack of interest toward the purchase of toys he finds it comical that he’s grown numb to the very fact that he knows everyone in this town’s kinks after they step out of the shop’s door. Someone’s gotta do this job and keep those secrets and he likes to think he fits the bill perfectly. 

Lively as he may be outside of this shop, each job comes with a personality and this one calls for one of disinterest in your product but interest in the sale. He’s not one to lie to himself though, many times a pretty girl has marched in and bought toys far bigger than any man and he does tend to let his mind wander about it from time to time. When he first started this job, bright eyed and bushy-tailed, he found it hard to navigate a single sale without a flush of rosy tints crossing his cheeks and ears. Now, he’s become a veteran at keeping his dick locked in place if he were to feel some type of way about a purchase and the one purchasing. 

Shy as he was when he started, it’s all lost now as he handles dicks and dongs, pocket pussies and anal plugs, even whips and chains. 

Shy. That’s definitely a word and surprisingly one that can describe him when he’s not on schedule within these walls of alien dicks and lime flavored lube to match the grotesque green color. At his other job, because he works two, he takes the praise of being the charming yet, timid man who shows up with pans of food for events. 

The guests seem to love him, and many times during weddings and company parties he has been offered phone numbers or asked for one simply because he appears to be that of a friendly face with a kind sense of being. 

It’s a stark contrast of jobs, and somehow he’s managed to dodge knowing many of the people coming into his night job to shop for ways to fuck themselves. The rare time it had happened, he was thankful to have another person in the shop to ring them up. Keeping up with two jobs is hard, and keeping up with two personalities is even harder.

~

You hadn't thought of that guy from the sex shop even once until he showed his face at your family reunion. 

He noticed you before you managed to realize it was him though. Stealing looks in your direction as you chat with little cousins and elder aunts and uncles, mostly to double check in his brain if you’re really the girl who showed up and nonchalantly bought the newest dildo in stock. The fleshy colored one with rotating beads and a g-spot stimulator button. Upon your eyes meeting his though, he could tell it was you simply by your furrowed brow as you recognized him. 

Jihoon couldn’t help but smirk. He knew that eventually someone at an event would recognize him as their local sex-shop manager, he’s actually shocked it doesn’t happen more often. At least it’s you though, a woman who looks near his age and clearly has a very healthy relationship with her sexuality. So much so that you weren’t shy or nervous in buying the toy from him, because it’s very true that many people feel too vulnerable when buying those kinds of items. 

His smirk doesn’t go unnoticed by you before you look away from him and focus your attention back to your family. And by the time he’s prepared the food and is standing aside to help explain  or describe what ingredients the dishes have, you’re walking up with your empty plate and an awkward glance. 

He follows you down the line, seemingly more interested in you than anyone else. You could argue it’s just an attempt to make you feel embarrassed though.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” You ask, a knowing look telling him that you’re already very aware of that ‘somewhere’ you know him from. 

His pursed lips and snide hidden laugh at you is one thing, but the way he whispers to you over a pan of potato casserole is another. 

“I think you know who I am.” He says, crossing his arms as he leans back again with a flicker of a grin. 

You leave it at that, looking him in the eye curiously and for some reason, smiling back at the strange second encounter with a man who appears to have a name tag now.

“Thanks, Jihoon. See you around.” 

You’re heading away from the table of food and now toward your saved spot at the table of family that you missed the most. Your same-age cousins, the ones you grew up with and made mud pies for your parents with during summer evenings. 

“What was that about?” One of them leans over to ask, glancing to the man who is still overseeing the table of food and maintaining perfect temperatures. 

“Huh? He was just telling me what was in the potatoes.” 

She takes your answer as truth without issue, and the conversation falls away and into something else. College life, job life, family life. 

~

Okay so you’re trying to hear yourself out here. Are you somehow curious and interested in speaking with Jihoon? Yeah. Do you know why? Also yes. For one, he just sold you a fucking interesting sex toy last weekend in the most uncomfortable way possible, and now he’s here at your family reunion to remind you of what you do in your apartment when you’re alone. 

His personality seemed different this time too. He wasn’t monotone, he was snide with you about knowing who you are. He probably thinks it’s funny that he ended up at your family reunion over any other event.

So yeah, maybe you find yourself going up to the table for seconds even though you’re no longer hungry. Maybe you definitely wait until no one else is at the table and he appears to be tidying up the space and wiping up spills. 

“How many jobs do you have?” You ask in a sarcastic tone when you reach him, the table between the two of you creating a comfortable distance to poke and prod.

He jumps only slightly at your presence because he didn’t notice you walking up. Then he’s smiling again, looking at you up and down. 

“Plenty. How much lube do you have left?” He answers before shooting back his own question and getting right to the point. 

You freeze in shock at his question, reminding yourself that his monotone voice from the late dildo purchase is no more and he now comes across as vibrant and charming to you. You check him out for a moment, taking mental notes of what may not be to like about him. Unfortunately, you’re not finding much to take note of. 

“I can’t imagine you have much left, that thing was a fucking monster.” He pauses to cover his mouth, forgetting that he’s supposed to be timid and gentle during his day job. He’s not supposed to be himself.

You find yourself laughing at his panic though, leaning over the table and holding out your empty plate. Mostly just to get in closer to him. 

“Why are you so interested in my ‘fucking monster”’ dildos anyway?” You narrow your eyes. 

He pauses, his panic easing after taking note of your easy personality and banter towards him. 

“I think anyone would be interested, with all things considered.” He checks you out again. “Correction, they should be worried.” 

“You’re different from before,” you comment, both of you now blatantly staring down each other. “I like this version of you more.” 

Something inside of him feels giddy at that. Not to be cliche but he wonders if this is what it’s like to instantly have a crush on someone. Again, he’s not one to lie to himself. You’re pretty and you appear to be confident. Confident enough to discuss this at your own family reunion at least.

“Maybe I’ll see you again sometime then.” He puts a hand forward, inviting you to shake it but you simply stare down at it. 

“Yeah, maybe you will.” You smile, slapping his hand as if you’re low fiving him. 

Honestly, he might actually see you within the next day or two because he was kind of right to ask about how much lube you have left, but it’s not like you’d answer that truthfully if at all. You might be running out after just two uses. He was right again about it being a fucking monster, because well, yeah. Maybe you’ll pop in and shop for bulk lube instead of rejecting his up-sale. 

~

Unfortunately for you, upon the reunion coming to an end, you get into your car and of course it doesn’t start. Your head slamming into the steering wheel with a sigh that’s probably loud enough for the entire town to hear.

The last thing you need is your father driving you home, because he will lecture you about your car and how it’s got to be some fault of your own for it to not start. And you know, yeah maybe it was your fault. Why were your lights turned on during a sunny sunday afternoon? Fuck if you know. Why were they left on for the entire nine hours you spent at your parent’s house? You refuse to ask yourself questions.

Just as you prepare to head back inside, taking the walk of shame ten minutes after saying your goodbyes, a savior appears.

That savior is none other than Jihoon walking up with his stiff button down shirt partially unbuttoned, hair now disheveled as he must have ruffled it up after the day of work. He watched you from his catering van for just a few minutes before finally getting out to offer his expertise. 

“The battery is dead.” He smiles, slapping both palms on your hood and leaning to look at you through the windshield. 

“Smart man, can you un-dead my battery before my dad comes out?”

Jihoon shakes his head apologetically. 

“I already checked the van for the cables, could be a write up on my part for not checking before leaving. We are supposed to have all sorts of shit to prevent breakdowns on a job. Not today though, apparently.” He scratches the back of his neck as he walks to your opened car door. 

“If you can hang tight for like ten minutes I can swing by after dropping the van off.”

Your eyes plead with him. You’d prefer this, yes. If he’s willing to help, you’re willing to accept.

“You sure I’m too out of the way for you to do that?”

He shakes his head nonchalantly, waving you off as he leans into your car to pull your keys out of the ignition. He smells like food, obviously he does, but there’s a scent of something else on him that’s far more attractive. The dull scent of cologne that matches him all too well. 

“Don’t try to turn it on anymore if you don’t want your dad coming out.” He laughs. “I’m sure he would help you but if you’d rather I help you, I am more than happy to do it.”

He’s teasing. His little crush pushes him to want to help you, but he’s gonna play it off as casually as possible. 

“I’ll hang out here. My dad would lecture the fuck out of me.”

Jihoon nods, backing away and heading back to his van to fulfill his offer.

On another note, you’re shocked that your father didn’t hear the commotion, and even more shocked that he didn’t step outside once since the reunion ended. He must have been tired, and you know him, he sleeps like a rock even if he hits the sack at 7pm without even cleaning up the yard. 

~

“Oh, it’s dead dead.” Jihoon looks at you apologetically, peeking his head out from the side of your hood and through your window. 

“Define dead dead.” You comment, taking your keys out of the ignition with a huff. 

“Like, you need a new battery. This one is done for.”

You sigh loudly, knowing that now you’ll have to go ask your parents for a ride home. Know that your dad is going to add more to his lectures with each day your car is sitting in their driveway. This is so fucking annoying. At least you work from home though, so it’s not like you’re gonna lose your job over this or anything. 

Jihoon unhooks the cables and turns off his car, then stands there and watches you for a moment. You look frustrated and annoyed, and it’s very much like him to offer more help. Of course it is. 

“Would it be too forward to ask if you need a ride home?” 

You look at him confused, tilting your head and studying his body language much like before. You’re not one to decline someone making your life a little bit easier, and he is interesting to talk to. You nod slowly, then pause.

“You’ve worked all day, don’t waste your off-time helping me out.”

“I’m already wasting my off time on you though, might as well let me drive you home too?”

You stare at him. 

“Okay.”

The awkward silence sets in shortly after you seat yourself in his car. You fill that silence with small sarcastic comments about his car though, and soon it becomes easy to be in the space with him.

“Where did this sticker come from?” You ask, poking your finger into a sticker with its edges rolled from the summer heat, probably.

“Ex girlfriend, i couldn’t get it off without it leaving a residue so I’m just letting the sun do its job and melt it off.”

“Oh, harsh.” You laugh, wanting to prod further. “Why’d you break up?”

Jihoon pauses, you can tell by the way his foot lets up from the gas momentarily that he wasn’t expecting you to ask that. Then again, he’s said some weird shit to you too, so you figure it’s not an end-all question. 

“Was that too forward to ask?” 

“Not at all, just wasn’t expecting it,” He shakes his head with a small smile, nearly reaching his hand from the wheel to pat your leg in reassurance. He holds back, wondering why the fuck that urge felt so normal for him to do. “It’s been like a year, so I’m over it and stuff. She just thought I worked too much and didn’t spend enough time with her.”

“Ouch, even harsher.” You smile in reassurance to him, also feeling it normal to want to do that for some reason. “Her loss, I mean, discounted dildos and food? Huge loss.”

He laughs at your comments, briefly looking over at you once he stops at a red light. Your eyes are shining with life, with interest even. At that moment, he feels something between the two of you. Which is quite strange considering this is your first time officially meeting him outside of his working hours. He can’t help the way his face softens though, it happens against his will, honestly, it does. 

“You’re kind of cute,” You blurt, breaking eye contact with him and shifting in your seat. “and fun to hang out with.” 

“Hang out?” He laughs at you, eyes now adjusting back to the road and lowering his speed just to have a bit more time with you. “This is hardly a hang-out, but if you’re interested, I’m more than willing to check my schedule to see when I’m free next.”

You feel confidence raise up in your chest, bubbling to be free in the form of a question likely too bold to actually consider.

“You’re free right now…” You comment quietly, glancing at him. 

“Hm?” He asks, tightening his grip on the steering wheel and feeling your eyes on him. He heard you, but he wouldn’t mind hearing you repeat it.

“I said, you’re free right now.” You repeat, this time with more confidence. “Would it be too forward to ask if –”

“Nothing is too forward to ask, I literally sold you a dildo.” 

You pause in shock, all thoughts leaving your head.

“Damn, alright,” You laugh, feeling kind of warm inside at how his forwardness matches your own. “If you’re free right now, we could hang out right now.” 

How lucky for both of you. He’s actually not catering tomorrow and only has to be at work at the good ol’ sex shop in the evening. 

“Alright,” He nods, glancing over to you. “Kind of fucked up we are hanging out after I met your entire family and still haven’t gotten a name from you yet though, wouldn’t you think?” 

Oh fuck, he’s right. 

“I’m sure you heard the kids yelling it all day. Don’t be dramatic.”

He laughs, already in love with the idea of spending more time with you. 

“Where to then, y/n?” 

~

If your parents were to ask why you’re walking through your apartment building with the caterer following behind you, you’d have no excuse. Then again, as an adult, you don’t think you need one. It’s strange despite how open and casual you are with making friends though, because you never just invite strangers to your place for friendship. Not at least without hanging out a few times. 

You guess it’s not super awkward because it’s true that he already knows things about you that your family doesn’t. Such as, the things you penetrate yourself with when you’re alone. It’s a major ice breaker, and something that makes the friendship with him come easy even after barely talking to the guy.

The few words you have shared have been easy and fun, so it’s only natural that if your instinct is to want to be around him a little longer, you’d invite him in right? You weren’t really expecting him to accept your answer to his question. 

“Where to then?” 

You thought for a moment when he asked that. You don’t go to clubs or bars anymore, most places would have been closing within the hour, and it’s not like you didn’t eat to peak fullness during the family reunion so having a late dinner with him was out of the question too. You answered him so easily, and he accepted in a way that seemed just as natural to him. 

“We could just hang out at my place, I’ve got plenty of streaming services, a gaming system, and wine.”

“Sounds good.” 

It was so easy to become friends with him, and now with him following you up to your apartment, the typical awkwardness that should come with this type of thing isn’t swarming your mind at all. He’s even making small talk about the building itself after parking in your parking spot. 

“This building is way nicer than mine, you got a door code and everything just to get in.”

“Wasn’t always like this. Being a single woman in a city like this calls for safety measures though.”

A little box in his head checks out. He didn’t even have to ask if you’re single, because he already assumed you were with the way you so easily invited him over. 

By the time you get to your door with him, he’s polite when he walks in and takes off his shoes. Polite in the way he looks around and studies your space, even polite in the way he walks into the living room and invites himself onto your couch and grabs your remote. 

“I was going to say make yourself comfortable but–”

“Well, would you prefer I sit on your floor?” He shoots back with a sarcastic tone in his voice. “Would you prefer I start digging through your cabinets for snacks? Would you prefer–”

“You’re so much more talkative when I’m not trying to buy something from you.” You comment with a laugh, dipping into the kitchen for two glasses and that cheap bottle of wine. 

“Speaking of, do you actually use that thing and like it? I mean, I see some weird purchases but that specific one is super popular with the fetish groups.”

For the first time, you feel heat rise to your cheeks. You should have known that the sex toy would be a point of conversation, considering the first time you ever met was buying it. 

“Yes, I use it. I’m surprised you find it shocking considering it’s literally your job to know what people like in terms of getting off.”

He smiles at that, because you’re damn right he knows. Most of the time he would prefer not to know, but he always did wonder if, on the off chance, he ended up hooking up with a customer he’d have some prior knowledge of how they like it based on toys alone. 

“You know, no one buys toys on a Monday at nine in the morning.” 

“I buy toys at nine in the morning on a Monday,” You chuckle, carrying the two glasses and wine into the living room and plopping down next to him. “Why does that matter? I’m sure you make your quotas even on the slow days considering how hard you were trying to up-sell me.”

He shrugs as he watches you pour him a glass. 

“It’s easy to up-sell when you know people’s kinks after a few purchases. I do that to everyone just to gauge what they need so if they come back I can make more offers.”

“A true salesman.” You laugh with a pitied voice. “What would you say my kink is?”

He studies you, looking you up and down without shame and thinking hard about your single purchase. 

“Well, considering that specific item is, again, usually looked at by a specific type of person or couple, I’d say–”

“Wrong.” You interrupt before he even tries to make a guess. “I don’t have a kink, I just have a sex drive.”

You take a sip at his silence of being beaten to the punch, and then he takes his own thoughtful sip. 

“Okay then, What do you think my kink is?” He asks slyly, cup still against his lips as he sips again. 

“Wha–” You narrow your eyes. “Hell if I know, you probably don’t even have sex after being in a hyper-sexualized space like that for hours on end.”

“Wrong.” He pokes his tongue into his cheek and looks away from you with another casual chuckle.

“Are you telling me you have a pocket pussy or like, a buttplug or something?”

“Three pocket pussies, actually.”

You don’t know why you’re shocked. For some reason his sex toys becoming the focus makes you feel more shy than your own being the focus. 

“I bet you named them.”

“Pocket 1, Butthole 1, and Jessica.”

“Jessca?!” 

He nods in a matter-of-fact tone with a proud smile. 

You feel comfortable around him, never having a friend who openly talks to you about these things without any type of awkwardness. It’s the fact that he’s a man too. Usually they think with their dicks and he seems to have no qualms in admitting that it’s something he may do from time to time too. 

You imagine he needs this type of personality to work such a job though, being casual about sex can be so difficult for your average joe because for some reason, it is embarrassing. It’s hard to talk about even to sex-shop employees. You like to think he’s probably someone who makes others feel comfortable about their sexual habits though, because you feel comfortable. 

“I’m lying by the way.” He cuts through your thoughts, “I only have two.” 

You nod energetically. 

“Jesse and James.” 

“Oh my god, how did you know that?” 

You narrow your eyes again. He’s gotta be a fucking nerd to get the reference, even if everyone knows what pokemon is. 

“So the pussy is Jesse, and the asshole is James.” 

He nods slowly, acting surprised before smirking yet again. 

“Actually, I only have one but I’ve experimented with other things that come through the door. Might as well, right?”

“And yet, you’re shocked about my single dildo purchase without knowing of my other items of interest? I could have just been trying something new too, y’know.”

Another sip of wine, and another glance away from him.

“No one buys that as a first time experience.” He shoots back.

“Okay, enough about my dildo, I actually have a question about something you might have in stock but I’ve kind of been too embarrassed to ask until now.”

He nods, his personality shifting only slightly into that as the manager of the sex-shop.

“Shoot.”

“Do you guys have like,” you pause, unsure of why you’re even trying to ask. Again, it’s not like masturbation is embarrassing, nor is the purchasing of toys. Asking for a specific item is a bit too intimate to you though, so you usually just buy those things online. “Okay hear me out.”

“Tentacles? Furry buttplugs with tails attached? Bondage rope? Paddles?”

“No…” You pause at his spewing of different types of toys. “I know you have all of that.”

He pauses, unsure of what could be so embarrassing. 

“Do you guys have sex dolls for women? You know, like, just a dude torso with a normal length and girth?”

Jihoon fucking snorts. How mundane. Unfortunately for you though, Nope. 

“Nah, the owner tries to cater more towards men and fetish stuff. We’ve got women sex dolls but he’s never really even mentioned just like…a dildo attached to some sort of form that is shaped like a person.”

You shrug. 

“Guess sticking it to the wall is all I can do for now then. But like,” You pause, realizing that you’re actually going into detail at this point, which might be a little uncomfortable for him? Maybe? “It’s really annoying to have it sticking to the floor, and you’re like, riding it and it just pops off and stabs your thigh slipping out mid-orgasm.”

He snorts again, this time unable to stop laughing at the image of whatever orgasm instilled the frustration in you to even mention that happening. He tries to stifle his laughter with the last sip of his wine before choking it down and pushing his glass at you for more. 

“Noted,” He snorts, nodding his head and almost hiding his face from you. “I’ll tell the boss we need male sex dolls so the women don’t get thigh fucked mid-orgasm.”

You glare. 

“Dude, no, because it actually hurt.”

“Maybe you should slow down next time so the full force of your…” he pauses, realizing how sexual the image in his head is of you right now. 

“Okay, wait. I’m sorry, is this conversation too much right now?” You ask, looking him up and down and giving him a new glass of wine. “You’re blushing.”

He tries to play it off. 

“As if you could make me blush.” He laughs at you, downing half of his glass in one go. “To make up for our lack of product though, and if you don’t tell anyone, I’ll give you a discount on your next purchase just for embarrassing yourself like that just now.”

“Oh, I was supposed to be embarrassed?” You counter, laughing along with him as you actually start to look at him.

You noticed that he was handsome before. Normally employees of shops like those are nonchalant normal people, or strange old men who try to impose their kinks onto you. Jihoon though. Jihoon. Hmm, how to explain him?

With his messy hair that covers his eyes every time he whips his head toward you in a laugh, with his wide smile and pretty eyes. He may not be the tallest man you’ve ever looked at like this but damn is he thick. Like his thighs. Damn, the thighs. Even him now  compared to him when he was catering for your family, he’s so much more handsome.

His shoulders are broad, and he’s just… You don’t even know how to explain to yourself the attraction you have toward him at this moment. Handsome is one thing, and you would have continued calling him that if it weren’t for the fact that he’s laughing with you on your couch about a ruined orgasm. 

“You know, Jihoon,” You start, looking into your glass and swirling the liquid inside, then you look up again and make eye contact. “I’m really not usually this forward but like,”

His brain stops for a moment at the serious tone in your voice, his expression softens and you can tell he’s listening. 

“I know masturbation and stuff is normal, and like, you see and talk about these things all the time but I never really talk about it to other people, they always get weird about it.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true. I can’t say this is the most normal hang out I've ever had. Usually we talk about our favorite movies or books or something.”

You wave him off. 

“Yeah, that’s a good point. We could talk about our favorite movies but I find myself, um–” You stop for a second. 

“Is talking about it making you realize that it’s uncomfortable?” 

“No, the opposite actually.” You laugh, now actually feeling embarrassed. “I keep thinking about you mentioning the other things you’ve bought and experimented with.”

“Oh? You’re curious?” He laughs, now feeling a bit shy himself because he’s pretty sure that’s you asking him to put images in your head. “I mean I could go into detail but it actually might be too-telling right now.”

You nod, unsure of why you even suggested.

“Maybe next time?” You change the subject with a smile, one that does seem slightly disappointed. 

“There’s a next time?” He smiles, setting his glass down on your table and shifting toward you.

“I don’t see why not? I’m having fun, plus you offered me a discount.”

He nods, looking around the room and checking the time. 

“I should probably head out then? We’ve both had a long day.” 

You nod back to him, feeling a bit sad. 

“When are you free next?” You ask, grabbing your phone in a way that seems a bit too excited. “Can you give me your number?”

He obliges, exchanging phone numbers and promising to contact you with his next free day or night to hang out. 

Just as he goes to leave though, for some reason both of you feel as though the satisfaction of this hang out wasn’t reaching full potential. 

“Hey, um,” He stops before he puts his shoes back on. “Would it be too forward to say I’m not tired and wouldn’t mind–”

“Staying for a bit longer?” You finish his sentence for him, patting the couch as if that was also on your mind.

He doesn’t even respond, and instead makes his way back onto the couch where the cushion is still warm, unable to help that fluttering feeling in his chest.

~

It's almost midnight by the time he offers to leave again, and yet, he stays at your clear disappointment of the offer. Another hour later, the two of you are sitting contently and pretending to watch some shitty tv show in comfortable silence.

“We should say something.” He blurts, mid episode.

“What do you mean?”

He turns toward you. 

“We should talk about this.” He motions at the space between the two of you. 

You’re silent while you try to build up the confidence to meet him half-way again. 

“You can correct me if you’re not interested but I actually really would like it if you kissed me or something.” He adds as you continue to process what he seems to be getting at.

You’re taken aback by his forwardness, and instantly you knew he didn’t communicate this earlier for your own sake. Thankfully, you’ve tried to make it easy for him to read you and he ate it up like his favorite book. The content feeling between the two of you was buzzing up to this point. Very loudly in your brain where you were thinking of how to kiss him before the night is up. Even as just a “thank you” if he were to turn away from it. 

“Oh yeah?” You ask, tilting your head and seeing him scoot closer. “Kiss you, or something?”

He nods his head, looking at you without much issue and searching for a reaction. 

“Are you interested in me like that, in any way?” He asks, looking for confirmation.

“Oh, most definitely.”

The smile that spreads across his face is one that you can argue will be unforgettable. It’s an expression you hope to bring to every person in your life, one that seems to express nothing but relief, excitement, and maybe even a hint of bashfulness.

“You thought I'd invite you inside without being interested?” You smile at him, feeling a little bit fuzzy in the head at the admittance. 

“I thought you were just being nice, or like, just interested in friendship,” He rambles on, stopping himself short to give more context to that statement. “I mean, it would be fine if this was all for friendship and I'm happy with that too but I can admit to coming into your apartment with maybe, uh, a small crush.” 

“I can admit to inviting you in with a small crush, maybe.” 

“Maybe.”

“Are we being too forward?” You ask, emphasizing the repetitive way that word seems to appear. “Even though you’re in my apartment at one in the morning and both of us are giving any and every excuse to keep you here?”

He smiles this time in a way that appears to be self-soothing, and you can imagine you are too. It’s always nerve-wracking to walk on eggshells with another person, the threat of wondering if you'll fall alone or fall with them into a new version of partnership. 

You don’t think about the lack of knowing him past a purchase, a quick conversation at a family reunion, or the past several hours he’s huddled up with you on this couch. You simply don’t think it’s strange at this point. After all, you’ve met people online and invited them over without much more than a name, age, and quick conversation about what they want sexually. How is this worse? How is this strange? 

“You’re right. Maybe we should stop being so polite when the reality of it is that I’ve been imagining what you’ve done with that toy since the day you bought it.” 

Okay, maybe that was too forward but all is lost now as your image of him changes drastically within the mere seconds it took him to say that, not in a bad way either. Again, of course he’s comfortable admitting it, the dude stares at dicks and holes all day. But now he’s staring at you, and talking directly to you.

Your silence makes him shift a bit, shaking his head apologetically. 

“Found the boundary, got it.” He shames himself with a timid voice, looking away from you and back to the tv with a hint of embarrassment. “I’m not lying though.” He adds after a few more minutes of your silence.

“Not much of a boundary if I admit that I was blatantly asking you earlier what you’ve done to experiment with your toys.”

“Aha! So I was right in thinking you were straight up asking for mind-porn of me?!” He feels instantly comfortable again, turning his entire body toward you as he folds up one of his legs to sit on with a little bounce. 

“Maybe, but what do you mean you’ve been imagining since I bought it? You barely made eye contact with me that day.”

“Oh, I was checking you out the whole time you shopped. Imagine my face when I knew exactly what toy you were reaching for.”

You shove him by the shoulder with a laugh, realizing that this is the first bodily contact you’ve ever had with him, but he actually leans into your shove rather than out of it. Meaning, he barely budges. 

“If I looked you in the eye at the register, you would have thought I was some pervert.” 

“You are a pervert. You said it had, what? Twelve other colors?” 

He shrugs with a pained smile at how cringe he must have sounded to you. 

“You seemed more like a sparkly pink girl rather than a normal flesh tone girl. Then again, this was before I knew you were looking for a literal male sex doll for probably super normal pretend-sex.”

You shove him again, your laugh coming out more forced now at the way he jokes with you. Once again, he doesn’t budge. In fact, he’s leaning in closer. 

“Now hold on, you didn’t mention anything about one having glitter in it.” You joke, wiggling your brows. 

“You trying to fuck a man or a magic unicorn?” He laughs yet again, all of it coming out more forced as the two of you drag out information just to hear the dirty words in a voice you’re only just realizing you like far too much. 

“A man.” You respond, this time not laughing, looking him dead in the eye and trying to pretend you don’t notice how close the two of you have gotten. “Why else would I go for more human skin tones?”

“Fuck if I know, I haven’t met a single man who has vibration settings or rolling beads though.” 

You snort. 

“Shame…but also, why do you think I’m on the hunt for the most mundane sex toy a woman can buy now? The rolling beads almost had me passing out.” 

“Was it too much?” He asks seriously, hoping to god it was. 

“A little bit, yeah.”

“I can imagine you want something to feel real after that.”

For some reason, his words hit you straight in the gut. Your stomach drops as your attraction heightens, and suddenly you’re just staring at him as you respond. 

“I can imagine so, yeah.” 

He stares back, almost no space between the two of you as the banter only brought you both mentally and physically as close as possible without becoming twisted together. 

“When was the last time you felt something real?” He asks against his better judgment, wondering if you’re on the same page with him. Wondering if all this banter was leading to somewhere or nowhere. Because he could have sworn admitting to wanting you to kiss him, and you’ve yet to do so. 

“A month and a half.” You respond dryly, suddenly needing something to drink. 

He glances down at your neck when you swallow around your words, then stares at your lips before breathing in a sigh. One that was supposed to relieve the tension in this moment, but only building it more because he knows you see him do it. He knows you see him wet his bottom lip too.

“Are you going to kiss me, or are you planning to wait another month and a half to get what you want?” He continues on his streak of boldness as if to distract you from noticing the sexual tension, feeling his heart skip beats at the intensity of the moment. 

“It’s not like we have anything better to do.” You start, leaning in and still looking straight into his eyes.

“Are you suggesting that I’m boring?” He narrows his eyes as he feels your breath against his lips, still sweet from the wine that did close to nothing in terms of altering the brain. The two of you are totally planted into reality, if anything, a little drunk on the other. 

“Not at all.” You adjust your words from earlier, there, just hovering over his lips. “I’m just saying that nothing is more interesting than kissing you right now.”

Oh, the fluttering in his belly is so fucking intense right now. No eighteen inch alien tentacle dildo on a shelf could scare him as much as you do at this moment. Intimidatingly outspoken and aware of your wants and needs. His eyelashes flutter just like his stomach does, closing them slowly until he can feel your lips on his. 

Your stomach, on the other hand, has been doing flips since the first instance he admitted to wanting to stay. All of the tension, all of the comfortable silence, all of the glances, the smiles, the laughing, all of it was leading up to this. The moment your lips hit his, they feel much like you imagined they would. 

Soft, plush, warm. The thin lipped grins he’s given you all fucking day now laying flat against your own lips, no longer grinning, now just wanting. And he’s gentle, so fucking gentle with it. Never has a man asked you to kiss him. Usually they close the gap to try and swoon you. It appears you’re both being swooned by each other at the moment though, and his soft kiss only pulls back momentarily before he leans forward, closer.

The third touch, save for you shoving him, his lips on yours, and now…his hand on your cheek. Caressing so gently as he deepens the kiss with ease. The heat rises up and through your skin at the simple touch. You think he must feel it with the way he chuckles into the kiss and starts peppering them against your lips over and over again. A split second between each lay of his lips, and then another solid kiss. One where you finally start moving yours too.

It’s slow and languid in the way he kisses you like this, barely even darting his tongue out but focusing more on your cheek against his palm. He can feel your jaw move as you kiss and can’t help but love what’s happening, and when you’re the one to lick against his lower lip, he falls in so easily. 

That little movement from you, that little feeling of your tongue experimentally prodding his lips open releases the last bit of tension holding him back. He pulls back to look at you and you’re not backing down even slightly. 

“Does this feel more real for you?” He asks in a snide way, swiping your bottom lip with his thumb of the glistening saliva before tilting his head with a smile. 

You very nearly roll your eyes at him for that. And by very nearly, you do roll your eyes at him and can’t help but smile yet again. 

“I’ll take that as a yes,” He says, palm still against your cheek, tips of his fingers toying with the baby hairs on your hair-line. “because I can imagine that the toy couldn’t ki-”

You shoot forward to kiss him again, only just realizing how awkward the positioning is considering neither of you were probably expecting more than a first kiss. 

He laughs into it, knowing you were silencing him of something that could arguably be the most cringe-worthy thing he can say after kissing you. His laughs start to stifle though, as you press forward and somehow manage to have his back against the seat of the couch and you planting yourself on top of him. 

“Can you shut up about the toy now? I thought we got past that,” You argue as you pull back, your cheek already missing the feeling of his palm against it. “You can’t just act like this and then say some dumb shit like that.”

You’re joking, he knows it. If anything, you’re complimenting him right now and he eats it the fuck up as he stares up at you. 

“Was I wrong though? Can it do this for you?” 

You take a moment to look at him, realizing that this is the man who you just kissed. With his hair a mess and fanned out onto the cushions, strands falling in front of his eyes, but mostly swept back and exposing the entirety of his forehead to you. 

You reach forward and brush a strand from his eyes. 

“Actually, say what you want.” You correct yourself and manage to ignore his question.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” He half-chuckles as he brings his hands up to set against your waist, hoping you don’t pull out of the intimate position the two of you are in. 

“I don’t know, I was just looking at you and thought it was stupid for me to try to argue with you right now.”

“Why’s that?” He prods for more compliments, feeling himself twitch at the way you look hovering over him. 

“Are you trying to argue right now?” You tilt your head, adjusting yourself now to sit directly on his thighs and lay forward, both hands cushioning your chin on his chest as you straddle him. 

“Would it be so wrong to admit that you’re fun when you argue with me?” 

You can feel him breathe under you, nearly rocking you further and further into whatever headspace Jihoon seems to put you in. It’s too comfortable, and it almost feels as though you’ve been with him for years now. You barely know him, yet you’re lying on him as if you got married two years ago. Insane how this works. How the heart works, or the brain, or whatever drives the arousal you’re feeling right now. 

“Will you argue if I ask to show you my room?” You start, lifting back up and away from his chest, now scooting forward a bit. You don’t dare sit on it yet, but you very much would like to if he were to suggest not moving at all from this couch. “My bed.”

He stutters and quickly quiets his excited words, replacing his voice with a nod and a sharp inhale.

“Hah! Telling me to argue and instantly buckling the second I mention my bed.” You laugh, pulling yourself up and sauntering out of his view.

He stares at the ceiling for a moment, in a daze over just how much he likes you. He wonders, would you be shocked to know he hasn’t had sex in much longer compared to you? One and a half months for you? That’s nothing to him. He’s been besties with his right hand for at least six months by now. Trust him when he says that it truly was difficult to not turn into a hormonal idiot when he saw you in the shop that day. 

Finally, he shakes himself out of the spaced out horny brain staring at your ceiling and stands to his feet. He’s quick to adjust the bulge in his jeans, uncomfortably shaking his leg before looking toward where you walked off to.

“Um.” He stops realizing you were watching him, looking directly at the spot he just adjusted. “I mean,” He tries to start again, adjusting again as he feels it slowly move out from its tucked place. “Listen,”

“No, I get it.” You say, snickering at his embarrassment as if he somehow doesn’t know you were suggesting at least some foreplay by moving to your room.

“Of course you do,” He drops his head, now blatantly shoving his hands down his pants to adjust before looking back up and taking a step forward. “You’re the one who sat on me like that.”

“Please, I didn’t even sit on it.” 

“Didn’t need to.” He shrugs, now coming up to you and waiting for you to guide him through your space and into your room. 

Once the two of you get there, him not even attempting to hide that he is very aroused at this moment, you’re very quick to turn to face him once he comes inside. 

“We are on the same page, right?” You ask, looking at his lips and the way they still look so kissable. 

“As far as I know, with all things considered.” He responds, looking down at himself and how pathetic he must seem in getting so aroused by nothing more than a kiss and a position change. 

You smile, reaching for his hand and watching him tumble forward to you. Now standing mere inches in front of you. 

“Do you want to see it?” You ask, a cheeky smirk on your face as you turn away from him and run to your bedside table. 

He had no idea what the fuck you were referring to until he saw it. There, in all of its non-human glory. Jihoon tics his tongue, curiously straining his neck out to peek at what else is in your drawer as he walks closer. 

You make no attempt to close the drawer and instead pull out another one, and another one, another one.

“If you keep pulling out toys I’ll start to think you were lying in saying you wanted to feel something more, um–”

“Real?” You say, turning from your presented line-up of toys to look at him. 

He nods, gazing over the toys, four dildos all far bigger than he is. 

“I can admit that men can’t vibrate, nor do they have those little rotating beats but,” You chuckle at the conversation, scooping the toys up quicker than you laid them out and tossing them back into the drawer. “They’re not warm, or attached to someone that can kiss me. They’re also not witty.”

You study his expression.

“They don’t make me laugh before getting me off.” You continue, wondering if you may actually be too forward about this now. 

He’s rendered a bit speechless, which is rare for him in any given situation. He always has a quick response, not at this moment though as he looks at you. He wonders if you pity that obvious act of self-doubt upon seeing your toys. 

“They’re not attached to you.” You add, this time stifling your chuckle, because it’s a pretty funny conversation if you look at it from the outside but you can imagine he must be feeling some type of way to be so quiet.

He thinks hard about it, knowing damn well where this was leading and pushing for it himself. Hearing you now though, so confidently say these things, all doubt erases from his mind. 

“Before we do anything,” he starts, his shaky voice coming out more confident as he continues. “Is this just a hook-up to you or are you feeling the way I’m feeling right now?”

You look at him with a question in your eyes. He was kind of shocked that you didn’t finish for him this time, actually. 

“Like, you know if we do this, I’m going to be calling to take you out to dinner at some point unless you say you don’t want me to, right?”

You hadn’t thought of anything past him since you’ve gotten here. You didn’t think about anything more than hanging out with him, and now, kissing him, and maybe you know, feeling him. For some reason though, despite the lack of sex you’ve had lately, him saying that only arouses you more. It’s been so long since you’ve intended to sleep with someone and have them want to stick around after. Some of the people you’ve been with didn’t even ask for your number. Is this what adult relationships are actually like? 

“As in, you’d want to see where this goes in the–”

“Future, yes. I’m not just going to fuck you and pretend I didn’t when I see you again.”

Shockingly, that’s a first for you and you like the feeling it gives you. Plus, him implying that he’s about to, or very willing to, fuck you sends a wave of fondness through you.

“Alright. Let’s not call it a hook up then.” You say, the playful arousal from before stifling out at the idea of being intimate with someone who is making you aware that you’ll see him again, now being replaced with…feelings? Arousal with feelings?

“What should we call it?” 

“A date?” You say back immediately, sitting on your bed and finally closing your bedside drawer. 

“Oh, you fuck on the first date?” 

You laugh at how quickly his wit comes back, especially with the way he crowds up and stands in front of you. 

“With you? I guess I do.” You smile wide for him, feeling the tension bleed away and replace itself again with the arousal of him standing and looking down at you. 

“How did we not meet earlier?” He asks, leaning down a bit as if to kiss you.

“Fuck if I know, I bought all of those toys at your shop.”

“Ah, right. Nine in the morning on a Monday. I don’t usually work mornings.”

“Guess I got lucky last time then.”

“I guess you did.” He adds like a period to a sentence, finally kissing you again and making no effort to hide the fact that he’s attempting to lay you down much like you did to him before. 

You let him, falling back on your bed and feeling him nudge your legs to spread. Again, you let him, feeling your heart begin to race with excitement in the way he kisses you now versus how he did it earlier. 

There is clear intent behind it this time, as he positions himself between your legs. Your heart only races faster when one of his hands slides down your shoulder and he tangles his fingers with yours. It’s all very intimate to be coming from a man you officially met today, but you really do feel lucky. 

Lucky that he works two jobs, lucky that your family throws lame ass reunions every five years, lucky that you had your lights on during a sunny sunday afternoon, lucky that your battery died. 

It’s so normal already to smile into the kiss and feel giddy inside. Never have you smiled into a kiss save for laughing when a leg cramp happens mid-fuck. You can’t believe how much you’ve smiled and laughed today, and you can’t believe he’s making you react this way just by holding your fucking hand and kissing you this way. 

He laughs when you react though, probably feeling at ease on your bed with you under him, squeezing his fingers tightly each time he licks against your tongue. And when he pulls back to breathe, you just look at him and the way his fringe hangs. He looks so pretty at this angle, even when he’s moving slowly, even when his other hand remains planted beside your head to hold his weight from falling onto you. 

It’s not been since highschool that you’ve laid with someone simply making out, fully clothed, giggling. You’re unsure of how he’s pulled this out of you, because usually when a man is on top of you, you’re already trying to get his clothes off. But this? This is something that you want to last. You want it to be slower than a usual fuck, because you like when he’s here with you. Whether on top of you or not, there was a reason he’s stayed this late already and you already know it wasn’t solely to fuck you.

“Did you expect to be on top of me someday?” You ask between kisses, and he takes that as an invitation to laugh against your neck and tickle your cheek with his messy hair. 

“Expect it? No,” He starts, leaving a kiss just under your ear before lowering his lips to the collar of your shirt and kissing there too. “Hoped I could, though.” 

Your heart swells up at that. You realized he must have meant it when he admitted to having a small crush on you. Only now do you realize that curiosity that brought you back up to the food-table during the reunion may have been the start of a crush on your end too. 

You don’t say anything more after that and instead fall into the feeling of his lips kissing alone your collar. For some reason the sensation of his lips pushing the fabric out of the way so he can kiss new exposed skin makes you feel incredibly wanted. Maybe it’s the pace, or maybe it’s just because you really really like him, and want him to want you. 

“Do you want to take it off?” You ask after a few more of his kisses, wanting to control yourself but also very much wanting to feel his lips everywhere else too. 

You can feel him nod in the form of his hair tickling your cheek more. But he doesn’t move from that spot at first, continuing to kiss you the same way and in the same places. You let him, up until he finally sighs and pulls back. 

Looking at him now, even compared to a few moments ago, he looks so fucking pretty. His eyes are now soft, you can almost see the lines from where he’s smiled for you all day at the creases of them. His lips, looking more kissable than they did the past two times you thought they looked as kissable as they ever could. His eyebrows, showing no signs of tension.

You’re staring and you’re not intending to hide it. Even as he lifts your shirt from your waist and starts to pull it up. You barely budge as you stare, and stare, until you can’t because he’s trying to pull your shirt over you head.

“If you’d stop staring for two seconds maybe I could get this off of you, yeah?” He laughs, finally pulling it off when you arch your back and then prop yourself up slightly with your hands. “There.”

He sighs when he says it, going silent and almost frozen at the image of your nearly-naked torso. You watch him stare now, a smirk forming all too quickly.

“Now look who’s staring.” You chuckle, noting that his eyes still don’t leave the newly exposed skin or the fabric of your bra.

“Yeah, I am.” He admits, wetting his lower lip again and then flicking his eyes to you. “Am I not supposed to?”

Suddenly, that eye contact makes you feel shy. You’re more naked than he is, despite mostly being dressed still.

“You know,” you start, avoiding his intense eye contact just to get the words out. “If we just take all of our clothes off now, it would probably be easier.”

He lets out a breathy chuckle at you but nods, already lifting his shirt off and going for his zipper and button.

“There’s no rush, but if you’d prefer we do,” He scoots back and away from you, standing to his feet to shove his jeans down his legs. “I don’t mind.”

You watch him undress and lose all ability to act on your own for a solid thirty seconds before you finally start panic-shimming the rest of your clothing off. Save for bra and panties, and he, now standing there clad in only a pair of form-fitting briefs. 

You’re glad he isn’t as shy as you at this moment though, or rather, he appears to be entirely infatuated with your body and doesn’t look away from it for even a moment to feel embarrassed himself at standing on the side of your bed nearly nude. 

“No rush?” You ask, when he finally trails his eyes up to you and takes his position between your legs from earlier. Except now, you can see his biceps and the way they flex, now, you can feel the immense amount of warmth radiating from him. Now, his hair is even more of a mess.

“I can try,” He says quietly, balancing on on hand and lowering his lips to yours once more, trying to ignore how dangerously close his length is to bumping against your pussy. “No promises now, though.”

You laugh, wondering where he lost his self control within that short span of time where you got undressed. He cuts your laugh off mid-way though, now kissing you again and moving his hand up and down your waist. It tickles and causes goosebumps to form all over you, to the point that you can’t help but sigh into his kiss. 

He continues, still holding his hips back from grinding against you, kissing you as good as he can until trailing back to your neck again. 

It’s not until you run your fingers through his hair that he sighs himself. That relief and heavenly feeling of your fingers scraping the back of his neck— Such a simple touch can literally send him straight to hell at this point and he wouldn’t care a single bit as long as it’s from you and your hands. 

He lowers himself more, just to prevent his hips from intruding into this moment only to lock his lips onto the mound of your breast, other hand lowering so he can lay down and push your bra to the side a bit. 

The cold air that hits your nipple is short-lived when you feel him immediately suck it into his mouth with a deep breath. You continue to scratch through his hair, now using your other hand to nearly hug his head in place as you feel the sensations shoot straight between your legs. Each flick of his tongue sends signals to your brain to go! go! go! But much like him, you hold back, even though your legs still manage to squeeze his body between yours in an attempt to find the friction he isn’t yet offering. 

He continues this for a few minutes, and then works his fingers under the bra on the other side of your chest before switching his lips to that one. Perking them up so perfectly that he can graze his teeth against either nipple and feel your legs react to it. All of it is turning him on beyond belief, it’s dangerously attractive to him now too, to know that you have several toys that could have already gotten you off by now, but you choose this. You choose his lips playing with your tits, and your legs doing an amazing job of showing him your lack of control. 

His lips continue their work, up until he’s trailing further and further down, making your sighs hitch higher and higher in pitch. He kisses your ribs, just above your belly button, then just below your belly button before leaning back.

There, he looks directly at the seat of your panties and smiles at the wet spot there. He plants a kiss right there before climbing back up and caressing your cheek again. 

“You’re wet.” He comments in a huskier voice than he normally uses toward you, balancing yet again on his other arm.

Before you can actually respond, his hand on your cheek disappears and is instantly cupping your entire pussy.

You hitch out a sigh and look at him with a smile.

“Obviously.” You say back, rolling your eyes playfully before unintentionally bucking your hips into the pressure his palm offers against your clit. 

“Cute too.” He adds, lifting his palm to run his fingers up the wet spot on your panties before pressing in slightly. 

You can feel them stick to you uncomfortably, but it still feels so fucking good. Any amount of touching from him feels good though. 

“And you’re teasing me.” You argue, looking away from his playful smirk as he plays with the wet fabric against his fingers. 

“Just ask. I’m not teasing you if you're not telling me what you want.” 

You shoot your eyes back to him, a mixture of curiosity and shock in your eyes. It’s true though, you are a little shocked. Most men really just do what they want, and so do you. Never have you been asked what you want. 

Your eyes trail down as far as they can, what his hand is doing is mostly hidden between your legs but you focus entirely on the way his arms flex as his fingers travel up and down your panties. 

“You want me to ask?” You question, hips bucking up again unintentionally. 

“Not so much ask, but like, tell me what you want.”

He nods to himself as he says it, licking his bottom lip and pressing the fabric of your panties in yet again. 

It’s not that he doesn’t want to do what he wants right now though, definitely not. He just figures you know your body far better than he does, and he’d rather not make assumptions and embarrass himself when you could just ask him or better, guide him. Who is he to assume you want his fingers right now anyway?

“I’ve never…” You start, swallowing your words as your brain goes back to focusing on his fingers momentarily. “I haven’t–”

He knows what you’re trying to say, so he attempts to make it a bit easier for you. 

“Do you want me to pull your panties to the side?” 

You sigh with a nod, looking at him and allowing him to guide you through telling him what you want.

“Do you want me to touch you?” 

You nod again, pushing your head back against the mattress out of frustration that you, for some reason, can’t find the confidence to just tell him. 

He listens to your body though, more than your weak nods and frustrated sighs. The way your legs shake when he asks, the way you react to the air hitting your folds when he does push your panties to the side. He can’t bare to look down yet though, because he knows for a fact that if he were to pull back and look at you in full, he’d no longer be asking you what you want. He’d be embarrassing for sure. 

You can feel his fingers now sliding through your folds though, bare pussy out and on display but not yet being looked at, only being felt. And arguably, all you can do right now is feel too, as he leans forward to kiss you in this silent moment. 

His fingers continue to explore as he kisses you, collecting all of your arousal and swirling it around your clit before sliding back down and prodding at your entrance. You make a sound at that, kissing his a little harder than before when he lets out a hum.

“Hm?” He hums against your lips, and you nod to him. 

There, he dips a finger in only slightly. Your arms reach around his neck at the feeling and pull him closer to you. To the point that you can feel him struggle to angle his hands right to slide in deeper, but you pay no mind to it. At least not until you kiss the fucking daylights out of him.

That, you do. Kissing him with full-force and making a show of how turned on you are for him. He feels it though, with or without your kiss bruising him. The wetness on the tip of his finger only becomes wetter, and when you release your grip around his neck, he still doesn’t leave the kiss.

He goes back to gently kissing you, focusing more on your fingers than what his tongue is doing. He slides that same finger in all the way now, feeling your walls clench almost instantly and beg for more. Chuckling at the feeling, he fucks his finger into you experimentally before pulling them out and adjusting two fingers at your entrance. 

“Hm?” He hums again, and you nod again.

So, two fingers slide in and you’re releasing a soft moan against his lips. Already out of breath from focusing so hard on how he feels when he touches you. Your lips fall slack just to catch that lost breath, and he doesn’t argue, going right back to that spot on your neck to kiss as he picks up rhythm with his fingers. Effectively fucking you open with them. 

You hate to say you didn’t pay much attention to his hands until now. Having not noticed how deep just those two digits reach inside of you, and good fucking lord does he know how to use them too. Curling them up at just the right moment to have you legs shaking. 

Never have your legs fucking shook for a man. This only happens with the g-spot stimulating toys. God, you open your eyes to look at the ceiling in thought, and it has you wondering if he even knows he’s doing it. 

“Keep doing that–” you urge him, and he hums at you finally at least trying to tell him what you want. 

He finally lifts from your neck to look at you, now placing his weight back on that one free arm that had been toying with the ends of your hair this entire time, and he’s fucking floored. Even if he pictured you before with those toys, none of those images came close to this. And it’s just his fingers? No where near the size of your toys, no where near as expensive, or warm…or alive.

Oh. You want to feel someone who wants you. 

“I’ll do anything you want.” He says, doing exactly as you asked except a little faster now, still hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly that you’re moaning out now. 

He tunes in entirely to the sounds you’re making, the faces you’re making, and the way your pussy clenches around just those two fingers. He is aching at this point, pulling back from hovering over you to sit now between your legs, fingers still keeping pace, and sliding his other hand down his briefs. 

You don’t notice at first, too enthralled by the feeling of his curling fingers inside of you, but when you do–

“God,” You moan, rolling your eyes at the image of him out of breath, both hands working to pleasure both of you. “Come here.”

He listens, already pulling his hand away from himself but keeping his fingers in you, in a daze as he takes his original position of hovering over you.

“No, I mean, come here.” You say, looking at him as you reach between your bodies and pull his fingers out of you, then reach to grab between his legs. 

He immediately moans at the feeling, his hips pressing harshly into your grip with a whine as he takes a deep breath and closes his eyes just to feel it. 

“Take it out?” You continue, slowly becoming more and more comfortable telling him what you want. 

Just watching him do what you ask is insanely hot. The way he pulls his cock out seems so natural to him, you suddenly imagine what he must look like all alone while getting himself off. Thankfully though, he’s not all alone right now, he’s with you, and you intend to be getting him off. 

You look at him, between his legs, and then back at him once more before grabbing it again and practically pulling his hips to you by the cock. He groans all the same at it though, and only holds his breath when he feels your legs spread further and essentially press his cock between your folds and hold it there from the head. 

“Grind.” You say, still holding your hand in place to keep the pressure against him, which also puts pressure against your clit when he does grind up.

You both shiver at it, and he still looks down at you, fucking smiling through his sighs of relief regarding the new sensations you’re offering. 

“You’re actually fucking perfect.” He compliments, fucking his hips up and coating his cock with the dripping of your core. 

Out of everything he’s ever said to you up to this point, out of everything he’s fucking done to you, that’s the one thing that has you spiralling into a world of fucking fire. It makes you feel so warm, especially with the head of his cock bumping your clit. He has barely gotten any friction and he is still calling you perfect? Sign you the fuck up, forever, actually. 

“Don’t be stupid,” You start, waving him off between moans and gripping his shoulders.

He grinds up harder at your words though, now propping himself up on his elbows and grabbing your face on both sides. 

“You, don’t be stupid.” He says clearly, pointing his thrusts directly at your clit and moaning only slightly as he looks at you.

You swear, at that moment he could see your entire life. Everything about you. Everything you love and hate. The way he doesn’t look through you but at you? 

“You’re actually insane.” You laugh, crumbling to his pointed gaze and thrusts, your legs automatically shooting up to wrap around his waist. 

He seems proud of being called insane right now. Mostly because he can come up with at least fifty reasons as to why this is anything but insanity, but he remains quiet at the feeling of your legs squeezing around him. 

Such a girl was looking for mundane sex toys to have normal sex with? Lucky you, this is his fucking favorite. Plain ‘ol missionary? Check. Legs squeezing around him, almost pulling him in? Check. Looking directly at the face of the person he wants to make feel good? Check. 

You barely notice his lack of control by this point, the closeness alone feels like you’re already having sex but you realize you’re entirely empty still. This is fine though, until it’s not.

When does it not become fine? When his confident moans turn to soft sighs, and you notice his arms shaking a bit to hold his weight above you, and when his eyes go dead staring at you. You can tell he’s focused entirely on the feeling between the two of you, doing nothing more than aggressive yet…weak grinds? 

“Jihoon,” You say, slightly out of breath. 

“Hm?” He responds half-heartedly, releasing his weight from one elbow and dropping his head between your neck and shoulder.

“Fuck me.”

It’s like you can feel the switch in his head go from losing sanity to gaining it back in an instant at those words. He felt like he was pleasuring himself against you for so long, with so much friction between your hand and his abdomen consistently pressing into it. He could have come from this, if you wanted him to anyway. It would have been an intense orgasm after working up for so long, but now? 

He doesn’t even say anything, he doesn’t even move his head from between your neck and shoulder. Instead, you feel him expertly adjust his hips and press in without much trouble. He finds exactly where he belongs so fucking fast that is has you spinning and clenching immediately. 

“Fuck,” He drones out with a long sigh, slowly sinking his cock into you. “You’re throbbing.” 

You chuckle, because yeah. You definitely are, but so is he. You can feel his thick length spreading you open inch by inch, until he’s fully planted into and twitching. Then he doesn’t move again.

“This alone could do me in,” He chuckles against your neck, breathing in a deep sigh and attaching his teeth to your lower ear lobe. “Honestly, I can't believe I didn’t already come just from having my fingers in you.”

You’re both flattered and shocked by this comment, before you can even think to respond he’s talking again.

“You’re so tight, so wet.” He soothes himself through the feeling of your walls clenching around him, not yet wanting to move and just wanting to feel what your body does to him on its own. “It’s so hard not to move right now.

“Please,” You manage to get out, struggling to focus on just one thing with the way he’s talking and the way he sits so perfectly inside of you. “Please, move.”

And he does, instantly. Pulling out and sliding back in so easily that the slapping sound is muted entirely by the matching moan you both release. You can feel his voice vibrating against your neck, and you can imagine he might be able to feel yours through your literal pussy, because it feels like every sound, touch, and sensation is sent straight there for him to enjoy. 

It doesn’t stop either. Both of you shamelessly moaning at the feeling of him snapping his hips into you at perfect speed, with a perfect voice, and a perfect hand moving up to grip your chest. 

He’s practically blanketing you with his body, your legs holding him in this spot, his hair still finding a way to tickle your cheek with each thrust in. It’s so fucking much. It’s so good, and so…comfortable.

You’re comfortable. So comfortable you don’t even feel the need to rub your clit, you don’t want to chase the orgasm, you just want to feel him. And apparently, so does he. 

When he lifts his head, kissing the bottom of your chin and then your lower lip, still the two of you are groaning at each deep thrust in, but he manages to talk through it, somehow.

“Don’t stop,” he says, despite you barely doing anything. “Keep doing that.” He continues as his thrusts pick up pace. 

Only now do you realize that you were doing something. Without noticing, your hands were nearly tearing his back apart. Not literally, but your nails may have dug in a few times. Normally, once you notice doing that, you would stop because normally men don’t want the trace of another woman on him. Jihoon though, he’s in love with seeing remnants of you tomorrow.

Obsessed with the sting of it, loving the idea of going to his night-job tomorrow and staring at all of the toys that don’t offer you a back to hold onto like this. 

You do as he asks much like he does for you, gripping him so tightly that your nails have no choice but to leave half-moon shapes on his skin. Each thrust drags your fingers up, down, up down, and with each thrust it somehow feels deeper, harder, hotter.

When he releases your chest from his other hand and puts it back to your cheek, caressing much like he has each time he’s focused on kissing you, you think you’re a fucking goner. 

As expected, he kisses you at that moment and thrusts once, hard, before holding himself there.

“I’m really close,” He whispers apologetically between kisses, “tell me how to get you there with me.”

You smile when he kisses you again instead of letting you answer, but you fall into it much like he does and you opt to grab that hand on your cheek and guide it to your clit. 

Instantly, he’s rubbing harsh and sloppy circles around it, and you reward him for the perfect work of his fingers yet again with your fingernails digging into his back. He softly moans at that, and you swallow it up all too easily. 

Tensing your muscles, his fingers on your clit work you up so quickly that you go barely warn him of your oncoming orgasm, even as his cock sits leaking and heavy inside of you. You don’t even know how to tell him, all you can do is frantically moan out shortly.

“I’m–” 

Instantly his hips are back at work, barely even thrusting but instead remaining buried into you for the most part. He pulls out an inch and slams back in, wanting your orgasm to get him off more than his own movements. And fuck, it does.

The way you clench when you reach your high, slack lips against his own, he releases at what he could argue is the best possible time. Your tenses muscles work him up perfectly, gently massaging his cock as he releases in full without too much overstimulation. 

And you. You have never gotten off with a man staying mostly still inside of you. Actually, you’ve only gotten off that way with toys because nothing beats getting off while completely filly. Jihoon really is something, or, someone. 

The two of you released together, and his lips fell slack just like yours did. The kissing turned to that of desperate, orgasm-fogged moans into the other’s mouth. For some reason, it was incredibly hot to you that you both reacted that way. So insanely drunk on the other that nothing felt embarrassing.

Even the way his fingers moved on your clit through your orgasm, he somehow knew when to go and when to stop. 

Even now, as your orgasm tapers off, you are so blissfully aware that you want to immediately fall asleep even with him inside of you. Jihoon is polite though, and gently pulls out with a small apology of the mess. 

When he looks at you, looking so sleepy under him, maybe it translates to him too and he instantly yawns but tries to be strong for both of you.

“We should clean up.”

~

There wasn’t even a question in your head when he slept over that night. He didn’t even hint at leaving. Nor did he hint the morning after as you groggily opened your computer for your daily work. 

He did hint that he would miss you when he eventually had to go to his own house and get ready for a day at the sex-shop. 

He also hinted a few times at feeling like, when he looked at you, you weren’t a brand new person in his life. Part of you wonders if that’s because maybe you want to be permanent in his life from now on.

Later that night, he came back. Bright eyes and a stinging back.

For some reason, you feel it’s safe to say that neither of you can stand being apart for too long. So yeah, maybe this is what a normal relationship is like. If, you know, you were in a relationship with him.

Ironically enough, only a few days later that relationship is established in the form of a new car battery and a bottle of lube that he bought for you. 

Not that you need it. (The lube.)

OVER MY HEAD

18+ / mdi

summary: moving out of state for college was a terrifying experience for most people. fortunately for you, you had your older brother wonwoo to guide you while there, and even better, his best friend mingyu.

content: brother'sbestfriend!mingyu, fratboy!mingyu, pining, friends to lovers, angst (only a little), reader's a chronic overthinker, slow burn, smut, f reader, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, wonwoo's kinda absent </3, crying (blame mingyu), etc.

wc: 15k

a/n: idk how frats work so im sorry for any inaccuracies T-T

cont.

masterlist | kofi/patreon

support me through a one-time tip! <3

Wonwoo was only ten years old when his parents decided he was old enough to venture out into his neighborhood alone, immediately wanting to seek his established group of friends from school to run amok, free of parental supervision. This was not without condition, however, as Wonwoo's swift exit was halted by his mother, a very small you in hand as you stared up at your brother.

Most boys would've groaned at their mother's insistence in including their little sister in their outings. Fortunately for you, your older brother Wonwoo was not like most boys. Being your elder by one year, Wonwoo had easily found a best friend in you, not caring for the looks of annoyance he received when he walked up to his friend's house with you in hand, ready to introduce his little sister to his group of friends. Whether the groans of annoyance ever peeved Wonwoo off or not, he never let it show. He tended to ignore any complaints that came from his friends over the years at the inclusion of a younger girl in every occasion. Despite the childish annoyance his friends had at your presence, Wonwoo didn't seem to care, continuing to indulge you as a friend more-so than just a sister as the both of you grew up. Had your mother not asked Wonwoo to include you that first time, you firmly believe Wonwoo would have still found a way to worm you into his social life. He was your best friend after all.

It went like this for years. Every friend group Wonwoo was a part of, every outing, every landmark in his life, you were always there. It was easy for you to befriend Wonwoo's friends over the years. As you both grew up, friends came and went, leaving you and Wonwoo to be one of the only constants in each other's lives. His friends were your friends, and vice versa. The more you grew up, the less new friends of his complained about your presence, having grown out of the 'girls are gross!' phases of their lives. However, there was always one anomaly. One outlier who never dared boo at your presence. And that was Kim Mingyu.

You had met Mingyu at the young age of 9 years old. That same day your brother first brought you along to meet his friends, with you shyly hiding behind his back as they all groaned at the intrusion of a little girl. ('I'm only one year younger', you had thought to yourself at the time). It was almost a chorus of complains, except for one silent voice. That of Kim Mingyu's. The small boy, aged 10, just like your brother, made it a point to step forward and stretch his hand towards yours, promptly introducing himself as Kim Mingyu, Wonwoo's best friend. At first that didn't sit right with you. What did he mean by Wonwoo's best friend? That was your title! Despite your initial childish annoyance, you didn't let it show. You were just excited to meet your brother's friends, feeling an extra bit of appreciation for the boy who welcomed you with open arms.

You kept meeting routinely after that. You'd begrudgingly attend school, being separated by gender during recess throughout all of elementary school, thus unable to hang out with your brother and his friends. And then you'd arrive home, ready to head out and play around with Wonwoo's crew. You grew together like this. Finally in middle school you were able to join Wonwoo's friends even at school. Despite being used to your presence, this still caused controversy among the boys, not wanting to sour their vibe with the presence of a pre-teen girl (But they were pre-teens too, you had thought). But once again, Mingyu welcomed you with open arms, having by now befriended you, and by then even forming a slight rivalry with you over the title of Wonwoo's best friend.

It went on like this until high school. By now, Wonwoo's various friend groups had dispersed with the passing of time. Some friends came and went, while some branched out to other people. The only constants were Wonwoo, Mingyu and, of course, you. You'd hang out with the tall duo every day, never really bothering to make friends of your own. You were not a loner nor a loser by any means; you did have friends, but you knew where your home was, and that was with your brother and his best friend. This is what made junior year of high school even more devastating for you. What was supposed to be a fun year, attending junior prom and preparing for senior year, was filled with isolation from your two best friends, as they were constantly taken away from you by preparation for university. You had dreaded this day. The day you'd pass from being a junior to a senior, inevitably leading to your brother's graduation and subsequent departure as he left for college.

It hadn't been that bad. Mingyu and Wonwoo had gotten accepted to the same college, urging you to come visit whenever you wanted, and reassuring you that in only one more year you'd be reunited. Senior year proved to be hard. Despite having friend groups to fall back on now that your brother was gone, you still missed the elder's presence. And that of who had now become one of your greatest friends; Kim Mingyu. On the rare occasion that Wonwoo was gone - occasions which increased as his college schedule began to become more and more polluted, - Mingyu was always there for you. The man who never treated you as a nuance, but who thoroughly enjoyed your company as much as he did Wonwoo's. He had come to become a nucleus in your life.

Time went by very fast. After a grueling year of separation, you were finally ready to attend university. Your communication with Wonwoo had died out a bit over the year, but you simply chalked it up to scheduling issues and him dealing with the stress of his new lifestyle. Mingyu had surprisingly remained more constant, always updating you on both his life and that of Wonwoo's. Despite any changes in your dynamic, your plan to reunite was still ongoing. You had applied to the same school Mingyu and Wonwoo ended up at, ecstatic at the acceptance letter you received a few months later. It had been decided, you were now to follow in your brother's footsteps and attend university with him. This was the moment you'd waited for a whole year, and it was now finally here.

Attending university was something that terrified you. You no longer had set schedules or teachers that made everything as straightforward as they once did. You were now expected to do things on your own, like any adult. You were also now living alone. Well, with a roommate. But it felt all the same. You had hoped you'd somehow move into some apartment off campus with your friend and brother, but that hope soon died after Wonwoo hit you with the news that they had both joined a fraternity, meaning their housing was already allotted for.

You hadn't wanted to tell your brother about your fears of college life, not wanting to give him the burden, yet again, of holding your hand as he led a path for you. It was only your first week, you reasoned, you'd get the hang of things soon enough.

With your first week came your second and your third, leaving you worn out at how lonely you felt even now that you were so close to your brother. It seemed like his priorities had changed a bit over the past year. Your usually shy and reserved brother had become well known around school, having joined many clubs and even working around school. While still the good boy you always knew him as, his attention was elsewhere for once; no longer putting his sole focus on you. He was busy, with his mind clearly elsewhere at all times. You had expected him to branch out in college, knowing that was simply the natural course of life, but it still disheartened you a bit, having hoped against reason that you'd always be as close as you were as kids. This had come as a heartbreaking revelation to you. You decided to not let it be known, however, choosing to make the best of the few times your brother would still have time to hang out with you.

Like today. Today was your first frat party. Your initiation, as Mingyu called it. Your brother and friend were excited to introduce you to college life, wanting to be present as you attended your first party, just as precaution. You appreciated their concern, truly, still feeling anxious at the brand new environment.

You found yourself alone after a bit, with Wonwoo being dragged away by some of his fraternity brothers, claiming they needed help doing a beer run. You'd learned recently that Wonwoo had made his presence in the frat well-established, usually tending to frat duties out of his own volition. You didn't see him again after that. Your loneliness didn't last for long, however, as you soon found a familiar shadow behind you. Kim Mingyu.

"Hey, baby. How's the party going? Having fun?", he had taken the habit of calling you baby as of recently, teasing you over what he claimed to be an age difference between the two of you.

"The drinks suck, Wonwoo left, I'm overdressed, and I keep freaking out whenever guys approach me," you listed off, sipping the drink in your hand regardless of its stale taste.

"Guys? Who's 'guys'? No one should be talking to you, you're Wonwoo's sister," he had also taken the habit of being overprotective, specially since your arrival at university, at some point giving you a stern talk about which type of guys you should avoid. You felt it kind of hypocritical, really, seeing as Mingyu was the center of attention for many girls at the party.

"Also, you look beautiful. There's no such thing as overdressed," he was also sweet and thoughtful, you remembered.

"Thank you, Gyu. You should go mingle! Don't feel like you have to babysit me."

"Babysit you? We're best friends, I don't know if you remember? We haven't hung out since you moved into campus! Come on, let me make you a better drink," and with that, he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him to a secluded area of the fraternity's kitchen, pulling out various bottles and making a concoction of who knows what.

"Here. Don't ask what it is, and don't tell your parents I fed you alcohol."

You weren't much of a drinker back home, but upon arriving to college you knew you'd have to be down to drink every now and then, so without thinking too much of it, you sipped Mingyu's drink. But that had been a mistake, as you promptly spit out what you could only assume to be lighter fluid in a red solo cup.

"Mingyu, what the fuck?! Did you just give me fucking gasoline? How can you drink this?"

He chuckled at your reaction, gently dabbing your lips with a napkin to get rid of the remnants of the alcohol you'd spit out.

"Okay, too strong for you. Got it. Sorry, baby. Forgot you're still a little kid."

"One year, Mingyu. Eight months, actually."

"Same difference! Now come on, come dance with me. Don't want your first party to be a waste."

You spent the rest of the night like this, being dragged back and forth by a very excitable Mingyu as he showed you what he believed to be the 'proper way to party' in a frat. You appreciated his company. Immensely. All while you forgot the one person who was missing from this important first-time in your college life.

The next time you saw Mingyu was the very next morning. Upon answering the incessant knocks on your door, you were met with a very soft-looking Mingyu, sporting sweats and with two coffees in hand.

"Hey, baby. Hungover?", he stepped in without a verbal welcome, handing you a coffee in the process.

"No, Mingyu. I didn't even get to finish a drink after you fed me literal gasoline. How are you not hungover, you drank like crazy!"

He shrugged, 'You get used to it. You should ask your brother. He went kinda crazy freshman year. He's chilled out a bit this year. I think he might've been overcompensating back then', he rambled.

"Well, you can ask him for me when you see him," you mumbled sadly, hating the reminder that you'd barely seen your brother since your arrival.

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing, Gyu. Never mind."

"No, tell me. You're my best friend, you're supposed to tell me everything," he nudged you, coming to sit next to you on the couch. He kept calling you that too, since your arrival. You had to admit, you appreciated the swift evolution of your friendship with Mingyu upon your brother's absence as your best friend. But part of you felt as if Mingyu was only doing it out of pity, well aware that Wonwoo had been too busy for you lately.

"Mingyu, you're the only one to still think that. We're not even a friend group anymore. Wonwoo's growing out of it. Clearly. There'll probably come a point where we do too."

He stayed quiet for a beat. Okay, maybe that was too intense for a 9am ice breaker.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm friends with Wonwoo. I'm friends with you. Is there anything else to it? Anything I missed??"

"Wonwoo and I haven't spoken properly in weeks. You don't have to keep tabs on me for him anymore. I guess this was just the natural course of life."

"Baby, I'm not 'keeping tabs on you.' You're my best friend. How many times do I have to say it? I don't care that you're Wonwoo's sister. I never have. You know that."

He was right. He'd never made a distinction between you and Wonwoo as far as friendship went. You could even argue that you'd grown closer to Mingyu than Wonwoo during the past few years. The thought depressed you, but it also reassured you of your friendship with Mingyu. You had been slightly insecure of your friendship with Mingyu ever since you'd grown closer, seeing how popular and well loved he was, so it was nice to hear reassurance directly from him.

"You know what, fuck Wonwoo! Let's hang out. Just the two of us."

You laughed, knowing he was kidding at the expletive against your brother, but finding yourself agreeing to his proposal.

"Okay. Where are you taking me?"

~

"Mingyu! Since when do you have a bike?!"

In front of you stood what you could only assume to be your friend's latest impulsive purchase. A black motorcycle you were hoping he did not intend for you to ride.

"C'mon! We used to ride bikes together all the time! This is literally the same thing."

"Bikes? Do you mean bicycles? Yes, Gyu. We rode kiddie bikes, never this!"

"Baby, if you don't get your ass on this bike, I'm gonna pick you up and do it myself."

And with that you found yourself cruising through the city on the back of Mingyu's bike, clutching onto his waist as you felt the wind flow against you.

Arriving was quick. Where you arrived is what you didn't know. You were on a field, far from the general public, on a secluded area hidden by some trees but still with a nice view of the lake in front of you.

"Wonwoo and I hang out here sometimes. No one ever really comes to this part of the park because of how secluded it is. Takes a while by foot, but my bike gets us here pretty quick," he answered your question before you had a chance to verbalize it.

"Hmm. And you brought me here, why?"

"Well," he sat down, patting the patch of grass next to him so you would follow him in his actions, "you seem stressed. Thought maybe you'd wanna vent to me a bit. Like in senior year?"

He was right again. During your lonely final year of high school you had made it a habit of calling up Mingyu whenever your mood soured. You hadn't really stopped to think about how much of a constant presence Mingyu had been to you since your brother began to become more busy.

"It's nothing," you said, laying your head against his shoulder as you both stared at the lake in front of you, enjoying the serenity of the sight.

"Come on. Tell me. I won't tell anyone, pinky promise," he put out his pinky, dragging yours from your lap and intertwining them together.

"It's just .. Wonwoo. I miss him."

"Baby ..." he coo'd at your sad tone, "I know you do. He's just been busy. He loves you, you know that."

"I know, but I haven't really seen him in a while. It's so out of the ordinary for us. Is it the frat? What's keeping him busy, I mean."

"Maybe. Might be school too, his major's pretty hard. I'm not sure, actually. We haven't hung out in a while either."

Oh. So it wasn't just you. That made you feel a bit better.

"It's just. Fuck. It's so dumb. It shouldn't get to me like this. It's just my stupid brother. It's not like we'd be best friends forever," but the more you spoke, the more emotional you got, eventually feeling tears fall form at your eyes at the thought of you and your brother falling away from each other.

"Aigoo. Baby, don't cry. You're too pretty to cry," he wiped your tears with his big thumb, turning to sit even closer to you.

You looked into his eyes, feeling instant comfort from the sweetness in his gaze. You almost fell into a trance, not being able to disconnect your eyes from those of your best friend.

"Listen. How's this? We can just stick together. He can have his space, and when he's ready, we'll both be here, together. How's that sound, pretty? Wanna be my bestie? Promise I won't ever ditch you," he held your hand up again to link with his pinky once more.

He had a way of always comforting you, always putting your feelings above his. Like now. You had just found out his own best friend was icing him out in the same way he did you, yet he was comforting you.

You didn't feel the need for a verbal response, instead unlinking your pinkies and hugging him in return, humming in affirmation as he held you back.

The two of you became even closer after that. You'd join Mingyu at every frat party from then on, occasionally seeing your brother in passing as he was always on his way out, sharing very short moments of interaction with the two of you. Mingyu's constant company helped you reason Wonwoo's absences, taking a page from Mingyu's book and being more understanding.

You'd spent the entire night together, hanging back as you drank and talked, with Mingyu fending off any of his frat brothers who tried to drag him away under the vice of 'fraternity duties.' He seemed to be glued to you, not wanting to leave you alone. Any girls seeking his attention were also quickly sent away by him. You appreciated this, feeling slightly bad at hogging Mingyu's attention all night. But he didn't seem to mind. No matter how insistent you were that he could go mingle, he'd be twice as insistent that he'd rather hang with you.

He'd also visit you almost every other morning, coffee in hand as he walked you to your morning class, even if it meant he'd be late for his own. He had become the biggest presence in your life, swiftly replacing your brother who you hadn't even gotten do see in a few days. You'd spend almost every day together, never tiring of each other's company.

Even now, you were walking towards Mingyu's frat house, seeking his aid in your intro to psych course, knowing that Mingyu had taken that exact same professor his freshman year. He had told you previously that he and Wonwoo had kept a few of their freshman year notes, aware that you'd be joining them this year and would likely take the same basic classes they did when they'd first arrived.

You had known that Wonwoo and Mingyu shared rooms within the frat, but since you had not seen your brother in a few days, you were surprised at finding him upon knocking on Mingyu's door.

"Oh. Hey. What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too, Wonwoo," you walked past him and into the room.

"That's not what I meant. I meant I haven't seen you in a while. How have you been?"

"Really, Wonwoo? I've been around."

"Yeah, I've seen you at parties and stuff. Haven't really gotten to talk to you, though. How's school? Anything you need help with?"

If there was anything your brother was, it was dense. He always had the tendency of getting lost in his own head. It didn't help that he'd sometimes fail to pick up on context cues. His innocent face as he asked about your recent whereabouts made it difficult to express any frustration at him, knowing he probably wasn't even well aware that he'd been ghosting you.

"Nothing, Wonwoo," you sighed, "I'm supposed to meet with Gyu today to go over some notes. What about you? Where have you been lately?"

"Oh. Gyu? He's in the shower, he should be back soon," he half-answered your questions. You shot him an expectant look as you waited for him to continue.

"Well?"

"What?", you continued to stare, "Oh. Oh! Sorry. Yeah, maybe I should explain, right?", he paused. "I've been busy. There's not much else to it. The frat, photography club, been thinking of joining an internship. There's too many things. Been talking to a girl too .. I didn't mean to just leave you alone like that, I'm sorry," he continued, but you'd tuned him out a bit. Why was he telling you all of this now?

"-Mingyu told me you'd been having a hard time your first week here, after that party? So I asked him to look out for you while I figured out my scheduling of things. I'm glad to see you two hanging out again, like in high school."

It had been Wonwoo? What about what Mingyu said? About you and him being friends, not needing Wonwoo to join you as best friends. You felt kind of deflated at Wonwoo's confession. You'd already kind of assumed he was busy, simply dealing with school work as the overachiever he had always been. Hearing that Mingyu's presence was a result of Wonwoo's pity was a hit in the gut, though. Were you really just the annoying little sister that needed constant supervision? You were no longer feeling sour at Wonwoo, but rather at the thought of your friendship with Mingyu being disingenuous. It hadn't felt that way when you were together, and you were sure Mingyu must've liked your company to some extent. But thinking about the implications behind Wonwoo's push to get Mingyu to watch over you made you feel small, it made y-

"Y/N? Are you listening?"

Oh. You'd gotten lost in your head and completely tuned out Wonwoo without realizing.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I want to spend time with you, I really do. I promise I'll do better. I guess I got used to your absence while I was away. Mingyu hounded me over it last week, said you were feeling down about it. I never meant to make you feel like we weren't friends. I'm sorry."

You felt both disappointed and touched. You hated thinking of Mingyu and Wonwoo talking about your feelings behind your back. Well, maybe not behind your back, seeing as Wonwoo had no issue letting you know. It was still embarrassing nonetheless. It was hard not to let all those years of being known as Wonwoo's annoying little sister get to you at times; just a leech that clung to him instead of making friends of her own. You didn't want to believe that Mingyu felt the same way too. But what were you supposed to believe when someone like Mingyu showed so much interest in you? Yeah, sure, it made sense back in middle school when he was still an awkward preteen. Maybe even in high school when he was a bit of a try hard. But in college, where he was member of a frat and nothing short of a heartthrob, it just didn't make sense to you that he'd stick by you out of his own volition. And Wonwoo's words did nothing to help your pre-existing insecurities about it.

But maybe this was all in your head. It was just your best friends looking after you, right? You should've just appreciated the apology and moved on. Which you did, really. But you still couldn't help but wonder.

The rest of your conversation with Wonwoo went as you'd expect. You caught up with each other, just like you would've years ago. It felt nice. Comfortable. It was like falling, knowing there was someone there to catch you. It reminded you of how you'd felt with Mingyu for these past months since your arrival to college. But different. You loved your brother more than anything, but part of you couldn't help but keep the thought of Mingyu in the back of your head even as you were deep in conversation with your brother. Despite having missed him, you now missed Mingyu's presence, even if it was only for a mere moment. Part of you kind of hoped your brother would stay busy so you could keep Mingyu for yourself. You weren't sure what you were feeling. It was just a mixture of emotions jumbling up your stomach.

Your thoughts were then rudely interrupted by the entrance of a very wet Kim Mingyu, your conversation with Wonwoo halting simultaneously. It was like a scene out of a very shitty novel. The steam flowing behind him as he dapped at his hair with a small towel, a bigger one covering his nether region as he entered the room, top half wet and uncovered. This probed no reaction out of Wonwoo. And arguably, no reaction from you, as you immediately looked the other way as if you'd been burned.

"Oh, you're here? Shit, forgot we were supposed to meet an hour earlier, my bad," he responded as if he wasn't standing half naked in front of you. You still made it a point to not look into his eyes, simply squeaking out a short ''s fine' in return.

Wonwoo chuckled at your flustered state, "C'mon, you've seen him in more compromising positions. Remember when he came out of the pool sophomore year with his trousers all the way down? This is nothing. I see worse every day," Mingyu visibly winced at the memory, halting his actions for a second to throw a glare at Wonwoo.

You remembered, but that was pre-pubescent Mingyu!! He did not hold a candle to whoever was standing in front of you in this moment.

"Didn't account for seeing a naked Mingyu today or ever again, thank you! I'll wait outside. You're late, by the way," you bumped Mingyu jokingly before promptly exiting the room, hoping your act had been bought.

You kind of hated the idea of waiting in the common area of a fraternity, not because of the people, but more so the implications of it. Specially knowing your friend and brother would most likely talk about you behind the closed door, but it was either that or be confided in a room with Mingyu as he changed while your brother's presence loomed over you.

You waited in silence, leaning against a wall for a good minute until you were interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Hey! It's you again," it was Yoon Jeonghan, if you weren't mistaken. He was one of the guys you'd spoken to that first time you'd partied in the fraternity, before Mingyu found you and took you under his wing for the night. It was also one of the guys Mingyu had warned you not to speak to (and it had been a long list), citing that he was a 'menace' and he just didn't like the idea of you speaking to him. You'd liked him, though. Despite having only spoken to him for a few minutes that night, he seemed decent enough to hold a conversation with.

"Hi, Jeonghan."

"You remember my name? That's crazy. Must've left an impression on you, huh?"

"Shut up. There's only like twelve of you here, it's not that hard."

"Thirteen," he corrected before continuting, "Oof, you're on first name basis with thirteen guys? What will Mingyu say?", he snickered as he leaned against the wall next to you, shoulder to shoulder, but head facing you.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"C'mon, you're Mingyu's girl. You're off limits. Well, double off limits since you're Wonwoo's sister. If any of us comes near you, we're dead."

You still didn't really understand what he meant. Wonwoo never really cared who you dated. He even encouraged you, as any friend would. He never pulled the 'brother card', nor got in the way if you showed interest in one of his friends (which had happened before, circa the early 2010's when you'd crushed on his bio partner Johnny, but no one needs to know about that disaster). The mention of Mingyu's name made even less sense, seeing as you weren't related in any way. You were interested by the intel Jeonghan was giving you, though, so you decided to play along.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, Gyu warned us all to stay away, said something about you being different from other girls at the frat. Was kinda a dick about it, to be honest," he trailed off.

"Then why are you talking to me?"

He snickered again, leaning closer to you, "I like to live on the edge."

That made you laugh, slapping his shoulder as you unintentionally decreased the distance even more. That's unfortunately when Mingyu finally walked through the door, smile fading at the picture of you and Jeonghan standing so close to each other while Jeonghan pulled laughter from you.

He cleared his throat, interrupting your laugh. "What are we laughing at, Jeonghan?", he gave a tight-lipped smile.

"You," he deadpanned. It was silent for a minute, sans your quiet snort at Mingyu's clear annoyance of the guy, "Well, I'm bored now, I'm gonna go. I'm sure I'll see you around," he winked at you as he clicked his tongue at Mingyu and made his exit, leaving behind a clearly peeved off Mingyu.

You both watched him leave before you turned to face your friend.

"Where's Wonwoo?", you broke the silence. It took him a second to reply, still glaring in the direction in which Jeonghan had left.

"Oh. He's got plans today. Shocking, I know. He's killing time til his meeting with the photography club."

"Ah. Okay .. Do you have your things?"

"What things?"

"The notes? That's kinda why I'm here ..."

"Shit, right. Yeah, I do. Sorry, Jeonghan threw me off," he paused, "What, uh, what were you guys talking about?"

"Oh, nothing. He was just keeping me company while we waited," why tell him what you know when Mingyu was seemingly keeping a few things from you himself, you thought.

"Okay, gotcha. Well, I guess we should go," and with that, you walked towards the exit, heading for Mingyu's bike to go to the spot Mingyu and you had been frequenting.

You studied for a while, attempting to stay focused on the notes Mingyu had been explaining to you. But you couldn't help but he distracted by what Wonwoo had told you, and then interrupting those thoughts by thinking of what Jeonghan had said. You wanted to be straight up and ask Mingyu his intentions with you; whether you were a friend or whether he was simply doing your brother a favour by staying by your side. There was no sensible way of doing it, though. At least not without sounding like a wounded little girl.

"Okay," he suddenly looked up from his book, interrupting the silence, "Something's clearly distracting you. Did Jeonghan say something? You can tell me, you know."

"What? No. He didn't say anything. It was .. it was Wonwoo, actually," you trailed off, not really meeting his eyes.

"Wonwoo?", this seemed to get his attention, as he sat up and broke the one sided eye contact he'd been trying to have with you, opting to look to your side instead, "What did he say?"

"It's just .. Mingyu. I need you to be honest with me, okay?"

He gulped, very uncharacteristic to his usually confident demeanor. You weren't sure why.

"Did Wonwoo put you up to this? He made it seem like maybe ... like maybe this was his idea? You asking me to hang out and stuff. Maybe out of, uh, pity?", you mustered out, feeling embarrassed at even vocalizing your insecurities about your relationship with the man sitting across from you.

He sighed in relief, very unlike the reaction you'd expected, "Oh, god. That? Baby, I already told you. Wonwoo has nothing to do with this. I mean, okay, yeah, he suggested I watch out for you, but that was well after I saw you at that party. It was his idea, except it was mine first. He didn't have to force any pity into me, because I wanted to stick to you even before I knew he'd been ghosting you too."

Oh. You had misunderstood. Again. First your brother and now Gyu. You should've known Mingyu was too nice of a guy to lie to your face like you'd assumed. He was also a terrible liar.

He took your silence as a cue to continue. 'I already told you, I won't ditch you, I even pinky promised! I'm your friend. I know we've only ever been friends while Wonwoo was there, but we can be friends without him, can't we? Now stop doubting my friendship! You're starting to make me feel bad', he pouted, scooting closer to you as you both sat on the grass.

You sighed, "You're right, Gyu. I'm sorry. I swear this will be the last time I let my irrational thoughts get the best of me, okay?"

"Good. Now pay attention, I didn't keep last year's homework hidden in my closet for a whole year for you not to use it."

You and Mingyu kept hanging out just like before, now with that cloud of doubt off your mind. Wonwoo would occasionally join you whenever he found time in his busy schedule, fulfilling the promise he had made you that day in his room. But despite that, it was still mostly just you and Mingyu, seeing as you'd grown closer in the past months.

Your relationship grew as the months passed, spending most of your time with one another. Mingyu always made it known through his actions how much he cared about you as a friend, always including you in outings, walking you to class, scaring off any guys who tried to talk to you, escorting you to parties as your date, helping you remove your makeup after a long night of drinking, holding your hand as he walked you home at night, occasionally staying over when tiredness won over the two of you. Just friend things, really. Except you weren't so sure anymore.

With the passing of time also came the evolution of your feelings. There was too much Mingyu in your life, you were beginning to go a little crazy. You hadn't realized how touchy Mingyu was until you had begun hanging out with him without your brother around. You weren't sure if this was normal. You'd never received such affection from any of your brother's other friends, nor did you ever notice Mingyu ever being this touchy with anyone else. Regardless of the reasoning, there was only so much more you could take before breaking. You'd begun to realize that maybe .. maybe this wasn't just a friendship. At least not to you. Maybe this was why you felt so insecure in the beginning, wondering why Mingyu showed interest in you. You were afraid that maybe, without realizing, you'd confused Mingyu's friendship for more, leading you to a fight within yourself about what it meant for you and Mingyu to become the dynamic duo you now were, growing a relationship outside of Wonwoo.

It didn't help that you hadn't met anyone since coming to university. You'd made friends, sure, but most of your time was (willingly) taken up by Mingyu, and maybe on occasion Wonwoo. Any boys who tried to approach you were swiftly warded off by a very tall and intimidating Mingyu. You were kind of well known at that point for being off limits. Lots of guys saw you as unapproachable, either out of respect for your brother, or out of fear of your best friend. You weren't sure why Mingyu had become even more protective than your brother. You had your hopes as to why, but you knew that this was a 10+ year old friendship you couldn't carelessly risk over some unfounded feelings you'd only recently began to discover. There were times you believed he'd hint at some feelings, but Mingyu was a bit of a wildcard. Having known him for so long, you'd seen him through all his relationships, just as he had seen you through yours. You knew how he behaved around someone he was romantically interested in, and you were sad to admit that no matter how affectionate he was towards you, you were not a prime example of it.

So you decided you'd keep your feelings at bay for now. If they were even those type of feelings in the first place. You'd never been in this situation before, neither had you ever liked Mingyu in this way since meeting him over ten years ago, so, once again, you found yourself feeling uncertain of your relationship with your best friend.

Today was yet again another party. This time your brother would finally be in attendance, having finally found some time off of his seemingly grueling schedule. It was Halloween, after all. You remembered all the years you'd spent Halloween with Wonwoo and Mingyu in the past, occasionally even matching costumes with one another. This year you'd decided to go your own ways and surprise each other with your costumes. The plan was for Mingyu to pick you up from your dorm and walk you to the frat (he insisted, citing that it was 'too late for a pretty girl to be walking around alone!'), which is where you'd meet up with Wonwoo. You'd gone in a different direction for your costume this year, opting for a new look. In past years you liked to either match with Wonwoo or dress up as your latest hyperfixation, but since you were now an adult in college (and you didn't need your parents' veto on your costume anymore ..), you went for something a little more provocative. It wasn't too out there, but it was more skin than you were used to showing. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you adjusted your wig a bit, fixing the red headband that held the look together. You thought maybe your dress might've been too short; slightly inaccurate to the original look, but you had to admit, you looked hot as shit! It'd be worth it if this was your slutty debut.

A knock suddenly interrupted your thoughts. And then another. And another. This was how you could usually tell it was Mingyu. The large man had a habit of being really loud without meaning to. You laughed to yourself at the cute habit and headed towards the door, excited to show him your costume and to take a look at his.

You opened the door, opening your mouth to greet him, only to be interrupted immediately by the sight in front of you. A very shirtless Mingyu. Well, a Mingyu in denim jeans and a matching denim vest. You weren't sure what he was supposed to be, but you didn't want to keep looking long enough to figure it out. For your own sanity.

He had been leaning against the door when you'd opened it, looking up as he spoke his first words to you, "Hey, baby. You ready to- Son of a bitch."

"What? You don't like it?", you pouted. Was it too much? He was literally shirtless, looking like a wet dr- okay, best to not finish that thought.

"What? No! You look gorgeous. Are you, uh, is it Betty Boop?"

"Mingyu! Do you not remember?! I showed you this movie! I'm Mima!! From Perfect Blue!", leave it to Mingyu to lose memory of a movie you'd just shown him a few weeks back.

"I'm sorry, baby, I remember. Just distracted by how pretty you look," he said as he smiled down at you, adorable canines in full view. Damn him. He was always showering you in compliments, not knowing their effect on you as of late.

"Shut up .. What are you even supposed to be? Wait, oh my god. Are you Ken?", jesus, what a cliche. You hadn't even connected the dots until now.

"Listen! I thought you'd be Barbie! Every girl wants to be Barbie. I was trying to be a step ahead of you so we could match! How was I supposed to know you were gonna dress as a character from an indie movie?"

"Aw. You wanted to match? You could've said something, Gyu."

The thought of Mingyu ordering a matching set of denim pants and denim vest at the thought of being the Ken to your Barbie made you coo, completely forcing yourself to ignore the shirtless aspect of his costume.

He tsked, still pouting, "Didn't want you to think I was lame ..." he mumbled, "We've also never matched without Wonwoo."

"I wouldn'tve thought that, Gyu. Want me to throw on a pink dress? We could make it work, I-"

"No!", he halted your speech, "Stay like this. You look insanely hot. Gonna have to keep guys off of you all night, but it'll be worth it. C'mon, baby, let's just go now," he said as he offered his arm for you to link yours with.

Keep guys off of you? Hot? He needed to stop saying these things. You were already feeling lightheaded at the thought of spending the entire night being guarded by an overprotective Mingyu, deluding yourself into thinking that it'd be because he wanted you all to himself.

~

You arrived to the party pretty quick, by now having already corrected three people on your costume on your walk there. Mingyu would laugh next to you every single time, mocking your costume choice and claiming that Barbie would've been a better option, because then you 'could've been such a hot power couple.'

You stuck around each other for most of your stay, only ever straying away from one another whenever Mingyu insisted on going to the kitchen to freshen up your drink, or when various Barbies would stop him to get a picture with him, using their costume as an excuse to get close to Mingyu. It peeved you off a bit, deflating your mood slightly more each time someone interrupted your conversation to drag Mingyu away. But Mingyu was a gentleman and a helpless people pleaser, so he would politely say yes and pose for a bit before moving on, only to eventually be interrupted again. You weren't sure if Mingyu took notice of your frustration, but if he did, he didn't show it. That kind of made you feel worse.

You'd caught up with your brother during Mingyu's short absences, who had just side-eyed you at your costume choice, calling you predictable. He'd dressed as Marty McFly, putting minimal effort into his costume in usual Wonwoo fashion.

"So."

"So?"

"I thought you were supposed to be Mingyu's date?", he asked, as if it was the most obvious thing.

"I am his date. Well, 'date,'" you air quoted, "I'm always his date to your frat's parties, you know that."

He shrugged, "I know, but he seemed excited to do couple's costume with you this year. I thought it was kinda silly, but he even got his costume tailored n everything," he said nonchalantly as he sipped his beer a bit.

"Oh. He didn't really tell me .. It's not like I'm his actual date anyways," and it wasn't like he really needed you when he had so many girls literally lining up for his attention.

"You could be."

"What do you mean?", you were confused by Wonwoo's sudden commentary on this, not even aware that he'd even thought about you and Gyu in that way.

"Just .. I mean, wouldn't be the worst thing in the world."

"Wonwoo, wh-"

"Sorry I took so long! Some other girl wanted a picture and she just wouldn't let me get away. Here, got your favorite," it was Mingyu with his impeccable timing, handing you a drink as he flashed you his classic boyish smile.

"Thank you," you were slightly deflated, wanting to continue your conversation with Wonwoo, and also annoyed at the thought of sharing Mingyu's time with yet another girl. When had you become so dependent on Mingyu's attention? And why was your mood souring so easily at the mere mention of other girls coming from his mouth?

Wonwoo promptly excused himself at the interruption, catching sight of another one of his frat brothers and joining him in whatever he was doing. Gyu bid Wonwoo a quick bye, instantly turning his attention right back to you.

"Having fun?"

"Sure, Gyu. You?"

"Just sure? What's wrong? Want me to get Wonwoo back?"

"No, Mingyu, it's fine. I was thinking about heading home, actually. It's getting kinda late."

"Oh? Okay, let me just let Wonwoo know and I'll go walk you back," he was halfway through turning to go find your brother.

"No, that's fine. You should stay!", you tried to sound as convincing as possible, knowing that sooner or later his attention would be dragged away from you again anyways.

"Stay? What happened to not ditching each other?", he chuckled, "Did you forget the pinky promise?"

You remembered, which is why you wondered why he'd been ditching you all night.

"C'mon, Gyu. Don't you wanna stay with one of the many pretty girls that have been wanting to talk to you all night? I don't wanna cockblock you ..." you felt a little sheepish at even the slight reference to sex, never having really touched the subject with Mingyu in all your years of friendship.

You knew you were being kind of unreasonable. Mingyu hadn't shown any direct interest in any of the girls, and he had clearly wanted to spend the night by your side, but your childish feelings were hurt by all the attention he had been giving other people, feeling like a spoiled little girl who demanded her mom's care at all times.

"You're the only pretty girl I wanna spend my time with," he gave you a sad smile.

He kept doing this. Throwing you a bone but doing nothing else. He'd say things that would have you planning your wedding if it'd been any other guy, constantly feeding you with pet names and endless compliments. Except that's where it always stopped. The only other indication you'd gotten so far about his words having a deeper meaning were the short conversations you had with Jeonghan and Wonwoo. Conversations which were both promptly interrupted by Mingyu, never to be brought up again.

"Gyu, I-"

"Excuse me. Could I get a picture with you? Haven't found any other Ken's around so far," the interruption was unsurprisingly provided by yet another girl in Barbie's classic pink plaid dress, shyly looking at Mingyu as she awaited his response.

You knew Mingyu was popular with girls, but today had kind of felt like a punch in the face.

He looked at her and then back at you. And then back at her and back at you again, clearly fighting the urge to be a gentleman and just do as the girl asked.

You gave them both a tight smile, "I'll see you tomorrow, Gyu," and with that, you began to walk away, feeling bad at the dramatics but knowing that you'd just get your feelings hurt if you saw Mingyu unknowingly flirt with yet another girl.

You didn't get very far, though.

"Hey, wait up!", it was Mingyu. Obviously.

"Gyu, it's fine, you shou-"

"I told you I wouldn't ditch you. Maybe you forgot about it, but I didn't. And this goes both ways. Okay. baby? Now let's go," he grabbed your hand and led you away, leaving behind a disgruntled Barbie who had just wanted a chance to talk to the pretty Ken.

~

You walked in silence most of the way home, not being really in the mood to say anything. Nor knowing what to say, kind of embarrassed by your futile attempts to ditch Mingyu, proving yourself to be kind of a hypocrite.

Before you realized, you were standing in front of your dorm. You turned around to give Mingyu a quick goodbye, not expecting much from him considering his silence during the walk home.

And then he hugged you. He held you close as he leaned down to your height and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, humming at the closeness between you. You held your arms out around him, not really hugging back at first due to the shock of the sudden action, but then proceeding to rib your arms up and down his back soothingly.

"Gyu ..."

"I'm sorry."

"What? Why are you sorry? I'm sorry," he unglued his head from your neck, now staring down at you with sad features on his face, arms still around your waist.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm sorry I ditched you tonight. I didn't mean to. I guess it's hard for me to ignore all the attention sometimes. I made a promise but I kept breaking it tonight. Didn't mean to make you feel like I wasn't paying attention."

"No, Gyu. I'm just being sensitive, it's fine, really! You can be with other people, you shouldn't feel badly about it just because I'm acting like a child," you felt embarrassed admitting it out loud, but it was true, "I guess I got used to having Wonwoo's undivided attention growing up that I became a bit of a brat about it, hah ..."

"Baby, please stop talking about yourself like that before I get mad," he said, half joking, half serious. "I still made you upset, regardless of anything. I saw your face while you watched me be dragged away time after time, and I didn't like what I saw. I'm sorry. I won't ditch you again, I promise. I double promise. I'll be mean about it if I have to, okay?"

You chuckled at that. You couldn't possibly imagine a world where Mingyu would ever be mean. He was the nicest boy you'd ever known.

His reestablishment of the promise made you a bit sad. Knowing you were still stuck at a catch 22; break your friendship if you confessed, or live with Mingyu as close as possible without ever being able to actually have him. But you'd take whatever you could get, wanting Mingyu in your life no matter what.

He'd once again kept his promise. Somehow, by some act of god, becoming even more attentive to you. It made you happy and sad. You were practically in a relationship with Mingyu at this point, except he was the only one who didn't know about it. His frat brothers would joke about it, mocking you by calling you 'baby' whenever Mingyu wasn't around to make fun of the nickname that by now seemed to be your legal name. Even Wonwoo would give you looks whenever he saw the way in which Mingyu would physically stick to you through the night every time you hung out around him.

Mingyu had also made it a point to not entertain any girl - at least while you were around. Any time a girl would come up to him, he'd hold a short interaction and call it a day, instantly turning back around to you. It was funny, really, the way in which they'd give you a dirty look behind his back before promptly accepting their fate and walking away.

At this point your life had become a blur of school, parties, and Mingyu. Every other week you'd be in attendance to a party - or sometimes simply a small gathering between close friends - at Wonwoo and Mingyu's frat. During other days of the week you'd still find yourself there due to assignments you needed help with, or simply to see your brother. More often than not, however, you'd find yourself there to see Mingyu. You were enjoying college life thus far, having forgotten all your worries from your initial arrival a few months back. Mingyu's constant presence (plus yours and Wonwoo's reconciliation) had taken away any of the fears you'd had. Once more, you had befriended Wonwoo's friends, always feeling welcome at the frat and even hanging out with a few members while on your way to and from class.

Now, you were once again at the frat, waiting for Mingyu to get home from class. Jeonghan and Seungcheol put it upon themselves to entertain you until his arrival, teasing you over being Mingyu's unofficial girlfriend as they usually did. You never took it seriously. I mean, yeah you were still in the same place with Mingyu (re: hopelessly in love), and your feelings had only gotten worse with the passing of time, but you also knew what boys were like, having been subjected to their company since you were a little kid.

"Hey babyyy. Looking for Mingyu?"

"Jeonghan, stop fucking calling me that."

He gasps, you roll your eyes, "Is that not your name??"

"Anyways, is he not back yet? Need him back so we can prep the drinks for tonight," now was Cheol's turn to speak.

"He should be back from class already. He told me to just get ready here."

"Here? You're not even allowed here!", you knew Jeonghan was kidding, but it was kinda true. It was an unspoken rule in the frat that the boys couldn't have girls overnight. It was originally set up to prevent partygoers who didn't live there from taking their rooms for hookups. Even as Wonwoo's sister, you weren't an exception.

"I'm not staying. Just for the party. Anyways, I'm just gonna go look for him, I know when his class is. Cheol, please keep him away from me next time I'm here. Bye!"

They both chuckled, bidding their goodbyes and see you laters to you as you headed to the door, still feeling a bit awkward at being the only girl hanging around at the frat before the usual weekly party began; even if you were close friends with the guys. Over time you'd noticed how some of the girls you'd frequently see at the parties would look at you, knowing they probably had less than favorable opinions about you. It's not like you were keeping the pretty frat boys away from them, you were just used to this lifestyle, you always stuck by your brother and his various friend groups through the years, and this was not the exception.

Many even seemed to assume you were dating Mingyu, which you did not blame them for, considering how much time you spent together. A grand majority of them would act bitchy towards you, flirting with him right in front of you even under the belief that he was taken. Mingyu would usually subtly shut them down and lead them away somehow. You were afraid for the moment in which he snapped out of his seemingly self-imposed celibacy and drop you for some girl. You knew it would come eventually, but you still had some unfounded hope that maybe that girl would be you.

~

After having waited for Mingyu at the frat to no avail, you had decided to go search for him at his classroom, thinking he might've stayed a little extra time for some reason. Except you didn't find him there either. You eventually decided to text him, only to get no response. This was quite out of character of him, with him being the one to usually seek you out through text. Calls were also left unanswered, making you think that maybe an emergency came up or that he might've forgotten he had asked you to meet. This was also very uncharacteristic of him. You decided to, for once, not let your thoughts run amok and simply let it go. You had already pushed your insecurities onto Mingyu enough times. Instead, you headed home, head down at the thought of Mingyu forgetting about your meeting, but still planning to get ready to go see him at the party.

Your apparel was nothing too out of the ordinary. You had started dressing a little more maturely after that first attempt at the Halloween party, having enjoyed the reaction your costume had gotten out of Mingyu. Ever since then, you had begun to introduce shorter skirts and lower cut tops into your attire, although still keeping your general style and aesthetic pretty much the same. You felt kind of silly dressing up more just because of Mingyu's reaction that one time, but you could've sworn that he'd become even more protective since you started dressing like that, which you was something you shamelessly enjoyed.

With that, you left your dorm, wanting to catch up with Mingyu after having not seen him all day, something that was extremely out of the ordinary for the two of you. He had been very adamant about you not ditching each other, after all.

You arrived promptly to the party, which had already started and was buzzing as per usual. You walked by a few friends from class, making sure to stop by and say hi to them, along with to a few members of the frat. The one person you hadn't seen thus far had been Mingyu. You even found your brother hanging out with his frat brothers Vernon and Seungkwan, hanging back while they prepared a table for some beer pong. They'd invited you to join in, but you felt uneasy at Mingyu's absence, so you declined and kept walking, hoping to find him. You eventually bumped into Seungcheol. He had mentioned that he needed Mingyu to help him restock drinks before the party, so you asked him if he knew about his whereabouts.

"Oh, yeah. He came back a little after you left. He helped me out but said he had to leave right away. Had to meet with someone or something."

Oh. So had it been just you then?

"Do you know who?"

"Hmm, no, he didn't say. He got a call before he left. It sounded like a girl ..." he shot you an awkward smile at the mention of a girl.

Jesus, did everyone know you had a crush on Mingyu?

"Okay, thanks Cheol. I'll see you later," and with a quick side-hug you left, attempting once more to find your friend.

Was he ignoring your calls? Clearly he had his phone if he picked up someone else's call. Why hadn't he let you know he couldn't meet up anymore? Why'd he even let you come to a party you'd agreed to attend together if he was gonna ditch you? Why was he meeting up with another girl if he was supposed to be your date tonight? This was very unlike him, but it still hurt nonetheless.

You decided to walk the place, still looking for him but also pondering about maybe going home. You knew your feelings shouldn't be hurt over this, but to be fair, Mingyu had unintentionally conditioned you to expect his presence. And knowing that he was blatantly ignoring any form of contact you'd tried to make with him made you feel like a idiot. So you left. The frat was still on campus, so walking yourself to your dorm wouldn't take too long, even if you were used to rides from Mingyu's bike or the occasional piggy back ride he'd give you when you grew too tired of the walk.

You were on one of the top floors when you made your decision to leave, having walked the entire place in search of Mingyu. It made you feel like an idiot now, dressing up for him and chasing after him all day all while he was just carelessly ignoring you. You walked the way back, passing by each of the frat member's designated rooms. Even by Mingyu's too.

Mingyu's timing had always proved to be really inopportune. He'd constantly walk in when you were in the middle of conversation, or knock on your door before you were finished getting ready. Today, however, he had taken the cake.

Just as you were about to walk by his and Wonwoo's room came out a distracted Mingyu, clearly the middle of conversation with whoever was also on their way to exit the room. One moment later you saw who it was. She looked familiar, you thought. Might've been one of the many girls who'd competed for Mingyu's attention at these parties. It didn't really matter to you at that moment. She was walking out of Mingyu's room with him. Girls weren't supposed to be allowed in their rooms after a certain time. Was she the exception to the rule? You watched as she and Mingyu held friendly conversation, with her giving him a kiss on the cheek and a smile as she made her exit. Gyu didn't seem fazed by this. Almost as if it were a daily occurrence. Was it a daily occurrence? Had you just been an idiot chasing after him, hoping he'd maybe look at you differently one of these days?

You felt your emotions take over you. The mere sight of a girl coming out of Mingyu's room late into the night, at an area where partygoers weren't allowed, made your vision blurry with tears. All unfounded hopes you'd had about a future between you and Mingyu were immediately crushed. He didn't like you back. You knew it already, but the confirmation was just a punch in the face. He had been ignoring your calls all day in favour of a girl. One of the many girls he reassured you meant nothing to him, because he'd wanted to give all his attention to you, his best friend.

You could've sworn you stood there watching the short interaction for hours. Time had frozen for you. But not for anyone else. And surely not for Mingyu, who turned around and immediately spotted you after having bid his goodbye to the girl. Your emotions must've been clear on your face, since Mingyu's previous wolfish smile suddenly dropped into a look of worry. It seemed like time had now frozen for him, as his movements halted and his reaction left him.

There was a distance between you, and to find the exit you'd have to pass by Mingyu in order to leave. You took advantage of his shock at your unexpected presence and walked past him, walking as fast as you could in order to not make a scene. Except you didn't get far.

"W-wait!", he managed to grab your arm before you left, softly tugging you in order to stop your movements, but it was futile. Your movements may have stopped but you refused to meet his eye, instead opting for looking down at your feet as you sniffled, feeling embarrassed at how easily you'd started crying.

"Baby, look at me," but you still refused, "Whatever it is that you're thinking didn't happen."

But you didn't respond, frog in your throat and unable to speak, knowing you'd start crying if you did.

"I-it's not what you think, please, I-"

"If you wanted time to .. if you wanted to be alone with .. her, you could've told me," you finally replied, sniffling and gasping all throughout.

"I didn't! I wanted to be with you!"

"I called you and called you and got no response. You didn't show up either. You- God, I don't ... I don't even know why I'm crying,' you took a shaky breath, 'We're not ... It's not like you and I-"

"Don't say that. I'd never even look at another girl like that ... It's just you and me, you know that."

"Mingyu ..." you continued to look down, not wanting to look at him and trigger even more crying.

"Let me explain, okay? But look at me, yeah? Can't stand you not looking at me, baby," he grabbed your chin, urging you to look up, directing your face towards his in order to look down directly into your eyes, "That's it, pretty. Now don't cry. Hate it when you cry."

"I don't know her very well," he begun, "We partnered up for class today and accidentally switched phones. I didn't realize until I was on my way to see you, which is when she called her own phone and asked me to meet. We kept missing each other, so I told her to meet me here so I could give her her phone back. I'd left it charging in my room before helping Cheol. You weren't here when I came back, so I thought I'd just see you later and explain. I didn't mean for you to see that .. There was- there was nothing. Nothing happened, okay, baby? Nothing."

"But the kiss ...?"

"Girls just do that sometimes, baby, I'm sorry. I'll wipe my cheek clean if you want me to, yeah?", he smiled down at you, wiping at your tears.

You felt even like an even bigger idiot now. An innocent interaction and you were pulling all the dramatics, sobbing into the arms of the boy you so desperately wanted. The thought made you even more emotional. How could you ever exist around Mingyu like this?

You unstuck yourself from his hold, feeling sick at yourself, "Gyu, I ..." you cut yourself off with a pathetic gasp, sniffling to prevent snot from falling from your nose.

He quickly held onto you again, "Hmm. Yeah, pretty? Tell me. Still gonna cry over me? You have nothing to cry about, baby, I told you. I'm right here. Never leaving, like I promised. Remember?"

The way he smiled down at you was one you'd never seen from him before. You were beyond embarrassed, but he continued to soothe you, giving you words of affirmation coated with a deeper meaning.

"Mingyu ..?"

You weren't sure what you wanted to say, still sniffling, although a bit more calm due to the comfort the boy gave you.

"What is it, baby? Want me to say it first? I will. I'll tell you. I'll show you. Just .. just wanna savour the moment for a little longer. Is that bad? Love how you worry about me. Just wanna .. wanna enjoy it," he continued to stare into your eyes, hand on your chin, lifting your face closer to his.

There was something unspoken about the way he was speaking to you; the words he was saying. Almost like a confession but not quite. The gap between friends and a little more; not quite lovers.

Both your eyes became lazy, lowering to each other's lips, breaths becoming heavier as Mingyu began to close the distance. It all felt so heavy, and so slow, like a pin could drop and you'd be alarmed by the noise. All your senses were preparing you for a tidal wave. Until it finally came.

"Love you. So much. So fucking much, pretty. You have no idea. Would never hurt you, ever", and with that, he pressed his lips to yours, humming quietly against your mouth. He pulled away soon after. Too soon for your comfort.

"l-love you, Gyu, I ..."

It felt like a huge weight off your shoulders, finally being able to say the three words, albeit mumbled against his lips.

"Loved you always," he interrupted, "Been in love with you ever since I can remember. My pretty girl. You were always meant to be mine. Always wanted to keep you safe, take care of you. Was just waiting for you ..." he said all this as he breathed into your mouth, breath getting heavier by the minute, your mind becoming foggy as you let yourself lean against him.

"Will you let me show you? Show you how bad I love you?"

You nodded desperately, whispering 'Yes' into his lips as he closed the gap again, kissing you with far more strength than the first time.

This was the kiss to beat all kisses. The way he planted his palms on your back, allowing you to lean pliant against his hold. The way he tilted his head slightly to the side to kiss you deeper. The way he sighed against your lips, as if he was finally able to breathe. The way his tongue eased your mouth open, dancing with your own in perfect coordination. The way he hummed against you, close to moaning in pleasure but holding back as a friend would.

The kiss was agony, or at least that's what any spectator would think, if they were to see the way both you and Mingyu furrow your eyebrows as if this was your very last breath and you needed to savior it with everything in you. He held you against him with gentle hands, while yours grabbed onto him as if he was your lifeline, yet you were both equally desperate while kissing one another. The buildup of your feelings took over, increasing the intensity of the kiss immediately. At some point you were both too out of breath, but unable to pull away, simply breathing against each other as you attempted to keep your lips glued.

He finally pulled away, breath heavy as he tried to bring himself back to earth.

"Baby .. Let me .. Let me take you to my room? Is it too soon? Just- Been waiting so long. Love you so much. Wanna show you. Can I?", he gently ran his hands up and down your back as he rambled, eyes crazy as they alternated between your lips and your eyes, unable to focus.

You hesitated. You weren't sure why. You'd wanted him so badly for so long, but now it felt way too real. Your desire for him had you so dizzy you could not think, rendering you a shell of yourself as your heavy gaze stared back at him, no thoughts in mind. Your mind a constant loop of Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu.

"I-It's okay, baby. I don't, don't wanna pressure you ..." he seemed flustered by your lack of answer.

Shit.

No. It'd been enough times of you making him do all the work. So instead of responding, you leaned up and pulled his head back down to your level, kissing him with all your might. You used all the strength you could muster and pushed him against the wall. He let out a surprised noise, but let his body become pliant to your touches, allowing you to press him to the wall and simply following along, seemingly content with whatever you gave him.

You kissed for a bit more, airing out all your emotions against each other's lips. The kiss had quickly become nasty and wet, almost in an animalistic way. Mingyu had also begun to become more daring with his touches, lowering his arms to the small of your waist, pressing your body up against his, letting you feel all of him.

You grew frustrated soon after, or maybe he did, you weren't too sure. But it was only a few moments later that you ended up crashing through his bedroom door, Mingyu quickly locking it behind you without daring to unlock your lips. This time he pushed you against the wall, caging you in with his large body. He pressed himself up against you as close as physically possible, beginning to drag his pelvis against yours. The feeling of his hardness grinding against you made all the air leave your head, rendering you breathless.

"G-gyu ..." you gasped against his mouth, hands going crazy as they scratched against his clothed chest and shoulders.

"I know, baby. So pretty. Just let me take care of you, yeah?", he lifted your arms from his chest, pinning them above you as he ground his hips with even more fervor, making you whine against his lips at the pressure against your crotch.

He ground against you like this for a while, enjoying the mewls of pleasure you let out against his lips. He took advantage of your open mouth against his lips to slip his tongue inside once more, licking into your mouth as he ground against you. Eventually he took control of the kiss, letting go one of your hands and angling your head so he could lick deeper into your mouth. Your eyes rolled back, both at the way he so expertly played with your tongue and at the slow pace he had while grinding what you could only assume to be a massive length hidden under his pants.

"Gyu ..." his name seemed to be the only word you were able to utter in your mindless state, "More. Please, want more ..."

"Anything you want, pretty," he reluctantly unglued himself from you, gently holding your hand to guide you to his bed before sitting you down at the edge of it.

"Wait."

"Hmm? What's wrong, baby?"

"I, uh, I thought you weren't allowed girls in here at this time ..." even in your dazy state, you remembered the rules of the frat, fearing that an annoyed Seungcheol or Seungkwan might come interrupt you and force you out.

"Shh, don't mind that. Won't let anyone take you away from me, yeah baby? Will even kick Wonwoo out for the night. It's just you and me, okay?", he leaned down to peck your lips, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

"You'll let me take care of you now, right baby? Gonna let me show you how much I love you?", he leaned you back on the bed as he said this, climbing over you in order to pin you down.

Your breath began to get heavy again, nodding numbly at his questions as you let your body become weightless; allowing him to do with it as he pleased.

You'd assumed he'd be gentle, - in a similar fashion to his words - but the moment your lips connected once again it was like someone else took over. Some animalistic sense within possessed him as he, for lack of a better word, devoured you. His hips were merciless as he began to rut them against yours once more. His lips trapped yours, taking full control of the kiss. His hands finally found the courage to explore your body, running his hands up and down your legs, taking advantage of the way your short skirt had ridden up. He moaned against your lips at the feeling of your pretty form under his, cursing under his breath when you decided to guide his hands to your breasts, desperate to feel his touch in more sensitive areas of your body.

He untangled his tongue from yours momentarily, looking into your eyes. He furrowed his brows while looking down at you, then lowering his eyes look at your clothed tits, which were currently being held hostage by his large palms.

"Baby ... Can I?"

You bit your lip and nodded up at him.

That was all confirmation he needed before literally ripping your dress off your body. The dress itself might've actually torn in the process, you weren't sure. That didn't matter as soon as Mingyu finally took a look at your naked form, having expertly removed your bra as soon as he'd removed your dress. He let out a groan deep from his chest, physically salivating at your bare chest, hips only covered by a very thin pair of panties, now finally being able to see the entirety of your bare body under his hands.

"Baby ... So fucking beautiful, Jesus Christ. Been hiding this pretty body from me, haven't you?"

"Been dreaming about you for so long, fuck. So beautiful .."

"Look at you, so soft and pretty. And all for me, right baby? Gonna let me play with this pretty body, huh?"

"Wanna remember this. Fuck, can't stop looking at you. Wanna feel all of you. Wanna memorize your body."

In usual Mingyu fashion, his endless praise to you manifested itself even in this scenario, affecting you more than ever. His praise was accompanied by his fondling of your body, running his hands over every curve in your body, occasionally stopping to rub at your nipples as you arched your back at the delicious stimulation.

You could tell he loved the effect he had on you, as he dragged on and on, pulling cries and mewls out of you as he felt you up. Eventually he seemed to grow too desperate for more, getting on his knees at the foot of the bed and dragging your body towards him by your thighs, treating you like a weightless rag doll.

He kissed up and down your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes, meeting your heavy gaze as you waited for him to near the place where you needed him most. He eventually dragged down your panties, slow in his movements as he held them up to his face, breathing in your scent. You gasped at this, having never seen anyone do such a depraved act.

"Gyu ..."

"God, fuck. Even smell so good. Gonna taste so delicious, aren't you baby?"

"Please, Gyu, just .. Ah! Fuck!"

He dove right in, immediately licking and sucking at you, not wanting to waste a single drop. It was animalistic, the way he ate at you. He groaned and moaned against your cunt, forcing you as close as possible to him by holding onto your hips, encouraging you to grind against his face, practically riding his face.

"Just like that, baby. Drag that pretty pussy on my tongue. Gunna eat you up, pretty. Such a tasty pussy, shit."

It didn't take long for him to make you cum. All the months waiting for him, the merciless way in which he had you against the wall dragging his length against you, the way he undressed and caressed you (re: felt you up), the way he praised you all throughout. It all piled up inside you and made you reach the most mind-numbing orgasm you'd ever felt. You felt tears streaming down your face as you screamed his name, instantly falling on your back against the bed all while Mingyu continued to lick at you even in your sensitive state. But you couldn't bring yourself to stop him, growing drunk at the pleasurable pain you felt as be lightly caressed your clit with his tongue.

"Not done, baby. Wan' you again. Be good, yeah? Lemme have you again," his adorable lisp had become even more prominent, leaving him almost slurring through his speech likely due to the pussydrunkness he was feeling.

He promptly flipped you around, placing you on your hands and knees above the bed. He knelt behind you, once more feeling up and down your body, kneading at your ass as you arched your back. You'd expected him to finally fuck you, only to feel his tongue right back on your cunt.

You arched your back even more, mewling out his name once again as he licked at your clit, teasing it by lightly nibbling at it. Everything he did had you crying, delirious on the pleasure he was giving you. The moans of his own pleasure didn't help, nor did the sound of the bed squeaking as he ground his dick against it for relief.

This time you didn't meet your end, instead being flipped around once more and facing the man of your dreams. His face was dripping with your juices, hair a mess from all the pulling you'd done. You'd never seen a more beautiful sight. You reached up to him, feeling up and down his chest before pulling him down to you, smashing your lips to him as you desperately licked into his mouth. You tasted yourself on him, making him moan at the desperate speed of your tongue.

"Taste so good, don't you baby? Fuck, gonna eat you every day now. You're all for me," he groaned against your lips, lifting himself up a bit to finally remove his clothes.

You practically salivated at the sight. You'd seen him naked before, on a few accidental occasions. But seeing him now, sweaty from all the exertion and so close to you, gigantic chest and arms on full display .. It made you breathless. You felt him up, running your hands up and down his chest, wanting to commit it all to memory. He chuckled at your reaction, mumbling a small 'cute' before getting back to business.

Nothing could've prepared you for the moment he finally entered you. The stretch was like no other pleasure you'd ever felt before. It seemed to be the same case for him, as his voice grew in pitch the moment you first tightened up around him.

"Fuck! Baby, don't do that ... Wanna last, fuck."

"Gyu, you're so fucking big. Shit ..."

"Yeah, baby? Gonna split you open. Gonna mold your pussy so you can take me every day. Want that, don't you baby? Wanna keep me warm every morning?"

His words had you once again tightening, causing him the force behind his thrusts to increase, leading to a vicious cycle of pleasuring one another.

The way he moved his hips against you was purely animalistic. The drag of his hips made you fully delirious, his speed superhuman and the strength just enough to have you feeling pleasurable type of pain. He knew what he was doing, angling himself at that spot that had you crying into his neck.

"Right there! Fuck, Gyu, please! There .. There!"

He made it a point to angle himself even deeper, making you feel the delicious drag of his length in the spot where you needed him most. Sensing your orgasm nearing caused Mingyu to bring his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it softly, at a such a slow speed that had you writhing against him, breathlessly whining for more.

He pulled at all stops to drag the most intense orgasm out of you. He repeatedly canted his hips against yours, hitting your g spot continuously. He played with your clit and even leaned down to lick at your tits, stimulating you from every sensitive part of your body in order to drag yet another orgasm out of you.

Your orgasm came soon after, triggering his in return. You screamed out his name, dragging your nails down his back while he fucked you through your high, whispering filthy expletives about how good you felt against your ear. He pulled out before spilling his seed inside you, choosing instead to cum all over your stomach, groaning at the filthy image of you coated in his cum.

You fell limp after that, losing all air in your head and being rendered breathless. You're not sure how long you laid there for, no thought in mind, seeing as the next time you opened your eyes you had already been cleaned up and placed under the sheets. From your spot on the bed you could see a very naked Mingyu walk towards you before slipping under the covers with you, instantly seeking your touch as he held you in his arms.

He spoke up first, "Sorry if that was too much .. Wanted to make love to you, but I guess I got over excited," he chuckled.

"It was perfect, Gyu. You were so sweet, like you always are," you kissed his chest as you said this, all while he gently ran his hands up and down your back, "Love you, Gyu. Sorry I didn't say it properly earlier."

"Love you more."

"You don't have to be competitive about it! But that's not true, by the way," you'd been going insane at your feelings for him for these past new months, there was no way he could win this one.

"Are you sure about that?", he snickered, as if he had some intel you didn't.

"What are you even talking about, Gyu?"

"I've loved you for longer, that's all I'm saying," he started leaving soft pecks on your chest, giggling at his own words.

"Nuh huh!"

"Yuh huh! I've liked you since senior year! You didn't even look my way at the time."

'Senior year? We barely saw each other that year. You and Wonwoo kept leaving me for senior stuff.'

"You know what they say. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. Something like that. Anyways, I've held a candle for you for years. You made me wait all these years. I love you more."

"Wait. You liked me all this time?!", you sat up despite his whine in complaint, "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Baby, I already told you. You didn't like me back. We'd never been around each other without Wonwoo by then. Didn't wanna fuck up our friendship, or make Wonwoo uncomfortable. Now get back here," he dragged you back down to his chest.

"But ..."

"Shhh, it doesn't matter anymore. I waited and now you're mine."

You didn't speak much after that, allowing yourselves to bask in each other's company, holding each other to sleep like you'd always wanted to do. You wanted to ponder on what Mingyu had said; that he'd liked you this whole time. You wanted to think back to moments that could've revealed Mingyu's feelings to you, but Mingyu was right. It didn't matter anymore, because you were now finally his.

You woke up the next morning to loud knocks, startling you from your comfortable slumber. By now, you and Mingyu were a tangled mess of limbs, with no space separating your bodies. You felt warmth and comfort you had never felt before, being pressed up, skin-to-skin.

The knocks hadn't awoken Mingyu, who you'd always known to be a heavy sleeper. You were only half awake yourself, so in your senseless sleepy state, you decided to untangle yourself from Mingyu and go check the door. You threw on Mingyu's button up from last night along with some boxers and headed to the door, only opening it a tiny bit to peek at who was knocking.

In retrospect, you should've known who you'd find on the other side of it, seeing as he did live here. But fortunately, even in your sleepy state you were dressed enough to not traumatize either of you.

"Wow. You're so predictable," it was your brother, wearing the same clothes you'd seen him in last night, taking notice of your current state.

"If you knew I was here, why come?"

"Wanted to confirm. Also, you kept me out all night. Didn't wanna risk unlocking the door and finding something that'd scar me for life."

"Wait. How'd you even know I'd be in here with Mingyu?", you had never mentioned your feelings to your brother. He had alluded to something between you and Mingyu once, but since it was never brought up again, so you assumed it must've just been a fluke.

"I knew the dam would break eventually. Mingyu's not much of a patient guy," he chuckled.

"Gyu? You knew he liked me?!"

"Of course I did. I knew about the both of you. Took you guys too long, to be honest. Watching you both go crazy over it was kinda funny, though," he chuckled to himself again, "Anyways, can you move? I have class in an hour."

"Dick', you mumbled 'And, uh, you can't come in. Gyu's kinda ..."

"Don't finish that sentence. Don't need to know more details. Jesus, was all night not enough?", he paused, shaking his head, "Never mind, don't answer that either. I'm just gonna borrow Cheol's shit. Just leave before you get caught here after hours," and with that he left, allowing you to close the gap on the door as you turned back to face a still-asleep Mingyu.

You laid back down with him, attempting to sneak your way back into his arms, only to finally awake him in the process.

"Mmm, baby?", he mumbled, seeking even more closeness go you, "Was someone at the door?"

"Just Wonwoo. Go back to sleep, Gyu."

"Nonu? What'd he say?"

"Called me a dumbass and told me to get out," you pouted at him.

He chuckled at this, but immediately whining right after, "Nooo, gotta keep you here, remember? Can't let you go anymore. He'll understand, don't worry. You'll just be our roommie."

"Am I moving in now, then?", you giggled against him.

"Yeah, baby. Gonna be us three again, yeah?"

"Yeah," you hummed, happy to have finally bagged your best friend, and knowing your brother would be nothing but supportive about it. After all, you had a tendency of sticking by him. Nothing had changed after all.

a/n: i honestly had no idea how to finish this T-T i hope u enjoyed reading though <3 i proofread most of it but there might still be some mistakes hehe sorry </3

NO SONG WITHOUT YOU

18+ / mdi

summary: with zero experience or interest in the romantic aspect of his life, jihoon finds himself in an unexpected situation when his company decides on a collab between the two of you, not expecting the work-addicted producer to develop a bit of a crush on you.

content: idol!jihoon x idol!reader, afab reader, pining, jihoon's emotionally constipated, jihoon's pov, kinda inexperienced jihoon, smut, dry humping, oral (m receiving), penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 12.6k

a/n: this is probably my fave fic i've written so far!! love writing for jihoon aaaa anyways i hope u guys enjoy <3

masterlist

Jihoon was tired.

Beyond tired, actually. He couldn't remember the last time he'd left his studio at a reasonable time. He knew people on twitter made jokes about him being a bit of a hermit, with fans being able to spot his studio from outside the building, lights always on and indicating the producer was still inside.

He didn't have much of a valid excuse for this, other than being a 'workaholic', or at least that's the term Joshua had recently introduced him to, describing him as the prime example. Jihoon just couldn't help himself. He'd been like this ever since he could remember. If he had an idea, he had to work on it. And unfortunately for him, he was always full of new ideas. If Seventeen was releasing an album, that meant Jihoon already had enough material to fill up the next three albums backed up in a file somewhere in his computer.

Despite always having music prepared months in advance, - even having solo music up for grabs for whichever member desired it - he still found himself constantly working. It's not like anyone demanded this out of him either. It was quite the opposite, actually. From staff, to other producers, to members and even family, everyone always insisted that he took a break, maybe leave producing aside for a month or two. This was inconceivable to him, it was something that was simply out of his comfort zone.

The truth was, Jihoon felt lost. Any time he strayed away from work in some way or other, he didn't know what to do with himself. He felt like a failure in many other aspects of his life. Granted, he was a successful idol and producer, talented in every area necessary in his field, but past that, what did he really have to offer? He'd been stuck in a rut for a few years now. He had his members, his family, maybe some staff, but his social life didn't go much past that. He didn't have many hobbies outside of work either. Sure, he was avid when exercising, even being an overachiever in that area, but that was also kind of part of his job. He knew he needed to step out of his comfort zone at some point and live his life, but he kept making excuses for himself. He was 26 now, and was, quite frankly, beginning to lose hope in certain areas of his life due to his career, - although blaming his career was just an excuse, really - the romantic aspect of his life being one of them.

Jihoon had some experience, okay? It wasn't like he'd never liked a girl before. He'd had a few crushes in elementary, maybe even some up until high school. He'd kissed one of the female trainees back when Pledis was a smaller company (okay, it might've been on a dare, but to Jihoon it counted). A few years after debuting he'd even gone on a few dates with a former staff member from his company. He'd lost his virginity to that same girl, kind of rushing into it due to feeling pressured to just get it over with - something he didn't exactly regret, but wished had been more of a memorable moment. The point was, Jihoon had had a few romantic experiences in his past 26 years on this earth. But, he hadn't ever even gotten close to find that one great love he'd hoped he one day would. For someone who received constant accolades for his lyricism, he was never really able to relate to his own music. He'd never been heartbroken, never had an insane need for someone, never felt romantic love, never been in the throes of passion with a beautiful girl, even. It was all his imagination. His lyrics, that is. And maybe the rest, if he was being honest. He'd dreamt about it lately; the perfect girl who he'd find and sweep off her feet. But that was all it was, a dream.

So, Jihoon was tired. Tired of hauling himself up in his studio to make himself feel something. But that was where he now found himself; stuck and in a rut, hoping for something more.

He was once again in his studio, working on god knows what at this point. He had just finished a quick welive with carats, feeling like he'd accomplished his quota of socialization for the day (I mean, even if it was a one-way conversation, it still counted, right?) and decided to get to work on one of the many unfinished drafts in his hard drive. This was kind of routine by now. He would either get a quick meal with one of the members during their break from rehearsals, or would go back to his studio for a bit to work on music. This would've been fine and dandy if it wasn't for the fact that Jihoon would eventually have ended up right back at his stuido either way. It was the illusion of choice, truly.

He spent a few hours in there, messing around with his guitar and even working on some guides for the members to follow next time they had some time to stop by the Universe Factory. Today felt like a productive day for Jihoon. Granted, he did this literally every single day, but he hadn't felt stuck at any point today. Maybe he was on a lucky streak. He decided to cut the day short there, not wanting to ruin what had been arguably an uninterrupted day of working on music. However, his separation from his studio did not last long, as he received a call from his manager just as he was locking the door behind him. He picked up without much thought.

"What's up?"

"Hey? Jihoon-ah, are you still in the studio by any chance?", Jihoon almost vocalized his amusement at the question. Where else would he be?

"I was just locking up, but yeah, I'm here."

"Good! Stay right there! Gonna head up to talk to you for a bit," and with that he hung up, not leaving Jihoon any chance to respond.

Jihoon and his manager were quite close. This was the case with most idols and their managers, having to spend so much time together. Still, Jihoon found the interaction to be a bit odd. Usually his manager would be one of the many people to insist that Jihoon get his ass out of his studio every once in a while. He didn't mind his request, though, so he quickly reopened the door and sat himself back down on his chair, deciding to mess with a few things as he waited for his manager's arrival.

It took his manager about ten minutes to arrive, Hybe was quite a big building, after all. He knocked on his door, not knowing the access code to Jihoon's studio. The only people who knew his key code were Jihoon himself, and Soonyoung (who had learned it without Jihoon's knowledge, but he was too lazy to change it by now). He got up to open the door, simply expecting another one of his manager's short overviews of Jihoon's schedule for the week, which might've been correct, except that when he opened the door he was met with his manager accompanied by an unfamiliar face.

It was you. Jihoon didn't know exactly who you were, but you carried a familiar air to you. He hadn't really been interacting with many people as of late, so maybe you were just someone he'd seen in passing, he wasn't too sure. You and his manager walked in upon Jihoon's gesture to please come in, moving aside as to not be in your way. He closed the door behind you, accidentally closing the distance between the two of you for a second and becoming a bit flustered at the proximity. He wasn't sure why his manager would bring someone unknown into his studio, but if Jihoon was anything, he was a relaxed guy (or at least he tried to seem like it), so he just sat back down without making any questions, his manager would probably fill him in any moment now anyways.

"Okay, so this is Y/N! You've probably met before, right?"

Uh, not right. And now a little awkward. Was he supposed to lie?

"Oh! No, we haven't, actually. I know a few of his members, though, but this is our first time officially meeting," you spoke up for the first time. So you were friends with his members? That might be how he knew you. That didn't really narrow it down much, though. There were 12 of them, and Seungkwan alone was friends with practically the entire industry.

"Oh? My bad. Well, then I should introduce you, right? Jihoon, this is Y/N! Her group was just recently acquired by Hybe. They moved into the building just over a month ago, if I'm not mistaken," He turned to you as you nodded in affirmation before proceeding, "Y/N, this is Jihoon, producer and partial leader of Seventeen."

He wasn't too sure why he was introducing the two of you. If he got personally introduced to every group Hybe acquired in the past year, he'd probably be here all day. He'd stopped keeping track of who and which groups were now roaming the hallways, being too many for him to count. He wasn't complaining or anything, he was just confused as to why go out of his way.

"Woozi-nim. It's so nice to meet you! I've always been such a huge fan. Your work is .. it's insane. I've looked forward to meeting you for so long," the enthusiasm with which you said this made his lip quirk up a little. Sure, he received accolades on his work every day, but knowing that fellow juniors of his looked up to him always brought a smile to his face, although it still made him a little sheepish at receiving such a forward compliment.

"Oh, I- Thank you. And you can call me Jihoon. It's nice to meet you, too," he smiled shyly at you, not really knowing what to say past that. He felt a bit shy looking at you for some reason, as if he couldn't hold eye contact for too long or he'd burn.

He looked expectantly over at his manager, the instigator of this interaction.

"Oh! Right. Well, as I just said, Y/N's group just moved into the company. And the company's been pushing for some collaborations as of late, you know, in order to maximize all groups within Hybe all at once," Jihoon could kind of see where his manager was going with this, "So, I've brought Y/N along with me since you two will be working together for a feature."

Hold on. Rewind.

"Us? As in just us two?"

"Yeah. Hybe is dividing you guys into subdivisions. Mingyu will be collaborating with someone in BTS a few months from now, and Chan will be with Yeonjun from TXT. I think Seokmin is scheduled with a member of Lesserafim. Not too sure yet, but you're up first. I sent you an email about it a few days ago with the general idea. Did you not get it?"

Oh, right. Jihoon was always quite diligent about his work, but his work mostly entailed Seventeen only. Checking his email wasn't much of a habit of his when he could just call up the few producers that worked for Seventeen whenever he needed to. Collaborations and producer work for other people were not that common to him, so for the most part he would disregard anything that didn't entail his own group.

"Oh, I, uh. No, sorry," he felt slightly bad at having disregarded the person standing in front of him, specially when you had regarded him such such respect. He was giving off a terrible first impression.

"That's fine. Now you know. Well, just wanted to take advantage that you were here today - Hah, well, when aren't you here?", chuckled his manager before continuing, "Just wanted to introduce you just in case. Check the email I sent you when you can, I'll send you over more details of your schedule related to the feature first thing tomorrow, yeah? Y/N here is the main producer for her group too, so you'll be co-producing."

You produced? He didn't mean to sound like an asshole, but there were just so many groups who didn't make their own music. He could sometimes get a bit of an ego over knowing he was an anomaly in his industry, always having taken pivotal part in a good 90% of his group's discography. Still, he wasn't too happy about the concept of having to share the creative process with a producer he had never heard of, if he was quite honest. For the most part he would only work with Bumzu and a few other Hybe producers here and there. He didn't even know your group or the music you were credited for. Hell, he had only found out about this project two minutes ago, having had no voice in the matter. One of the down sides of joining such a huge company that fathered way too many groups at once, he guessed.

He decided to not show his slight discomfort towards the idea, simply offering a polite response before bidding his goodbyes to the two of you. You had stayed behind for a few extra seconds after his manager exited the room, once more voicing your admiration for Jihoon and letting him know you were looking forward to working together. Jihoon had to admit that your praise did something to him. He didn't mean to sound like a total loser when he said this, but he did not interact with girls too much. So receiving such direct praise on his music from a pretty girl who also happened to share a passion with him had his ears turning red. He quickly shook his head at the thought, deciding to just stay at the studio overnight once more and maybe finally go over the email his manager had sent him.

He had to admit, he was quite impressed. Shortly after your arrival he had decided to research you and your group. You were quite well known by then, having debuted the same year as Seventeen and now being one of the top girl groups in the game. Just like Jihoon, you were from a small company and had climbed your way up, eventually being acquired by Hybe just a few months prior. Your stories were quite similar, if he really thought about it. You had also taught yourself how to produce before debuting, taking on the official role of main producer upon making your debut.

He had found out an embarrassing amount of information about you very quickly. He couldn't help himself. He was immediately intrigued by you, even going as far as looking at online forums about you; places that would detail information about you that only a true fanatic would know. He was now privy to trivial information such as your birth year (one year after his), your favorite color (pink), how many moles you had (seven, total), when you joined your company (exactly two months before he joined pledis), your most popular fancam (the one were you wore that pretty purple top), and just general information he'd be embarrassed to relay he now had memorized. He could call himself a bit ... infatuated. He felt beyond creepy, despite all this being public information. He had just met you, why had he just spent the past three hours binging content about you?

Jihoon decided to shrug these thoughts away, instead opting to mentally prepare himself for tomorrow morning, which was apparently the first day in which you'd be meeting to talk over your future schedules together for the next month or so. He had finally checked the multiple emails his manager had sent him about the collaboration, realizing that he'd now have to spend most of his non-Seventeen allocated time with you.

From photoshoots for promo, to the actual producing of the song, the empty slots in his schedules seemed to have filled up on their own, now being occupied by your company, and much to his surprise, he was not annoyed at this sudden intrusion. He felt a weird feeling in his stomach, but it wasn't like the usual nerves he felt before going on an important stage, nor the grumbling he felt whenever he met an idol of his. He felt ... giddy? He was looking forward to it. He felt nervous to see you again, which was really strange considering that he felt completely normal upon meeting you just now. Yeah, you were very pretty (he had eyes, this was just a fact he couldn't deny), but he hadn't had much of a reaction to it. However, now, as he looked at pictures of you on his computer, he couldn't imagine holding eye contact again. He was going mad.

Tomorrow arrived sooner than he thought. Now he was now sitting in his studio, awaiting your arrival. He had impulsively tidied up the place, now embarrassed that you'd seen it a mess the day prior. He also tidied himself up. As he recalled, you were wearing a pretty dress yesterday, so he felt bad you'd caught him in sweats and a three-day-old shirt. He wasn't sure why he wanted to impress you, but he did. Jihoon had the hope of at least befriending you, now having formed some type of interest towards you.

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, making his heart accelerate at the thought of who was on the other side of it. Upon unlocking it, he found you on the other side, smile on your face as you carried in some bowls of .. his favorite meal? into his studio.

"Hi, Woozi-nim! I brought you food, is that's okay? I asked Seungkwan what you liked," oh, so it was Kwannie you were friends with. That made sense. It was touching that you'd gone out of your way to get him something you knew he'd like. Now he felt bad at being empty handed in his own studio.

"Oh, I- Thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"It's no problem! Wanted to thank you for doing this. I know you don't do collaborations that often. Felt kinda bad about imposing," by now the two of you had sat down in front of his desk, chairs slightly too close for comfort as you unwrapped the food in the bags you'd brought in.

"You-you're not. Sorry if I made it seem that way yesterday, hah, I was just caught off guard."

Jesus Christ, he felt so awkward. Your close proximity had him at a loss. He didn't know where to look or what to say. Your perfume was also not helping matters. The pretty scent had him extremely distracted, his mind suddenly being flooded with the thought that, shit, everything about you was pretty. What was wrong with him? Was this his first time interacting with a woman? He had never felt more out of place, except that despite any improper feelings he felt, he still wanted to be in your vicinity.

"-Woozi-nim?"

Shit, had you been talking this whole time?

"Oh, I'm sorry. What were you saying?"

You chuckled at him, clearly not taking offense to his distracted nature, "I was just asking if you had any drafts you wanted to use as a baseline? Or we could use one of my unused drafts? It's whatever you prefer, really. I'd love to work with something of yours, though. I love your style, it's so ... hah, I don't know. It's just so you."

Jihoon thanked god he had not cut his hair as some carats had begged, because now the length allowed him to cover the red of his ears. A single compliment from you had him heating up, clammy hands getting even clammier at the thought of you using his talent as a compliment. If you wanted to use his music, there was just no way for him to deny you. He wanted to hear more of your praise to him.

"Y-yeah? I have uh, a few that I could show you. They're just drafts, but you know."

You visibly perked up at this, scooting even closer to him as he began to fiddle with his computer, opening up some files to show you. Your excitement at his work had him swooning internally. The amount of interest you'd been showing since meeting yesterday was already getting the better of him.

"Woozi-nim, holy shit. These are hundreds of files. Are these all unfinished?"

"Uh, yeah. I uh, tend to have a few drafts saved for future projects."

"I get that. Me too, but these have to be over 300 unfinished songs," you were in clear shock (perhaps admiration?) of the endless tracks in front of you. Jihoon wasn't sure if he should feel ashamed at having so much unfinished work (which made bit feel like a bit of a loser), or be proud since you seemed to be impressed at the vast number.

"I like to be prepared. You know, just in case."

"It's .. wow. I knew you were good, but this is insane, Woozi-nim."

"I, you can call me Jihoon," he didn't really care much for the distinction between Woozi and Jihoon at this point; he was pretty used to both. But a part of him just wanted to hear you call him by his real name; the one only those close to him really used. He also wanted an out from the conversation, feeling too flustered at your compliments.

You chuckled, nodding at him, "Okay, Jihoon. Sorry, didn't really know what name to go for at first."

"No, it-it's fine. I'm only a year older. You can speak comfortably."

The rest of the conversation was filled with technicalities about the collaboration. Now that you two had established a, let's say, closer acquaintance, you were able to discuss your ideas more comfortably. Jihoon still had to put up with the endless compliments about his work as you two went through possible tracks for the song, but he tried his best to take them like a champ, simply chuckling shyly and shrugging them off. Your genuine admiration for his skill had him reeling inside, enamored with the tone of your voice any time you'd express excitement at hearing exclusive Universe Factory content. He hadn't felt butterflies in his stomach like this in, well, ever. He felt like he was a high school student with a silly crush.

The disappointment in his face as you parted ways must've been clear (which made him embarrassed beyond belief), as you pulled out your phone and asked him to put his contact in, letting him know you'd be seeing him soon. The possession of your contact info made him excited. He knew it was probably just for work purposes, but he held a stupid hope in the back of his head that you'd given it to him because you had interest in meeting again soon.

And you did see each other soon, consistently meeting in order to work on the song. A few of the times you were joined by Bumzu (who was also helping out with the song), or Soonyoung (who was just a nosy bastard who wouldn't leave Jihoon's studio), which made him curse out his two friends, wanting you all to himself. His crush had developed quickly after that second meeting. You were now all he thought about. Every morning when he got ready to start his day, he wondered which shirt you'd like him best in. Would you like if he trimmed his hair or did you like it long? What did you like in guys? (Except had already gone on incognito mode on his phone to search your ideal type, growing instantly embarrassed and exiting out of the tab). He thought of you as he exercised, wondering if you'd like his muscles and physique. His entire existence was surrounded by thoughts of you. And he hoped maybe he was also in your mind.

The first time he saw you outside his studio walls was at the Hybe gym as he worked out with Mingyu, Soonyoung and Joshua. He almost lost hold on the dumbbells in his hands upon spotting you, tight leggings and cropped shirt adorning your body. He had seen you in less clothing before (Only ever through a screen, in all the pretty concept photos your group had done, or in the occasional fancam he'd come across), but seeing your silhouette in the flesh had all thoughts leaving his mind. He felt ashamed at his way of thinking. He didn't want to objectify you like that, but the thoughts of your beauty had not left his mind for two weeks now, since the day he first met you.

But his eyes couldn't be helped, glued to your form as you walked into the place, paying extra attention to the parts that stood out most for him. He was like a depraved monster, his breath getting ragged as he watched you move around, licking his lips and sighing at every small movement you made. God, what was happening to him? Why was he so immediately aroused? Luckily, his thoughts were quickly interrupted by a cough from a very annoying Kim Mingyu, who had just been spotting him before his abrupt stop.

"Hyung .. You're too obvious."

"Wha-what are you talking about?", he did not like the smirk attached to Mingyu's face, nor the matching mocking smile in Soonyoung and Joshua's.

"You should see him when she's sitting in his studio. It's sad to watch," snickered the fellow 96-liner.

"Oh? She's the girl? Damn, hyung. She's really pretty."

"It's not- there's no girl. We're just working together," his feelings were already complicated enough, he didn't need the involvement of his members' teasing.

"C'mon, Hyung! It's okay if you like her. She's pretty, she's an idol-producer. She's perfect for you. I think you should go for it," encouraged Mingyu, in his optimistic Mingyu-fashion.

"Yeah, I mean. You were just about to cum in your pants at just seeing her in some leggings. I don't think you have anything to lose if you're already at the point of public indecency."

Yeah, this was exactly why he wanted to keep them as far away as possible.

"Soonyoung, I swear to g-"

"Jihoon? Oh my god, hi! I didn't realize you were here," it was you, now at a closer proximity and a slight sheen of sweat attached to your skin. Had Jihoon not been snapped out of his trance earlier, he probably would've been salivating by now.

"Oh. Hi Y/N. How are you?", he felt like he was being scrutinized for his every word and move by his members, which made him feel extremely awkward (more than usual).

"Good! I didn't know you used the company gym. I'd never seen you here before. You should've told me. We could've come together," you smiled before turning to his friends, "Hi! I'm Y/N, it's nice to meet you!"

Soonyoung made a show of stretching his hand out to you, bowing way too low for such a casual setting (probably just to peeve Jihoon). He was followed by Joshua, who held onto your hand in a way that had Jihoon fuming to himself.

"Hello, Y/N. I think we might've met before. You're Kwannie's friend, right?"

"Oh, right! Yeah, I've been to your guys' practice room before, but Jihoon didn't recognize me when we first met, so I wanted to re-introduce myself just in case," you giggled in Jihoon's direction.

"Don't mind him. That's just Jihoon. He's too distracted for his own good. I'm Kim Mingyu, by the way," the youngest shot you a flirtatious smile.

He needed all of them to keep the flirting as toned down as humanly possible. Although jealousy was not an emotion he felt often, the thought of his best friends even looking at you had his ears turning red in anger. But in very expected fashion, they all continued to take turns flirting with you for the next twenty minutes, completely shrugging off any intention of working out they might've had before having spotted you. Luckily (and surprisingly) for him, you were not reciprocating the flirting, nor where your eyes ever off of Jihoon for too long, always including him in your responses to his members one way or another.

You were somehow immune to the charms of Kwon Soonyoung, which, yeah, Jihoon didn't blame you for. You were also unaffected by Jisoo, which was a little more rare from Jihoon's experience. What shocked him most, though, was that your eyes still stayed on him even while one Kim Mingyu blatantly flirted with you. He'd known one too many girls who had fallen victim to his flirting (whether it be intentional or not), and to see you fully shrug him off in favor of looking to Jihoon instead had his heart going at an inhuman speed.

The interaction ended not too much time later, leaving Jihoon's ears red, but now from embarrassment at his friends slyly suggesting his interest at you multiple times throughout the conversation. Despite them being subtle about it, he was still mortified, specially when by the end of it, they'd pushed him to walk you back to your practice room while they wandered off on their own.

"I'm so sorry about them. They can be a bit much."

"It's fine, Jihoon. Don't worry about it. They were really fun. I can see how you're all so close."

"Ah, yeah. You know how it is .. Uh, sorry they kept hitting on you like that,"

he knew he was a bit of an idiot for bringing it up, but he wanted to gauge your feelings on it. He needed to know if he at least held a chance against his members or if you'd just been being nice by not reciprocating in front of him.

You chuckled as you responded, "I know they weren't being serious about it, Jihoon. Don't sweat it. It's not them I'm interested in anyways."

Oh, great. That was good to hear .. Wait. What?

"W-What?l"

"Oh. We're here. This is my group's practice room. Sorry I made you walk all the way here, I know your practice room is like five floors up," you apologized sheepishly, completely disregarding what you'd just said.

"I-it's fine. I'll see you on Thursday, then?"

"Thursday? We have a shoot tomorrow, Jihoon. Remember? We need a jacket shoot for the collab. It was on the schedule."

Oh, fuck. He had completely blanked on that. You guys were almost done recording the finishing touches to the song, but he forgot you guys also needed to do the shoot for the promo and learn the choreo as soon as you gave the choreographers the finalized version for the single. There was still so much to be done, which only meant even more time spent with you.

"Yeah, right. Sorry, hah, completely spaced out on that. I'll see you tomo-"

"Come pick me up?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, stop by my practice room so we can walk together? Is that okay?"

Did you- did you want to spend even more time with him? He wasn't complaining. He wanted all his time to be consumed by you, but .. was the feeling mutual?

"Yes," he paused, realizing his answer had been too short and mechanical, "I mean, yeah, sure, I don't mind. I'll see you here tomorrow morning."

You giggled at him before bidding your goodbye once more, but this time offering him a quick side hug before disappearing through the door to your practice room. Jihoon was glad you were gone, because this time it wasn't just his ears that were red, but his whole face had begun to resemble a tomato.

It was time to admit to himself that he was down bad tremendously for you.

Jihoon had not at any moment stopped to wonder what type of vibe the collaboration was meant to follow. Yeah, he was working on the song (which was almost finalized by now), so he knew it was pretty much a pop-rock-ish vibe that they were going for, but he didn't know what the rest of the equation would look like, which was something he wished he'd prepared a bit better for.

He had walked you over this morning, even being enticed by Seungkwan into bringing you your favorite drink as a nice gesture (which worked perfectly, as it won him over yet another side hug). The two of you arrived to the designated area for photoshoots located in one of the lower floors of the Hybe building, then went your separate ways to head over to hair and makeup in order to get your outfits situated. He had to admit he liked his outfit. It was a little more provocative than usual, with it being mostly black leather and the top being unbuttoned enough to show off most of his abdomen. It was your outfit, however, that had him reeling.

Nothing could have prepared him for the moment he stepped out and spotted you doing a few solo shots in preparation, your outfit and makeup already perfectly in place. He had no words to express how he felt upon seeing you. You looked so ... gorgeous. Unsure of how to react at the sight in front of him, he stood there staring, almost as if he'd seen an apparition. It wasn't until one of the photographers called him over that he managed to regain sense of self and join you.

The entirety of the photoshoot was absolute hell for Jihoon. This was the closest he'd ever been to you (sans the now two quick side hugs you'd given him in the past day). The shoot was a bit .. sensual in nature. The first set of outfits were edgier, so the shoot was the basic scenario you'd picture for a punk-rock pictorial. The second set of outfits had been the issue, because they went in the complete opposite direction. You were in a beaten down motel room setting, wearing very simple outfits, although they were both very skimpy and thin, almost as if to signify the simplicity of the concept. You two posed together on the bed, with your poses getting more and more intimate by the minute. At some point he had been directed to embrace you as he looked into your lips, with the proximity being way too close for comfort (or at least that's what he tried to tell himself). At another point he was kneeling on the bed as he looked up at you, your eyes simulating lust as you looked down on him, hand on his chin, lifting his gaze to yours.

The shoot had been an experience, to say the least. Jihoon wasn't sure how he survived it without breaking. He thanked the gods for the years of preparation with all types of shoots he'd done with the members over the years. However, completion of the shoot did not mean he was unaffected. He had no idea how he'd get the image of your lips so close to his out of his mind. Despite knowing it'd all been professional and strictly fake, he could've sworn he felt something every time your eyes would meet when at such a close distance. He wanted it to be real so badly, but once again he chalked it up to being wishful thinking. At least the worst of it was over, and he could now get back to sitting next to you in his studio at a respectable distance.

~

Jihoon had been an idiot to ever believe that the shoot had been the worst of it.

It had now been a week since the dreaded photoshoot (The one that had him up at night imagining what it would've been like if he had just closed the gap between your lips, damning anyone else in the room), and now it had been a few days since the song had finally been completed. He had thoroughly enjoyed co-producing with you, geeking at your ability to compliment each other perfectly. Your voice was yet another thing he had fallen in love with during the process, fully enamored by every single take you did. It had actually slowed down the process, as Jihoon green-lit every single one of your takes due to the rose-colored glasses that prevented him from catching mistakes you swore you'd committed during a few of the takes. You seemed to be similar, however, as you continued to shower him in compliments (even at the shoot, where you had complimented him with his hard work at the gym - a moment he chose to disregard or else he would've lost his mind at the implications), refusing to admit any faults of his while recording.

Now, however, he found himself in very difficult and unchartered waters. Any other time in which he'd produced a song, he'd never been involved further than that. He'd done duo shoots before, with women at that, but what he'd never done was share a choreography with someone who wasn't a member of Seventeen. He had danced with women before, of course, even having participated in more sensual dances, but this felt different. All previous times had been with nameless backup dancers he had never known too well. This was you. He now had to work through an entire choreo with you as the two of you danced around each other (physically and figuratively, he believed).

Most of the song involved a very casual choreo, as the two of you danced mostly separately but complimented one another. The kicker was the bridge of the song, where the melody mellowed out a bit and allowed for a quick dance break of sorts. It was very sensual in nature, and required you and Jihoon to tangle against each other as you used the other's body to complete the dance. Going over it had been full of shy smiles and eyes that couldn't seem to meet. It almost made him believe that you'd felt just as flustered as he did. When you actually began to dance over that part, however, you left Jihoon's mouth watering at how easy it was for you to meld your body to his; how you would guide his shy hands to place them in all the correct places. The feeling of your body against his was new and unfamiliar, but it felt so right to him. He wanted nothing more than to leave his mark on your skin, signaling that he was the only one meant to touch there. He was truly going mad.

It had now been about two months since Jihoon had first met you. The song hadn't been released yet, but most preparations for it had been done. All that was left was a quick music video shoot plus a few music show appearances that would come after the actual release of the song. Thus far, the song had been announced, with a pending release date of a month from now. Jihoon had enjoyed public reaction to the unexpected collab, with people even going as far as calling you a dynamic duo due to your respective reputations as the main producers of your groups.

You seemed to also enjoy knowing the news had finally broken to the public, even going as far as mentioning Jihoon in some of your lives. He specifically recalled a moment he'd seen as he watched it live, one that had him blushing and kicking his feet. You'd been asked about what it was like working with Jihoon, to which you responded with a whole paragraph of compliments directed at his work ethic, along with a short quip about how cute you found Jihoon to be, deeming it 'difficult to focus with him around.' He felt like he was on cloud nine at the comment, despite how lightheartedly you had delivered it.

After that (and a few more instances of you shooting compliments his way), he had decided he wanted to see you outside of a work-related schedule. He had begun making excuses to find himself on your group's floor, going as far as using Seungkwan and Soonyoung (who you'd unfortunately befriended due to his constant unwanted presence as you two worked on your song) as pawns in order to not be as obvious whenever he went to see you. Despite your usually outgoing demeanor, you seemed a bit more reserved whenever it was only you and Jihoon. He wondered if it was because of his quiet demeanor, or because you might've maybe returned his feelings and felt too shy to be too expressive around your crush - he knew damn well that was his case, at least.

Today the two of you were working out together at the gym - a huge feat for Jihoon, who could not help but ogle at you whenever you weren't paying attention - with him playing the role of your spotter. He had extensive knowledge of weightlifting, which he had been proud to impress you with. Right now, you were working on your arms, which required Jihoon at a close proximity in order to make sure you didn't get hurt. He enjoyed this way more than he could admit to anyone or himself.

"Is this okay? Is this the right position to do it?", you questioned as you made eye contact with him through the mirror. Your arms were lifted above your shoulders, with dumbbells on each of them as you attempted to lift them both at once.

"Yeah. That's perfect. Is it too heavy? Do you need to stop?"

"No, I'm fine, Ji, I promise. Just stand a little closer, yeah? I don't wanna drop them. And put your arms under mine?", he followed your instructions, now towering over you from behind as you sat in front of him.

The two of you had grown more comfortable in the past two weeks or so, seeing each other almost every day while outside of official schedules. He'd learned that, unlike him, you didn't have any issues with personal space, often allowing him to stand too close for comfort. He couldn't complain, though, as he was always too hypnotized by the proximity.

"Shit!", you yelped, almost dropping the dumbbell before Jihoon managed to intercept it. You had begun to do a set before the one minute mark passed, deeming you too weak to lift the dumbbell all the way up. Luckily, you had instructed Jihoon to stand close to you in order to prevent any actual damage.

"Are you okay?", he asked as he placed the dumbbells on the ground, rounding the seat in order to stand in front of your sitting form.

It was mind-numbing, really. The angle in which he was looking down at you, with your pretty eyes looking back at him with a semi-worried expression on your face at the shock of almost dropping such a heavy weight on yourself. The incident left his mind immediately at the sight of you, a layer of sweat covering your skin as you panted while looking up at him. He pulled you up by your arms, helping you stand in front of him. In very cliche fashion, you tripped a bit, almost landing on him before he caught you by your forearms. The classic 'falling-atop-your-crush' trope did not happen, but he still ended up at even a closer proximity to you. Just when he had finally begun to forget the sight of your lips right in front of his from back when you did the jacket shoot together.

He did not move back, and neither did you, allowing the small distance between you to fog both of your minds.

"T-thanks, Hoonie. Could've really hurt myself," this was the first time he'd ever heard a stutter out of you, with your eyes not looking into his as they usually did. Your closeness still not diminishing even when the danger of the situation had already dissipated.

"'Course. Uh, I .. Maybe we should go back to a lighter weight?"

It took you a moment to respond, eventually choosing to look back at him with your pretty eyes, a seemingly empty head to match. He liked the look on you. He could've sworn he saw your eyes lower to his lips, but his mind was too clouded to confirm.

"Uh, actually, I think im done for the day. Is that okay? I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Oh, right. Yeah. I'll meet you in front of your practice room?", he was confused at your sudden departure, dreading the separation, but he figured one of you would have to break the spell eventually.

"Yeah. See you there, Hoonie. I'll text you later, okay?", you gave him a quick peck on his cheek before turning to the exit, leaving behind a beet-red Jihoon as he tried to get his heartbeat to slow to a healthy rhythm.

He was left standing there, in the cold and empty company gym as he pondered as to whether or not his feelings may be mutual.

~

The next day the two of you met again, no mention of yesterday at all. What would there be to mention anyways? That you two stood close to each other? Jihoon felt like such a loser even having considered it anything. He was just inexperienced at this, and very much touch starved, so any small suggestive interaction had him overthinking. Like right now, as you hooked your arm on his to walk along the Hybe building together, not a care in the world about anyone who would see you.

"Did you see the outline for the music video?", you spoke up once the two of you had reached the cafeteria, picking a secluded table to sit at - not that many people wandered there anyway.

"Hmm. No, what is it?", he still hadn't managed to beat the habit of not checking his emails.

You giggled, seeming a little flustered, "Uh, we're playing a couple. Very Bonnie and Clyde but with a grudge twist. Seems pretty cool, actually."

"Oh. We-we're playing a couple?"

"Yeah. I think we can pull it off. You did really good at the shoot. Did you see the finished product? Okay, never mind. I know you didn't. They look really good, though. We look very convincing."

He knew you didn't mean anything by it, but you constantly had him wondering. If you liked him you wouldn't be this direct, right? This must've all been very lighthearted to you. Sure, you were friends, but that's where it all ended for you. Jihoon was the complete opposite. Every single interaction you had had him falling deeper and deeper into a hole of infatuation for you. There was nothing about you he wasn't obsessed with. It had begun to manifest in all areas of his life, even his work. He had never had more unfinished love songs in his hard drive.

Unbeknownst to you, he had purposely avoided taking a look at those pictures, knowing his mind would go blank at the image of you looking at him with those lustful eyes from a third-person perspective. Living through it already had him in agony night after night as he thought of nothing but you.

"Y-yeah. I saw them," he lied, "You did amazing."

"Really?", you were always giddy at his compliments (which didn't come often due to his shy demeanor towards you), "I've never done a more provocative concept like this before. It's fun. It suits you a lot, Jihoon. I'm glad I got to do it with you of all people."

And you had no idea how glad he was too.

Shooting the music video had somehow been even more agonizing than the photoshoot. It was two grueling days of constant time spent together. He loved your company, but the stylists kept insisting on dressing you in the most provocative outfits imaginable to man. He couldn't think while he looked at you. You were like a siren. Even the strongest of men wouldn't be able to resist you.

The worst of it came in the form of the director instructing you two to act like two lovers against the world. Word for word. It wasn't difficult for Jihoon to pretend he was enamored by you, but he was truly at a loss of words over how well you also played your role. By now he had become numb to your touch, having run through the choreography with you multiple times by now, and with you having become increasingly touchier through the time you'd known each other.

He thanked god under his breath as soon as the two days came to a close, knowing that now he could at least keep his feelings under wraps for a while. It was now about two weeks until the release of the song. According to the schedule, all that was left was one pre-recorded Studio Choom performance, two comeback shows after the release of the song, and two variety show appearances together. It was all pretty straightforward from now on. There was no way Jihoon wouldn't be able to put up with what was left. He had this in the bag.

The worst thing imaginable happened after that. Jihoon had not planned for this, nor had you, apparently.

It was very sudden and came completely out of left field. It pertained to you, but had affected Jihoon more than anyone involved.

Dispatch had released an article just a week before the official release of the song. Promotions had only begun, but had been slightly disrupted by this sudden interruption.

The article featured you, and an unknown man. They were clearly pictures taken off-guard, from a distance. You were in front of some building, ignorant to any cameras nearby. You were too close for Jihoon's comfort. He knew there was some type of relationship there. The caption to the picture didn't help matters either. Something about an estranged lover you'd been keeping secret from the media. There were too many pictures for Jihoon to process. In some you were embracing, while in others you were sharing a low-quality peck from what he could tell.

Seeing that article had been an absolute punch in the gut. There was no argument against it. There was clearly something between you and that guy. He was standing too close to you, even holding onto you in most of the pictures. You could barely tell it was you, but to Jihoon it was obvious. He had never felt heartbreak like this before. The two of you had never dated or even insinuated actual interest in the other, but it still felt like betrayal to him, as irrational as that thought was. It was all his fault, really. Had he told you about his feelings, maybe things would've been different.

Jihoon felt like an idiot. Of course this had all been just a business transaction to you. You were assigned to work with him, just as he was you. Even if he had led himself to believe that the feelings might've somehow been mutual, it had all just been in his head. What would you see in him anyways? Yeah, sure, you had a few things in common, but who in their right mind would ever want to be with the empty-hearted producer who cared for nothing but work. Hell, the day he met you was yet another day in which he had been willingly locked in his studio all day. That was what you would've been signing up for, had you looked his way. He didn't wish such a loveless relationship to anyone. He knew by now that he did- he did love you, but he knew he was probably unable to love you in the way you deserved. He was incapable of that. At 26, he'd had no experience with love. Why would someone as beautiful and amazing as you want to be with someone like him?

He was in love with you. That was something he could now full-heartedly admit to himself. Within these two months he had fallen deeply in love with you. Nothing could change that by now, not even knowing that you were already taken. He couldn't help himself in locking himself in his house after that, ignoring and all messages from both you and his manager regarding the few rehearsals he had skipped over.

Hybe did their damage control, making the situation go away as soon as it arose, but to Jihoon the damage had been done. He felt like an irrational idiot being hurt by this, but he needed to be away from you for a few days. You hadn't done anything to him, but he couldn't see you right now without feeling pain. He was punishing you with no proper justification, but his feelings were too strong for him to put up with.

A little over an entire day went on like this, with no communication from Jihoon to anyone. He was surprised no one had come looking for him until now, the moment in which bangs against his front door could be heard all the way from his room. Whoever was looking for him had made liberal use of the doorbell too, not giving him a single break from its constant ringing as he tried to ignore it. He finally grew too tired of it, deciding to give up his moping and going downstairs to beg that person to leave him alone to his misery. He still needed a few days before he could go face his reality. He couldn't face you just yet.

Except the choice had been made for him. His first mistake had been not checking the doorbell camera, which would've made him privy on who exactly was knocking on his door. He felt bad at thinking this, but had he known it was you, he never would've opened it.

He was beyond embarrassed at his appearance, once more wearing a three-day-old shirt and his cheeks damp with the tears he hadn't yet wiped away. You, on the other hand, looked as beautiful as ever. You carried a worried look on your face, lips pouty and eyebrows furrowed as you looked at him. He was not given time to welcome you in before you barged in for yourself, launching yourself at him in a tight hug before he could say anything. He wasn't an idiot, and he was too weak for his liking, so he held you back just as tight, enjoying a good three or so minutes of silence as you held each other.

You pulled away too soon for his liking, unhooking your face from the crook of his neck as you spoke up, still holding onto him, "Jihoon ... I'm so sorry. It's- it's not what you think, I swear. Please believe me."

He wasn't sure why you were so apologetic. You didn't owe him anything. He felt like even more of a loser at making you feel like you had to apologize for having a boyfriend. He knew that by now there was no way you didn't know about his crush on you, which made him feel even more humiliated at the situation. He separated himself from you for the first time ever, creating some distance as he refused to look at you. He took this chance to close the door he had left open when you had attacked him with your embrace.

"You don't have to ..."

"No, Jihoon. Listen to me. Please."

Your eyes were glossy now, and Jihoon felt bad at causing you any distress, so he signaled at you to continue.

"It's not- it isn't what you think. Yeah, I ... I did have a ... a thing with that guy. I know Hybe denied it being me, but you know- you know it's me. But it's not how it looks!"

"Then ... what is it?", he couldn't believe he was even letting himself ask that question, as if you had to explain yourself to him. But part of him really wanted to know. He wanted to somehow hear you say that it wasn't true, that you would never look at anyone but him.

"It's an old picture. He- he used to work for our group, as staff. We had a thing. It ended badly. Haven't really dated since then. This was before I met you, Jihoon, please, I need you to know that."

"You .. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why do you need me to know that?", he hoped against all hope that you'd answer with what he'd been wanting to hear since he met you, but he knew he was playing with the devil when asking you that. He knew there was a very logical chance that you'd just confirm your platonic feelings for him, or straight up reject him.

"You know, Jihoon. I know you know. I- I'd never do that to you. I'd never look at anyone but you."

"Do you-"

"Yes', you paused, 'I like you, Jihoon."

And then his heart stopped beating.

"So much. Since we met. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since the day we met. I like you so fucking much. I can't think of anything else. I thought it was just because I've always been a fan of yours, but ... being around you just made me feel so happy. I'm sorry I didn't tell you earlier. Fuck, I'm sorry I made you feel like there was someone else in the picture."

He didn't know what to say. You'd said everything he had wanted to hear for the past two months. You liked him. It wasn't one-sided. There was nothing stopping him from making you his now. Those feelings he thought had been fake for the portrayal of your song's concept had been genuine all along. He'd never felt such relief.

"Jihoon? Is it not ...? Fuck. Did I misread everything? Shit, I'm sorry. I should, uh, I should go-"

Fuck. No! He needed to reciprocate, he just had no idea how. He couldn't have you thinking he wasn't equally (if not more) obsessed with you. So he did the one thing he could think of in that moment. Something he had imagined time and time again, but never had the courage to do.

You yelped against him as he pulled his lips to yours, but immediately began kissing him back. There was nothing tender about the kiss as Jihoon would've expected. It was a complete mess from the start. The kiss was a testament to how badly you'd both wanted each other this whole time.

Jihoon felt lightheaded at the feeling of your tongue sneaking its way into his mouth, and the moans that accompanied it. He couldn't help but feel immediate arousal at your touch. He wasn't sure how to kiss you. He'd never shared such a passionate exchange before, but he wanted to give you everything in him with his kiss.

You only pulled away when you were out of breath, still keeping yourself as close to him as possible as you breathed into each other's mouths, your lips lightly closing over his as you regained your breath.

"Hoonie ..." the sound of your breathless voice muttering his name did shameful things to him. There was no way he could handle a conversation right now.

"Tell me- tell me you like me. I need to know. Please ..." the sheer lust and desperation in your voice were things that would never leave Jihoon's mind.

"So much. I li- I love you. You have no idea. Every day was agony not acting on it. I'm sorry if it's too much, but it's true. I've never felt this way before. I'm in love with you. The thought of you with someone else made me wanna give everything up. It's ... God, I just love you."

You didn't seem to need any more words before closing the gap again, this time backing him up against the nearest wall as you kissed him with all your might. You took full control of the kiss, grabbing his cheeks and angling him so you could play with his lips as you saw fit. He moaned and writhed against you, shyly attempting to hold onto your waist but not actually daring to. You must've caught wind of his intentions, grabbing onto his hands and forcing them on your waist, pressing your chest up against his. He began to caress your waist, falling in love with the slope of your back in the process. He was still shy with his movements, but his lips were nothing but. He adored your soft sighs against his lips any time his tongue would suckle on yours, or any time his teeth nibbled on your bottom lip.

You must've eventually grown tired of his shy demeanor, grabbing onto his arms and pining them above his head, beginning to softly grind against him as you began to lick and suck at his neck. Jihoon was on cloud nine. His body was unsure of how to react to such pleasure from someone he had already grown so addicted to.

"Hoonie ... want you so bad ... please," his knees buckled at your begging, your warm breath hitting against his ear as he groaned out at the thought of you in his bed.

He was simply a shell of himself at that point, so it had been your responsibility to drag the both of you in the direction he pointed his bedroom was at, but as soon as you were there, you pushed him to lay on the bed. He was ready for whatever you were willing to give him. He had no chance against you anyway.

"Hoonie, shit. Been wanting you for so long. Can I, please?", you'd begun to straddle him, leaning over him as you ghosted over his lips. He swore he wasn't going to make it, body heating up at the mere suggestion of you touching him.

"P-please ..."

You began kissing him again, running your hands up and down his torso, eventually landing on his crotch, softly caressing it as he whined into your mouth.

"Oh? Jihoonie ... You're so hard. Want me to help you?"

"Fuck ... Need you so bad, please ..."

"But we haven't even started to have fun," you moved your hand away, now sitting up a bit to begin grinding against his crotch, deep movements making his eyes roll back as his arms laid limp on his sides.

"Won't you touch me, Hoonie? Don't be shy. You already know how much I want you," you guided his hands to your hips, making him clamp his fingers on the clothed flesh while you moaned out at the feeling of his hard cock gracing your most delicate parts.

You were both beginning to heat up, which led you to throw your shirt off, now only in a bra and some sweats. He audibly moaned at the view, only causing you to play it up for him as you caressed your own covered breasts, "Want me to take my bra off, baby? Hmm?"

"Y-yes. Wanna see you so bad. You're so beautiful."

That was enough for you to wiggle your way out of your pants, throwing off your bra right after. The sight had his cock squirming under you. No amount of lonely nights thinking about you could have ever prepared him for the sight before him. Your soft skin shining under the soft light of the half drawn blinds. He wanted to memorize your body, leave his mark on every inch of it, but his arms would not move from your hips. He knew that the moment he got his hands on you he would finally face insanity. There was not a single detail he wasn't already obsessed with. He wanted you so badly, but he didn't know what to do with himself. His cock was extremely swollen under his sweats, begging to find comfort in any crevice of your body you would allow. The fleeting thought of fucking your pretty tits flew through his mind, making him shudder as he continued to pant at the beautiful girl sitting on him.

"Touch me?", you asked, already guiding his hands to your breasts, making him sit up to be face to face with you.

"Holy fuck ..." he moaned at the warmth of your breasts in his hands. He couldn't help himself in getting his fill of you, hands squeezing and running all over your chest. The moment he dared to pinch at your nipples he truly saw heaven, hearing you whine his name in the prettiest sound he'd ever heard.

"Hoo-Hoonie ... Please. Touch me more. Just like that," you let your head fall back, sighing at the soft touch of his fingers pinching at your nipples, "Your mouth, Hoonie ..."

That was all he needed to lower his head and begin licking at your nipples, biting lightly as he pulled at them, dick twitching desperately at the pretty sounds leaving your lips. He could've sworn he'd cum just from how beautiful you sounded. His ears were ringing by now, only able to process the feeling of your hand pressing his face against your chest and your hips suddenly restarting their movements against his own.

You let him make out with your tits for a bit before pulling him off, much to his dismay. You giggled at his reaction, but began to pout at him to get him to remove his top.

"Shit. God, Hoonie, you're so gorgeous," you breathed out upon seeing his bare chest, running your hands up and down the blank canvas. You let your own fingers pull and pinch at his nipples a bit, slow in your movements as he whined at you. He understood now, how fucking good such a light touch in such a sensitive area felt. He was beginning to lose all air in his brain, mind foggy as you gave him all types of pleasure.

He needed you now. Needed attention in his nether area so bad. He could feel how wet you were through his sweats, softly begging you to please let him have you. The whisper against your ear had you pulling your hands away from his chest, separating yourself enough to look into his eyes.

"Want you too. Can I have it, Hoonie? Fuck ... Will you judge me if I beg? I just ... Want you in my mouth so bad, Hoonie, please."

He felt embarrassed by his reaction, but he couldn't help but moan loudly at that simple sentence, nodding like crazy at the proposition. The last time he'd been in someone's mouth had been years ago. He had felt intimate touch before, but only a handful of times total. He was fully unprepared for what your mouth encompassing him would feel like.

Before he knew it, you had thrown off both his pants and boxers, enticing him to sit at the edge of the bed as you knelt in front of him. You were looking at his cock as if it were your last meal, eyes crossed and a moan leaving your mouth at the sight. He couldn't believe a gorgeous thing like yourself would ever show so much thirst for him. His soul left his body the moment you lowered your tongue onto his tip, kitten-licking at it as you looked up into his eyes. What truly made him lose his mind, however, was the moment you began to bob your head up and down his cock, with your hands playing and scratching at his balls. His hands clutched at the sheets, unable to hold himself in a sat up position due to the unimaginable pleasure. He was unsure how he didn't cum the moment you put your mouth on him (or the moment you kissed him, if he was being honest).

"So- fuck ... So fucking good. You're perfect. Please ..." he wasn't sure what he was begging for. The pleasure was clouding his mind. And then you did something that had him gasping for air. You unglued your mouth from gagging on his cock in favor of licking and sucking at his balls. His eyes rolled all the way back into his brain, back arching against the bed as you took turns licking his balls and worshiping his cock.

Unsurprisingly, he came in your mouth moments later, almost blacking out at the feeling. He was unable to catch his breath for a good minute, all the while you swallowed his seed and sat back on him. Before he was able to resume his breathing, you had already shoved your tongue back in his mouth, making him whine at the mixture of your saliva and his cum twirling in your tongue. He couldn't help his hands running all over your body, hugging and squeezing at every curve he could reach.

"Baby, I-"

"Taste so good, Hoonie, fuck. You have no idea how much I thought about that. Every time you wore those tiny little shorts to dance practice all I wanted to do was kick everyone out and beg you to fuck my mouth."

Jesus Christ. He hated how outspoken you were sometimes. He felt himself begin to harden again at just the simple thought of you wanting him as much as he did you (even though he was 99% sure that was impossible). He felt bad, but he was a bit sad he had cum in your mouth. He had thought of the feeling of your cunt wrapping around him almost every night for the past month. He knew he'd get it sooner or later, but a sinister part of his brain was begging him to flip you around and go to town on you. He might've been inexperienced, but he knew that his body would take him there if he needed it.

"W-wanna ..."

"Hmm? Yeah, baby?", you softly caressed his cheek, looking at him with so much love in your eyes.

"Please ..." he couldn't bring himself to say it. He felt too ashamed at asking for even more out of you when he'd already made you do all the work to confess and even made him have the best orgasm of his life.

"Yeah, Hoonie? Want me? Want you too. You have no idea ..." he thanked god the moment you started grinding against his bare dick yet again, leaning down to lick at his lips, "Can I ride you, baby? Please ... Been dreaming about it."

All he could do was whine and nod as his hands squeezed at your ass, trying to entice you into lifting your hips so you could finally sit on his now hardened dick.

No words left his mouth as you finally lowered on him, all his focus on the pretty expression on your face as you moaned out at the feeling of being impaled by him. His back arched, head digging back into the mattress at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him. He felt your back arch too as you leaned down to kiss him, mouths open as you whined and mewled at each other.

You began humping him with no proper rhythm, causing him to thrust upwards to meet your own grinds. He was so desperate for you. Nothing compared to how good he felt in that moment. Your body was drawing all types of pleasure out of him.

"F-feel so good. Hoonie ... You're so- Ah! So fucking good for me."

"Me? You ... Shit. Never felt this good. You're perfect," you tightened at his words, making him plant his feet on the bed and begin to frantically fuck upwards, leading you to scream and whine his name for all his neighbors to hear.

"Love you so much- Fuck! Been wanting you forever. Didn't know how hard I'd fall for you that day, shit. You're everything to me," he couldn't help himself in rambling yet another confession in your ear as you attempted to match the animalistic pace of his thrusts.

"Love you too, Hoonie. You have n-no idea. Never letting you go. You- you're mine now," and yours he wanted to be forever.

Jihoon had never imagined he'd feel love like this as long as he was alive. He had lost hope in finding the perfect girl many years ago, assuming his lifestyle to be too difficult for him to find someone to love him so strongly, but now he had you. Now he had you in his arms as you professed your love for one another. He had never felt such happiness. His ability to think left him soon after, however, as you clamped down on him with yet another scream of his name as you found your end, taking him with you in his own.

After the two minutes or so that it took you to regain your breaths, you managed to cuddle up against each other, unable to stop caressing each other in one way or another. The smiles wouldn't leave your faces. Jihoon couldn't help but think of his life; how he had everything a man could ever want, and now he had you on top of all that, and you'd quickly become his favorite thing. You spent the rest of the day in his bed, making love and waxing poetic at one another. You completely disregarded any collab preparations for the day, opting instead to finally give into each other to the fullest extent.

Soon after, all promotions finally ended. You and Jihoon received equal accolades on your ability to mix both your styles, achieving a successful collaboration between two monster producers. The praise over being all rounders was also endless, as people commended you both for the production, vocals, dance, visuals and chemistry demonstrated all throughout the promotional period.

People noticed how comfortable you were around each other, despite having never publicly interacted before the release date of the single. People believed it was simply amazing work ethic being showcased by the two of you, but what didn't meet the public eye was the genuine love and enjoyment behind every interaction. The two of you had made it a point to begin appearing publicly together often from then on (strictly as friends to anyone who asked, of course), which allowed you to hide your relationship in plain sight.

Jihoon had never been happier, now having you as yet another companion to visit him at his Universe Factory any time he would lock himself in there to work, a habit that began to diminish as he grew more and more addicted to your company outside the confinement of those four walls.

Today was yet another one of those occasions, as you were sharing yet another meal together at the Hybe cafeteria. Staff was mostly unaware of the nature of your relationship, but you two liked it that way.

"Hey," you called out to him as you played around with his phone.

"Hmm?"

"Did you see this email from Bumzu?", he shook his head in denial, "He said Hybe's requesting your help producing for Gyu's collab with Jungkook. Cause of how well ours did."

"Yeah?", he chuckled, "Gonna have to talk to him. Not doing it without you."

"Oh, really?", you grinned at him, "Wanna team up again?", you leaned closer to him, but not too close to draw suspicion from the few other idols and staff around who were eating there.

"Mhm. You did most of the work. Couldn't've done it without you."

He knew that to be completely true, as he would've remained in his slump had you not come out of left field to make his life do a 180.

"Wanna team up with you for the rest of my life."

You smiled at him. He could see in your eyes you wanted to show some sort of affection towards him, but could not due to the public setting. All it took was one look between you for him to know you felt the same. You held his hand under the table, going back to conversation about your next possible collaboration together with your other labelmates, happy to have found a soulmate in one another.

a/n: idk how other writers are putting out 20k+ words monsters jesus christ. anyways i rlly hope u enjoyed <33 this concept had been plaguing my mind for a while so im rlly happy to have finally finished it!!

"um... i didn't like her bouquet", vernon comments, eating some more popcorn.

"why not?"

"at the very begin of the movie she says how much he likes sunflowers, so why is their wedding all decorated with red roses?"

vernon shakes his head like it was such an obvious thing to notice. it always blew your mind how attentive he could be not only to movies, but people in general.

"i mean... if we were to get married, i just know that you should have a bouquet of white tulips."

"no, i shouldn't", it was your time to shake your head.

"why not? they're your favorite!", vernon looks back at you, a little part of him scared that he might have get it wrong.

"yeah, but your allergies...", you shrug. "if we ever get married, we're either having plastic flowers or no flowers at all."

at the corner of your eye, you catch how fondly vernon smiles at you. at that very moment, it wasn't a matter of "if" you'd ever get married, but "when".

night out

how your boyfriend shows his love for you when he’s under the influence

contains: alcohol consumption, gn!reader, sweet lovely tooth rottingly sweet seungcheol

whenever seungcheol wanted to go drinking you almost always accompanied him.

he was a clingy and affectionate drunk, so even if you weren’t with him you’d still feel his affection from the 20 calls and 50 text messages that he’d send you.

today, he needed to celebrate an achievement with a few friends and, of course, you accompanied them.

the night was winding down and you could tell seungcheol was way out of his tipsy range and much further into his nearly incapacitated range.

he had his head on your shoulder while you had an arm around his shoulder, slowly rubbing his arm while you talked to his friends across the table.

you noticed him fumbling for his phone and you looked down at him quizzically.

“what’re you doing, cheol?” you asked gently, while he pulled up his text messages.

“i need to text my partner…” he mumbled, “need to tell them how much i love them…” he said quietly, tapping on his keyboard and sending nearly incoherent texts to you.

you just played along with it for the time being, knowing that sooner or later he’d realize you weren’t responding and that you’re right there.

[cheolie] 2:02am: kiss yu so much

2:02am: babyyyyyy i lovd u

2:02am: you aee rhe lifht of my life

2:03am: why ru not repsodning to me?????

2:04am: are uu mad at me :((((

your phone consistently buzzed with notifications and you couldn’t help but smile at the texts that came from your boyfriend.

“guys… i think y/n is mad at me,” seungcheol finally said, slowly but surely sitting up and bringing his head off your shoulder.

your friends from across the table just looked between the two of you and laughed.

“what makes you think that?” you asked curiously, putting a hand on his thigh.

seungcheol just gasped at your contact on him and quickly pushed himself the furthest he could get away from you. “what are you doing! i have a partner! only they get to touch me!” he nearly shouted, pressing himself against the wall as if he could materialize into it.

once again, you all laughed at his antics. he, on the other hand, seemed utterly disgusted at the thought of someone who wasn’t you being near him. he squeezed his eyes shut and refused to look at you.

“cheol, baby, look at me,” you cooed gently, scooting over to him and trying to get him to face you.

“no! only my partner gets to call me that! can’t look at anyone else, don’t want to.” he said firmly, turning his chin up like an upset toddler.

when you realized this was going to take a little longer than usual you looked over at your friends with a smile and motioned that they could leave. “don’t worry we’ll pay,” you reminded them, knowing that seungcheol always wanted to be the one to pay anyways.

after they left it was just you and seungcheol at the table, him still refusing to look at you.

you decided to use your only option and pulled out your phone to text him.

[you] 2:17am: i’m not mad baby

2:17am: can you please look at the person sitting next to you?

when his phone buzzed with your notification he gasped and quickly pulled it out to check, a frown on his face when he read your last message.

[cheolie] 2:17am: but it’s not u :(

2:17am: only wanna look at you

his texts made your heart warm, but you still had a mission to accomplish.

[you] 2:17am: just look baby i promise it’ll be okay

at your coaxing message he finally put his phone down and slowly looked over at you. the gears were shifting in his head as he took in your face, slowly recognizing you.

“y/n!” he exclaimed, finally leaving his place against the wall and scooting right up against you, throwing his arms around your waist and nuzzling into your neck. “i didn’t know you were here! someone was trying to touch me and i told them no! i only have eyes for you.” he said sweetly, looking up at you with big glassy eyes and a sweet pout, waiting for your praise.

you just laughed at his antics and brought a hand to his hair to smooth it down. “i’m glad, baby, are you ready to go home?” you asked, noticing how his eyes were already shutting as he found his comfy spot in the crook of your neck.

“‘m ready, wanna go to sleep,” he said with a yawn, an iron grip around your waist as his voice got slower, signifying that he was close to sleep.

“let’s go then,” you said, tapping his shoulder as to make him get up, but he wouldn’t budge, “seungcheol, you big baby, you’re going to have to walk yourself,” you teased, poking his side and trying to shove him a bit so he sat upright.

“don’t wanna,” he said stubbornly, leaning even further into you as you tried to get him up.

you sighed and shook your head, “we can’t stay here all night, don’t you want to sleep in our nice bed?” you tried to coax again, you both knew he would be much comfier at home.

“fine.” he said with a huff, knowing you got him there.

he slowly unwrapped himself from you and stood up, swaying a bit as he tried to steady himself. you, on the other hand, came up next to him and grabbed one of his arms to sling over your shoulder, hoping you could provide some type of balance to his walking.

as you exited the restaurant you quickly paid at the front with seungcheol’s card and made your way to the car, dumping him in the front seat and fastening his seatbelt for him.

before you could close the door he held up a hand and motioned for you to come closer to him. you decided to entertain him and moved closer. when you were only inches from his face he decided it was enough and looked at you with love struck eyes, surveying every inch of your face.

“can’t believe you’re mine, you’re so perfect,” he mumbled, pecking your lips quickly with a little giggle.

this made your cheeks heat up just a little bit and you shook your head. “you’re sappy when you’re drunk, huh?” you teased, leaning down and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“it’s because i loooove you,” he said honestly, anyone would be able to tell that from how he was looking at you, as if you hung the moon and the stars.

you held up your finger to have him give you a moment and you shut his door, quickly rounding the car and slipping into the drivers seat. once you had fastened your seatbelt and started the car you looked back over at him.

“i love you too,” you whispered, but he was already fast asleep.

—

bonus:

the next morning seungcheol woke up with a pounding headache and threw the covers over his head to hide from the rays of light seeping through your curtains.

“morning, sunshine,” you teased, rolling over and making yourself comfortable next to him since you’d been awake for some time.

“morning, baby, my head hurts like hell…” he groaned, voice thick with sleep.

you pointed to the nightstand nearest to him that had a glass of water and pain relievers on it.

“you’re a godsend,” he said honestly, quickly downing the pills and water before settling back into bed next to you.

“fun night?” you asked with a little laugh, not quite sure how much he remembered of anything.

“mhm…” he trailed off, playing with your hair absentmindedly, “i didn’t do anything embarrassing, right?” he asked, knowing that when he couldn’t remember the night he usually did something unusual.

“well, you forgot who i was and wouldn’t even look at me until i texted you and said it was okay.” you explained with a laugh.

seungcheol looked at you with wide eyes and buried his head into a pillow.

“i’m never drinking again.”

Everyone thinks Vernon is always at your place because you feed him. While you can agree it's mostly true, there might be more to it than meets the eye.

content: fluff, f2l, mentions of food

wc: 1.6k

notes: me taking a stab at writing lol. i also don't know how tumblr works. inspired by the fact that this man will eat everything in sight regardless if its someone else's food or not. i'd love to cook for him someday ❤

6pm on the dot. You don't even have to check to know who it is.

"Hey, Sol." You look up from the pot you've been stirring to greet your visitor who let himself in. Your apartment's passcode was practically muscle memory at this point.

"Hey, smells good in here," he comments while taking off his shoes, "I mean — it always does but you get it." You give him a little chuckle in response.

You hadn't been friends with Hansol for very long, but when a mutual friend decided to introduce you two to each other, you instantly hit it off. The whirlwind of a friend group you now shared was filled with strong personalities and quirks: Seungcheol was the self-proclaimed "dad" of the group but you'd swear he would whine and complained more than the rest of them combined. Seungkwan, the one who always had a sassy quip to share, but would be the first to cry at Disney movie nights. There was Jihoon, who showed his love exclusively with acts of service but is so tsundere he would rather die to admit he had any kind of emotions besides annoyance. Not to mention Soonyoung, who made it his mission to convince everyone that he was a tiger. No one knew how this bit started but everyone finds it entertaining nonetheless.

Amongst them all, Hansol was just a dude. A normal guy. As funny as it sounds, that's what made you two click so well. Not that he didn't have his own aspirations (and his own fair share of quirks!), but he had always been the sort of person that was along for the ride. Although a little bit clueless at times, you could tell his heart was in the right place.

"I brought dessert, by the way," He plops a plastic bag onto the kitchen counter, his cheekbones pushed all the way out in a smug grin, "hope you like it."

"Aww, Sol you didn't have to!" delight in your eyes as you wipe your freshly washed but still wet hands on your pants and scurry over to peek inside the bag. "Oh my god, this is that tiramisu from that bougie place, isn't it?! I heard the wait times were, like, over an hour. You're insane for this, thank you so much!" You're practically beaming as you put the dessert in refrigerator, promptly turning around to give him a hug. His hands automatically reach around your back as you bury your face into his chest. Man, he will never get tired of the way you smile at him over the smallest things.

"You're always feeding me, so it's like, the least I can do really" he murmurs as you let go, his own smile spreading across his face when you look up at him.

Right. Your relationship with Hansol was rooted in the fact that you both loved food. Cooking food in your case, and eating it for him. It was a match made in heaven, really. In the beginning stages of your friendship, you always noticed how he would always ask for bites of other peoples' food, the way he would eye a bag of snacks if anyone dared to bring them out, the "you gonna finish that..?" that would inevitably follow the conclusion of every meal. The guy was a human trash can with a black hole in place of his stomach. So really, was anyone surprised when Hansol practically attached himself to you that day you brought in those homemade baked goods for the friend group?

After that day, the rest was history. His insatiable hunger and the lack of his own cooking skills (poor dude would be consuming toast everyday if he didn't eat out) made him worship the ground you walked on whenever you fed him. In turn, his enthusiasm for your cooking and willingness to give honest feedback on your experimental recipes made him a regular guest at your apartment, much like today.

Hansol would be lying if he said he didn't feel like he was taking advantage of you sometimes, no matter how much you insisted that it wasn't the case. He always tried his best to chip in for your groceries or pick up ingredients when you didn't have time. He didn't even mind the way his friends teased him for being at your place more often than his own or the fact that you gained your own nickname among the guys as his personal chef. He was happy with your little arrangement, and it also helped that you were so easy to be around.

"Hey, can you help me set the table?" you say as you push a stack of plates and tableware toward him. Your attention is quickly pulled away again as you go to plate the food you've been laboring over the past hour.

The routine is a familiar one: sitting down across from each other with a wide array of dishes and sides in between. You always make him take the first bites; "I already taste tested everything as I was cooking, silly!" you would say, eyes focused and hands tucked under your chin eagerly awaiting his reactions and thoughts.

Today's meal was a hit, as it usually is. Hansol could count less than a handful of times that he didn't love your food, and even then he still ate everything despite you telling him that it was okay if he didn't finish it.

The next part of the routine, however, rivals even the food in his eyes. Both of you are glued to the chairs chatting away, even when all the food is long gone and empty plates remain on the table. Between you two, there was always something to talk about. Tangents turn to into more tangents turn into "remember when we…" turn into "we should totally do…" Hours can pass by before one of you even remembers that there was dessert in the fridge, and even more hours before either of you get up again to go wash the dishes. When that happens, you simply carry the conversation to the kitchen except this time with the gentle running of sink as background noise.

You were like a breath of fresh air from the chaos of his main friend group and someone he felt entirely comfortable with. Except lately he's been wanting to see you more and more. He would catch himself staring at his phone hoping a text from you would pop up, asking him to come over again.

He's embarrassed to admit that you have never hung out one-on-one outside of the walls of your apartment. It was an unspoken boundary that you two saw each other under the pretense of food, a boundary that he increasingly would like to cross.

You're not even looking at him, attention focused on scrubbing away at the pot in your hand, still talking about that awkward encounter with your neighbor yesterday. But the longer he stares at you, Hansol thinks to himself — have you always been this pretty? He traces every part of your form, from the micro expressions you make with your eyebrows as you talk, to noticing the little strands of hair by your face that escaped the ponytail you put it in, and the way your left sleeve is slowly slipping down your arm and in danger of getting soaked.

"...so screw me if I thought that it was none of his busine— Sol...?"

Before he even knew what he was doing he found himself abandoning his plate drying duty and sliding behind you at the sink, your back pressed against his chest as he grabbed your sleeve and gingerly rolled it up your arm once again. Just as he thinks you can't get any more gorgeous, his world stops when you turn your head around and he finds your face inches from his. The way your eyes glisten into his own makes the split second feel like an eternity before pulling away.

"S-sorry if I scared you, just didn't want your sleeve to get wet." adding a nervous chuckle to the end as he returns to the stack of tableware he has yet to dry.

"N-no! It's okay! Thank you for that!" you stammer back, trying not to look him in the eyes to hide the very obvious blush that spread on your cheeks. "Ahaha... yeah so anyways, what was I saying again?" Without missing a beat, he replies "you were talking about how your nosy neighbor thinks we're dating because I come over so often."

"Oh, haha, right..." your voice is barely above a whisper, a chuckle dies in your throat as you realize you've been scrubbing an already clean pot for 5 minutes now. You sigh as you turn off the water and start drying off your hands to put the dishes back in their places.

"I don't mind," he says after a thoughtful pause. It takes a second for you to register the words. "Sorry, what?"

"I don't mind if he thinks we're dating."

You feel like the hearing comprehension part of your brain just reset. "Wait, wha-"

"I think it would be kinda nice actually... if we dated."

After a second too long of silence from you, he was the one with panic with his eyes this time. "B-but only if you want to! Shit, uh, sorry I really didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or anything. Just forget I said anyth-"

He's interrupted by your arms snaking around his neck. "You're hopeless, Sol", you say as you press a light kiss to his lips. "I think it would be nice if we dated, too."

Something In The Midnight Hours

Rating: T | WC: ~ 4.0k | Pairing: Lee Chan x F!Reader | Genre: besties to lovers, fake relationship, rom com, fluff

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend at my New Year’s Eve work party.”

“There better be an open bar. And I’m not kissing you at midnight.”

“Deal.”

Warnings: alcohol use, swearing, kissing

Lee Chan is fucked. 

That’s the only way to describe his current situation. He’s fucked.

Royally, epically, astronomically. 

All because of one offhand comment he made six months ago about you being his girlfriend, back when he was still trying to fit into the company. 

Now here he is on his couch, staring at the email invite to the New Year’s Eve party and trying not to freak out, his eyes glued to the subject line. 

BRING HER OR YOU’RE FIRED (JK (OR ARE WE))

He sets his phone down on the coffee table and covers his face with his hands, his palms pressing into his eyes to stave off the growing headache as he goes over options in his head. 

1. He says you broke up.

This is obviously the worst option, both because the thought of you not being around makes him tear up and because then he’d have to stop talking about you, which is virtually impossible for him.

2. He goes and doesn’t bring you. 

This is the second worst option as it would open him up to relentless teasing and might also result in his expulsion from the company, neither of which he would like to happen. 

3. He begs you to pretend to be his girlfriend and you go together.

This is the craziest option, but it’s also the most viable. Sure, you’ve been best friends since you were kids, and sure, he’s almost certain you’re not into him like that, and sure, you’re a terrible liar, but all of that can be overcome! Right? 

“I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend at my New Year’s Eve work party.”

You stare at him blankly, your face unreadable for once, as he explains the situation. You haven’t stopped him at all and it’s like he can’t stop talking, the words just flowing out of him like water through a strainer. 

“Everyone had a partner, literally everyone, and I was as single as could be, so when Wonwoo asked who my lockscreen was, I might have said you were my girlfriend. And I might have updated my desktop to be a picture of us together at that carnival last year. And I might have continued to lie about it every day since.”

You nod slowly, your eyes narrowed at him in skepticism, before tilting your head and saying, “And telling the truth is out of the question because…?”

“Because they would roast me alive,” he scream-whispers dramatically, imploring you with his eyes to understand his plight. 

“They would, wouldn’t they?” You murmur pensively, fully knowledgeable of how often he’s under fire just for being the youngest in the office. 

He nods emphatically, latching onto your kind, protective side and hoping it’ll carry him through this. 

“They would be so mean to me, Y/n. Please don’t let that happen,” he hates being manipulative but at least he knows you can see right through it, your years of friendship making you familiar with all his tricks. 

“Ugh! Fine!” You throw your hands up and roll your eyes, stifling your smile when he hollers in grateful joy and tugs you into his arms. 

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“There better be an open bar. And I’m not kissing you at midnight.”

“Deal.”

It hits him when the uber is on the way to the hotel, what he’s gotten himself (and you) into. Not only is this the first merging of his work life and social life, but you and him will have to pretend to be a couple until the party is over. 

You’ll probably have to hold hands and smile at each other lovingly and, fuck, you’ll have to disappear before midnight because you already said he can’t kiss you and it’ll be suspicious as all hell if he doesn’t lay one on you when the ball drops. Even worse, you’re barely even affectionate as best friends - you don’t cuddle, you don’t hug, you even sit at opposite ends of the couch for movie night. 

He doesn’t know why, all he knows is that it’s been this way since you first met. The most you ever touch him is to ruffle then fix his hair, or pat him on the back when he’s sad, or pinch his cheek and call him a baby even though you’re only seven months older than him. It’ll be awkward to have so much physical contact with you, to interact with you like a boyfriend does. 

He’s a little… excited, though. It’s exciting to think about all of the guys finally meeting you after six months of him telling story after story. It’s exciting to go to his first ever corporate party, and to have you experience it with him. It’s exciting to think about how the two of you will take full advantage of the open bar and likely giggle yourselves to death in some closet as the clock strikes midnight. 

He can’t tell how you’re feeling beyond knowing you’re nervous. You keep playing with the hem of your dress, and you’ve been looking out the window this whole time, and you haven’t talked much since you got in the car, though he’s made multiple attempts to draw you into a conversation. He decides to make one more, hoping that he can distract you and help you relax before the car pulls up to the hotel. 

“I really like this dress on you. I don’t think I’ve seen it before, is it new?”

You turn to him, your lips quirking in a smile as you smooth your hands over the champagne silk. 

“It is! it’s been a while since I got something nice so I decided to splurge for the party.”

“You bought it for this?” He asks almost incredulously, endeared and grateful you wanted to put so much effort in. You don’t often buy new things as you’re saving up to put a down payment on a house, and before the night is over, he swears he’ll find out how much it costs and send you the full amount. 

“Yeah? I wanted to look nice to meet all your colleagues,” you respond quietly, shrinking under your seatbelt as if you’re self conscious. 

“And you do! You look beautiful,” he scrambles to dispel your anxiety, kicking himself for accidentally bringing attention to something you’re seemingly shy about. You smile brightly and straighten up, replying, “You look good too, I don’t remember this suit.”

“It’s a rental,” he confesses. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“So I can’t go up to one of your coworkers and say, ‘Hi, I’m Chan’s girlfriend, his suit is rented’? Darn.”

He’s too focused on you saying you’re his girlfriend to hear anything else, an unfamiliar fluttering starting up in his belly as he replays the words in his head. He hates to admit it, but he kind of likes the sound of them coming out of your mouth. 

He gathers himself enough to respond, “You can say the first part but not the second.”

“Ahhh, so just, ‘Hi, I’m Chan’s girlfriend,’ then?” You quip back, grinning at him teasingly and reaching up to pinch his cheek. His hand catches yours before you get that far, and while he’d normally let go, he decides to keep holding on, tangling your fingers together and bringing your hand up to press a kiss to the back. 

“What’s that for?” You ask shakily, your eyes darting between his face and your entwined hands. 

“Practice,” he says innocently, fully aware that he’s freaking you out and loving it. 

The uber pulls up to the hotel before you can answer, and Chan thanks them before rushing to get out of the car and running around it to open your door and offer you his arm. You climb out as gracefully as you can, a bit unsteady in your heels and clinging to him for stability as you cross through the sliding glass doors into the lobby. 

It’s decorated for the holidays, warm string lights and fresh evergreen covering nearly every surface, and the sight of you spinning in a slow circle to take it all in makes his heart feel too big for his chest. The party is being held in one of the ballrooms, the fanciest one, he was told, and he can’t wait to see your face when you set eyes on the opulence of it all. 

He needs to find it first, and he exhales a sigh of relief when he spots his company’s name printed on signs leading into a grand hallway. He points so you see them too, leading you over and consciously slowing his steps so you don’t have to work to keep up with him. 

You’re letting out oohs and ahhs as you walk, your eyes catching on every shiny statue and gilded candelabra occupying the hall. Chan can’t hold back the grin, he’s always loved to see how you appreciate your surroundings, and he’s so happy he gets to watch you experience this beautiful place. 

The signs lead to a palatial set of doors, the party in full swing and audible behind them, and he stops you before you can reach for one, pulling you to the side and setting his hands on your shoulders. 

“Listen, I know you’re not good at lying, but I don’t want you to be stressed tonight, so just follow my lead and don’t worry too much, okay?” He says in his most reassuring tone of voice, gazing into your eyes and waiting for you to square your shoulders and say, “Okay. And I’m great at lying.”

Literally everything betrays you, the expression on your face, your tense body, the way you’re suddenly avoiding his eyes. 

“Sure, baby. Sure,” he agrees amicably, nodding and taking hold of your hand again. 

He’s never called you that before, only ever refers to you by your name or stinky (you are the greatest smelling person he knows and you’re both aware of that fact), but for a first test, he thinks it goes well. 

Your hand squeezes his, your eyes get brighter, and the corner of your mouth scrunches up in a small, pleased smile. All signs point to you being not only alright with the pet name, but maybe even happy with it, and if he's being honest, for him it felt… easy. Right. 

On that note, he tugs open the door with his free hand and follows you inside. You both stop short, stunned by the magnificence of the ballroom and the amount of faces that greet you. Chan knew he worked at a big company but there’s at least two hundred people here, and only a few that he recognizes. 

They find you quickly, apparently watching the doors for your entrance and agreeing to immediately converge upon you before you can even grab a glass of Dom Perignon. It’s scary, almost, the sight of the twelve friends he’s made so far weaving through the crowd to reach you. 

There’s nowhere to go, to run, to hide. He has no choice but to stand his ground and allow this to happen to him. 

He glances over at you and feels some tension leave his body, knowing that no matter what, you’re here for him and you always will be. That’s what gets him through the next half hour, plus the champagne Jeonghan so considerately brought over. He makes introductions, laughs off the comments about how long it took him to finally bring you to a function, and bites the inside of his lip every time you have to answer a question. 

You manage to tell the truth most of the time. Many of the questions are about you, who you are and what you do and, from Seungkwan, why you’re with Chan. You don’t have to lie until that last one, but he’s impressed by how quickly and smoothly you manage to answer. 

It still makes him grin, thinking about what you said. 

“Because he’s made me happy and taken care of me all my life. It just makes sense.” 

They all softened at your response, and the conversation naturally deviated to their own partners, a few of which are in attendance tonight. He’s not sure why they’re not with his coworkers but he can’t complain about having less people to keep up with. It’s hard enough tracking a conversation between fourteen. 

Eventually, everyone splits off into groups. You and Chan make your way to the bar with Soonyoung, Jun, and Minghao, the rest of his friends disappearing back into the well dressed masses. You’ve both finished your champagne and are ready for a real drink, and it’s shockingly easy to order them even with how crowded the bar is. Even Minghao is drinking tonight, likely because he doesn’t love crowds or parties, but regardless of the reason, he’s more happy and giggly and kind than normal and Chan is entirely delighted he gets to see him like this. 

Jun and Soonyoung are already deep in their cups, and knowing them, they likely pregamed at the apartment they share, forgetting that drinks would be free all night. He just hopes they don’t embarrass themselves, and vows to himself that he’ll make sure they get cut off if they get too crazy. They did the same for him the first night he ever went out with his officemates, when he had a few too many and found himself troublesomely drunk, and he’ll return the favor if need be. 

You seem to fit right in, your humor similar enough to theirs that you have them cracking up at every turn, and it’s not long before they’re begging you to spill all of Chan’s most embarrassing secrets. They seem nearly giddy with the prospect and you seem primed to share, and all he can do is tug you away, shouting, “See you later, we have to go!” over his shoulder as he makes his escape. 

You and Chan finally get to take a breather on the balcony. The chilly night air stings but the view is gorgeous, the city lit up in reds and greens and bright, warm whites, the countdown displayed on a skyscraper across the way. There’s an hour and a half left till midnight, and Chan is starting to wonder if there even is an accessible closet in this hotel for you to hide in when the time comes. 

Maybe you could sneak away to the bathroom, but you wouldn’t be together then and Chan wants to enter the new year with you by his side. There’s always the option of leaving before the ball drops, but everyone would wonder why and they might even be disappointed in him, which he’d like to prevent if possible. 

The consternation must be clear on his face because you reach up to smooth away the wrinkle between his eyebrows and ask gently, “What’s wrong?”

He sighs and takes your hand, swinging it softly and playing with your fingers as he says, “I’m trying to figure out what we should do at midnight.”

“What do you mean?” You sound confused, as if you think there’s nothing to figure out. 

“Well, you said I can't kiss you but it would be suspicious if we didn’t, so I’m trying to think of where we could go to get out of it.”

“Oh, about that, I’ve been thinking-”

“So this is where you snuck off to,” Seungkwan calls from the doorway, with a mischievous smile on his face and Vernon in tow. 

“Just needed some fresh air,” Chan pastes on a smile but internally he’s screaming, raging at them for interrupting you when he thinks you might have been about to say something important. 

Of course, everything you say is important to him, but if he’s following the vein of logic, it’s possible you were going to say he can, in fact, kiss you at midnight, which would honestly rock his world. Both in the life-altering sense and in the wow this is so amazing sense, because, he has to admit, he can’t stop thinking about it. 

When you take a sip of champagne, he’s watching your lips pucker around the edge of the flute. When you’re speaking, he’s thinking about tasting your words. Even when you’re not doing anything, his thoughts are occupied with what it might be like to feel your lips pressed against his and your body in his arms (and don’t get him started about your body, especially in this dress).

He knows that’s not something normal best friends think about, but you’ve always been more than a best friend to him. You’re everything to him, and he’s beginning to think you might even be it for him. You fill so many roles in his life: friend, confidante, protector. Why couldn’t you pick up one more?

It could all be so simple, so neat, and all of those well-meaning but embarrassing inquiries about when you two would finally get together could finally be answered. He thinks the transition would be easy, you seem to have no qualms touching him and being affectionate now, and he’s definitely finding it easy to reciprocate. 

Fuck, but he has no clue how you feel. You’re chatting with Seungkwan while Vernon nods and laughs at the appropriate moments, and he’s thankful you noticed he was elsewhere mentally and took over the conversation. He doesn’t want to seem too deep in thought, but it’s difficult not to be when he’s having the startling realization that he doesn’t want this relationship to be fake, that he actually wants to date his best friend. 

Shit, it’s an hour and fifteen minutes now, and Chan’s no closer to knowing what to do. He might even be further away, might be even more confused with the added layer of knowing he absolutely wants to kiss you. 

Vernon and Seungkwan excuse themselves to grab more champagne and he takes the opportunity to pull you to one of the darker corners of the balcony lest his other coworkers discover your location. He needs to talk about this with you, now. 

It’s just not normal or right for him to hide things from you, the biggest thing he’s actually ever kept being that he told his office you were his girlfriend. He’s not positive he’s ready to lay it all out though, especially when he’s not sure where you’re at. 

“What were you going to say before?” He asks urgently, taking hold of your other hand and holding both of them tight. 

“Ummm, I don’t remember,” you lie, so very obviously, and this time he’s not going to let you get away with it. 

“Yes, you do. Please tell me, I need to know.”

You squint at him in scrutiny, your mouth bunching to the side, and let out a big breath before speaking. 

“I was going to say that I’ve been thinking about it a lot and… I think you should kiss me at midnight,” you say, looking away from him and smoothing out imaginary wrinkles in your dress. 

“A lot, you say?” He jokes, only because he knows it’ll make you feel annoyed instead of nervous. 

Predictably, you roll your eyes and scoff, “Of course that’s what you focus on.”

He lets out an easy laugh, tugging you closer with his grip on your hands and leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek. 

“What was that for?” 

“Practice.”

His lips touch your other cheek softly. He can feel it heat up and breaks into a fond smile, his hands squeezing yours as you breathe, “And that?”

“More practice. And maybe I couldn’t wait until midnight to kiss you at least a little.”

Your eyes dart to his and he catches a flash of vulnerability before you grin it away and glance over your shoulder to check the time. 

“Just forty five more minutes. Do you think you can make it?” You tease, and he feels his own cheeks flush as he realizes that you’re flirting with him. He likes it. Very much. 

He grimaces, sucking in a breath through his teeth and shaking his head, “I don’t know, baby. I really don’t know.”

You just smile and push at his chest with your joint hands before asking, “Should we get some champagne?”

He’s barely tipsy, and he can tell you’re only a little buzzed, so he nods and lets you go, only to offer you his arm. He escorts you to the table of glasses, taking one and offering it to you before grabbing one for himself. You hold your glass up and he clinks it with his, taking a sip and looking around the room. 

He spots some of his friends but they’re all engaged in conversations, which is fine with Chan, honestly. He’s enjoying this time with you, and he’s not ready to share again. 

You pass the next half hour warming up and people watching, waving to his friends when they spot you and narrowly escaping before they start to make their way over. He feels a little bad about avoiding them, but he doubts you want to kiss him for the first time in front of everyone. He needs to find somewhere with a little privacy, looking around for a corner or… 

Or the giant ass column behind you. It’s perfect, still in the ballroom but secluded enough it’ll almost be like it’s just the two of you. He takes your hand again and gently pulls you over, situating you so your back is to the stone just as the ballroom starts to spark with energy. It’s only a few minutes to midnight now, and Chan can already feel his heart racing just at the thought of what that means. 

You seem similarly affected, your lip bitten in nervousness but your eyes full of anticipation. He takes a step into your space and lifts his hand to cup your cheek, murmuring, “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nod, tilting your face into his hand and covering it with yours. A hush comes over the ballroom before the counting begins, and you join in unison as he starts leaning in, “Five, four, three, two, one.”

One is whispered against your lips, his eyes fluttering closed as he presses his mouth to yours. You taste like champagne and lip gloss and possibilities, and even though other kisses end and cheers erupt, Chan can’t make himself stop kissing you. 

Eventually, it starts to veer into indecent territory, with wandering hands and seeking tongues and sounds not fit for public consumption. He forces himself to pull away, smirking slightly at the way you try to follow him before your eyes blink open. There’s a bright glint to them, and before he knows it, you’re both falling into each other and struggling to contain your giggles.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” you whisper through your smile.

“Me neither,” he laughs. “Our moms will be so happy.”

“I bet our dads placed bets,” you murmur, winding your arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug. “Happy New Year, Chan.”

He lets go of your cheek to hug you back, his hand still wrapped up tightly in yours. 

“Happy New Year, Y/n.” 

You’re dozing against Chan in the uber when his phone buzzes in his suit pocket. He opens it to find a message from Wonwoo, one containing three pictures that make Chan’s heart beat so hard he’s scared it’ll wake you up. 

The first is just before he kissed you; you’re staring at him with brand new eyes, and he’s gazing at you with obvious infatuation. 

The second must be just after midnight, he’s still kissing you but he’s got a hand dangerously low on your back and you’ve got one in his hair. 

The third is when you both collapsed into laughter, and he smiles at the joyful tears in your eyes and matching beaming grins before making it his lockscreen.

He’s not sure why Wonwoo was taking pictures of him instead of kissing his wife, but he’s forever grateful, and he tells Wonwoo just that. These are photographs he’ll treasure for the rest of his life, because they document the start of something great, something real, something he hopes will last forever. 

He can’t wait to print them out, they’ll look perfect on your wall (your apartment is nicer than his and he’ll be moving in as soon as you say the word). 

AN: Happy almost new year!! ily all 💖 i wish you light and blessings 💫

My Masterlist

heads up! dad!cheol au.

seungcheol can't stop watching the way you interact with his son nowadays. he thinks you're in a miracle in the oddest way: you work from home and can watch his son if he needs you to, and his son fully adores you like you're family. today, he had asked if you could come over and watch his son (still recovering from a cold) while he ran to the grocery store. he promised you lunch and payment on top of it, and now that he's finished with lunch... he should be getting you both to come eat.

instead, he's just watching the way you're sitting at his son's craft table with him. he's sitting in your lap, little hands gripping crayons as he talks you through the fish he's drawing now (he's been in this 'all things aquatic' phase for as long as seungcheol can remember). and you're just nodding along, listening so attentively like this is the coolest thing you've ever heard.

seungcheol calls for his son, kneeling down and opening his arms. "let's go eat lunch."

immediately, his son drops his crayons and takes off toward him at full speed. he throws his arms around his neck, and seungcheol scoops him up to tote him off so that he can wash his hands before he eats. when he looks back at you, you're neatening up the mess his son left behind. you won't put it away (seungcheol is clear about that: he's trying to teach his son to put his toys away when he's done, and he knows that he'll go back to drawing once he's done eating), but there's something cute about the way you carefully make sure the crayons won't roll away.

there's something there, he thinks to himself as he's washing his hands alongside his son (demonstration, or something like that: just to show his son that everyone should be doing this to keep themselves healthy). he's not imagining it, is he? he knows he has friends who can drop things for him if he needs them to step in and be an uncle or an aunt for a bit, but you're... different. his son loves you more than any of seungcheol's other friends. you've taken his son out a few times for play dates at the park or trips to the aquarium when seungcheol needed some undisturbed rest from work. he's cared for you when you were sick the same way you've cared for him and his son when the times come. hell, you've even tagged along with him to help distract his son during the boring errands, just to make his day a little easier. it's almost like you're a second parent to--

he stops. you're like a parent to his son. when did you become a parent to his son? he washes his hands off and dries them before drying his son's, and he watches the kid hop down from his stool and immediately head to where you're washing your own hands. seungcheol pulls out his phone while he has the spare moment, and texts jeonghan: can you watch him this weekend if my neighbor says yes to a date?

the response back is almost immediate: oh? so you're finally doing it? good luck. (yes, i'll watch him)

and now he'll have to ask you, even if he starts to think twice about it. all that's left is to figure out how to do it. and he'll start thinking about that... after he watches you sneak his son extra goldfish crackers, just to see him smile.

always only you (c.sc)

summary: the date was terrible, awful even, but you just can't call your brother to pick you up. you have to call his best friend instead.

note: hi um....... i'm back and a seventeen stan now????? don't worry, i'm still working on ateez fic, but s.coups has taken hold of my brain and i needed to get this one out there so..... pls enjoy

warnings: non idol!seungcheol, fem!reader, older brother mingyu, seungcheol is mingyus bff, reader is called a sl*t in a mean way by her shitty date, v protective cheol, reckless driving, unprotected sex (wrap it up dont be like them), reader is curvy and descriptors like full, thick, etc. are used throughout, makeouts, grinding, cheol is obsessed with pussy, i mean fr he's a bonafide wap enjoyer, an oral aficionado of the wettest kind, anyways there's oral sex f receiving, hand stuff, rough fingering, rough but passionate sex, use of baby and princess, creampies b/c lbr he's gotta, anyways they're obsessed with each other

pairings: s.coups x reader

genre: smut and more smut, childhood friends to lovers

word count: 14.2K

It was a bad date. 

Not the worst date you’ve ever had, granted, but still pretty up there in terms of terrible. He left an hour ago, the minute you interrupted his monologue to tell him that you were pretty sure things weren’t going to work out. You’ve never had someone leave in the middle of a date before, but then again, you’ve never actually told someone the date was bad in the middle either. 

Not being able to find the right guy is starting to feel embarrassing. It’s been years since your last relationship and months since you even had a second date. Naively, you had had such a good feeling about tonight and having to be proven wrong at breakneck speed before you even got your entrees feels like some kind of poetic karma for something you must have done. You just wish for once you had kept your mouth shut, but your good feeling had been infectious and your excitement about the date bubbled up out of you to your friends and your coworkers. 

You just wish you never told Mingyu. 

I have a really good feeling about him. That’s what you told your brother on the phone a few hours ago. We’ve been talking for a few weeks, I think you’ll really like him.

Stupid. 

You should have known he was on the rebound from the suspiciously large gap in photos on his Instagram. You should have known he was just trying to sleep with you from the minute he commented on your dress, from the way he touched your shoulder for too long for the first hug. You should have known on top of all of that that he would be boring from his joking non-answer when you asked about his most recent read. Sometimes it takes all of those things wrapped up tightly together and shoved directly in your face from across a dining room table to know for sure. 

You just wish you never said a word to Mingyu. You don’t want to see that look in his eyes when you tell him he wasn’t the right guy. His eyes always go soft, mouth downturned, and it kills you every time because he means it when he says - You’ll find the right guy soon, anyone would be crazy to not love you. 

Tonight you really don’t want pity, you don’t think you can handle it. 

“Are you ready for the check?” The server’s voice snaps you right out of your thoughts and you look up at his sympathetic smile. 

“Sorry,” You manage, “yes,”

“No rush,” He lies, immediately producing the leather billfold and sliding it across the tablecloth. 

The floor doesn’t start to drop out from beneath you until you open it, despite having to sit here and eat your pasta alone. This place is expensive, more expensive than you thought. 

Your eyes run through the bill. Four cocktails, two appetizers, two entrees, one slice of cherry cheesecake. The bills your date left on the table just barely covers three cocktails. You can’t afford this. The prices here were probably nothing for your date given how much he talked about his extremely smart investing strategies, but not for you. 

You do fast math, panic math. 

After paying the bill you’ll have 9,600 won in your debit account. You get paid tomorrow so it’s not the scariest number you’ve ever seen in your account, but it’s definitely not enough for a taxi home. 

Your stomach churns. 

You pay the bill quickly, quietly, the server’s hovering presence by your shoulder enough to tell you there is in fact a considerable rush. Your card is returned to you in moments, and he places a brown paper bag in front of you, “There’s an extra slice of cheesecake in there for you,” he says, “I’m sorry about your date.”

He’s gone before you can say thank you. 

You suppose you can’t really sit inside anymore if you’ve paid the bill and you’re holding a to-go bag, so you step out into the chilly night air. It’s been raining lately, but barely. It’s been cloudy more than anything, and yet here you are walking outside into the cold night air and a late autumn storm of icy rain. 

Your date was a special kind of bastard for leaving you stranded a half hour from your apartment in a storm like this. 

The comments he made about you, about your dress and the way it fits flick through your mind and your jaw draws tightly shut. If you had had the wherewithal in that moment to slap him or toss a glass of water in his face you would have, but instead you sat frozen with your stomach in knots. 

It takes you one flash of rage to scroll through your phone and delete the three dating apps installed, and then you open up your contacts and scroll for your brother’s name. He doesn’t live too far from here, and you know he’s probably out with some of his friends, but if you’re lucky maybe he’s close by. Your finger hovers over Mingyu’s contact, but you can't quite make the call. 

You’re twenty-six, you should be grown up enough to get home by yourself after a bad date and not have to call him to rescue you. Embarrassment floods you, the idea of admitting you can’t afford the taxi tonight just sinks into your bones. You love your brother so much, but the idea of seeing him look at you the way he sometimes does and then slip money into your purse for you to find at home makes you want to cry. You’d call him and you’d tell him you’re returning it and he’d play dumb - What money, y/n? I didn’t put that there, maybe it’s like when you find 50,000 won in your old jeans?

No, you can’t call him. You can’t go over to his lovely little apartment with his absolutely lovely fiance and cry about the sorry state of your romantic life. Nothing about that will make you feel better in this moment, absolutely nothing. 

You scroll away from his contact and you think about anyone else you could call, but there’s only one person who keeps coming to mind. There’s no way he’ll pick up, not when he sees your number on his phone, not after the way you’ve treated him for the past year, but his apartment really isn’t that far from here and if he doesn’t hate your guts you know he’ll at least give you a ride. 

The rain picks up, pelting you hard enough that you have to duck back under the measly lip of the restaurants roof for what cover it provides, and you don’t realize you’re well and truly crying until your cheeks feel warm and wet and you can’t get a full breath, but here you are. Stranded alone, broke, and loveless in an apparently ill fitting dress, and there’s only one person’s voice you want to hear even if it’s just his stupid voicemail box. 

Tears hiccup out of you as you dial, cold fingers shaking as you try to press the numbers you’ve had memorized by heart since you were thirteen and got your first cell phone. 

The phone rings twice before he answers, “Hey, you,” 

The easy sound of his voice makes your tears come faster. Your breath hitches in your chest, “Cheol?”

“y/n?” His voice shifts, “Are you crying?”

“I’m,” You hiccup again, “I’m sorry,”

“Hey,” He tries again, “y/n, is that you?” 

“I messed up,” Your head is starting to throb and you press your eyes closed, leaning back against the cold wall of the restaurant and hiding as much of your body under the overhang of the roof as possible, “I’m sorry to call,”

“That’s okay,” Seungcheol says, his voice sounding strained, “what happened, princess?” 

He hasn’t called you that in years, not since you were fifteen and carrying a torch for him. Not since you made Mingyu tell him to stop. 

“C-can you come get me?” You wish you could just stop crying.

“Tell me where you are,” He answers immediately, and despite the rain you hear the sound of his car keys. 

You give him the name of the restaurant, the closest cross streets, all blubbered out between fat tears and rain drops. 

“That’s…” He sounds distant suddenly and then his voice reconnects, “twenty minutes, okay? I’ll be there in twenty minutes, princess, just take a deep breath,” 

You drag in a shaky breath, “Cheol,” you scrub the tears from under your eyes, “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call,” 

“Me,” He says, his car starting up in the background, “you always call me if you need me,” 

You haven’t seen him in almost a year, barely talked to him outside of sending reactions to each other's Instagram stories, but he’s coming. 

The way you fell away from him was gradual at first, and then an intentional self preservationist wall. Mingyu had introduced his best friend to a girl, and despite your high school crush being supposedly dead and buried, you weren’t prepared for what Choi Seungcheol in love would look like. You started being busier and busier until his calls went unanswered and then eventually his calls just stopped altogether. Mingyu told you later that the relationship didn’t last, but the damage was done and in the end it was just easier not to reach out first. 

You can’t believe he picked up the phone and you can’t believe the first thing he heard from you in a year was hysterical crying. Taking a set of deep, steadying breaths you wipe away the wetness from your cheeks. Your date had hurt your feelings, but you only let it last for a minute. You wouldn’t let a man with such a fragile ego get into your head, and besides, you’ve always liked this dress. 

Seungcheol makes it to you in fifteen minutes flat. He’s broken at least six traffic laws to get to you, including running a solidly red, redlight, but he really doesn’t care. 

He’s seen you cry before, plenty of times. When you skinned your knee at seven or that time he and Mingyu played a prank when you were eleven, tricking you into thinking you were home alone on Halloween night. He’s seen you cry at movies and at videos of puppies and the sound of moving music, and he remembers your eyes full of glassy tears watching Mingyu graduate college. He remembers the sound of it when your grandmother died when you were nineteen, the way your shoulders shook and your breath wheezed as you hid your face tightly in your brother's chest while he looked on feeling so, so helpless. 

Seungcheol remembers all of it, but he’s never heard you sound like you did tonight.  

Mingyu had said you had a date. Earlier in Seungcheol’s night at a bar not far from his apartment, his best friend mentioned it off hand. Mingyu said it like an afterthought as he answered one of your texts. Seungcheol tried not to notice the way his hand tightened on his beer can, enough to make the aluminum crack inwards on itself where his thumb dug into the cool metal. He tried not to think too much about what that meant, just like he’s been trying not to think too much about you at all lately. 

Now his mind is racing, threading the pieces together as the wet road whips by. The threadiness of your voice turns synonymous with panic in his mind and now all he can think about is how he’ll find you when he gets there. He goes over the facts he knows while he stops behind a small block of traffic, his knuckles white as he grips the wheel. 

A date, a bad date, a date you needed a ride away from. The kind of date you couldn’t tell your brother about, when he knows that Mingyu is always your first call. As the traffic disperses he presses the gas pedal and weaves around the slower cars, images flickering in his mind’s eye. A faceless man looking at you, making you uncomfortable, pressing into your space. His mind loops on the image of an unwanted kiss, of pushy hands finding their way under your blouse. 

By the time he’s skidding into the parking lot of the restaurant his hands are shaking and he’s ready to kill. 

When he sees you, wet and shivering on the sidewalk, he nearly falls out of the car trying to get to you. He leaves the key in the ignition, the door flung wide open with warmth pouring out into the chilly night air. 

He looks flustered, rumpled like he was having a quiet night in. Heavy gray sweatpants that hang just right on his hips and an oversized white shirt. He’s wearing socks and slides and the second you see him it dawns on you that when you called him you must have sounded hysterical because he didn’t even try to dress for the icy weather. 

“You look terrible,” You clap a hand over your lips to stop yourself from laughing, and you can’t believe that’s the first thing you manage to say to him after a year. You hate yourself for having no filter, no off switch, no ability to just be normal and say thank you for coming all this way. 

His expression runs from panic to confusion in a split second, “What?” 

“Fuck,” You laugh, shaking your head, “no, sorry, you look good, but it’s raining like hell, get in the car,” 

He blinks, “y/n,” 

“Come on,” You duck out from beneath the measly roof overhang and dart towards the passenger side door, “it’s freezing, I’ll explain in the car,” 

Your dress is wet, but not soaked through, so you hope you won’t do any damage to his seats as you slide into the warmth of his car and shut the door. It takes him at least thirty seconds to follow you, but through his confusion at your reaction you bet he finally registers the cold wetness of his socks and it snaps him back to reality. 

He leaves the car in park and turns his body to you. 

You owe him an explanation, especially given the way you cried on the phone to him twenty minutes ago, but all you can think right now is that it’s really, really nice to see his face again. His hair has gotten longer, shaggier and curled a little at the neck and it might just be the fit of his shirt, but he looks broader. It’s only been a year, but he looks so much more like a man now. All you can manage is, “Hey, Cheol,” 

“Hey,” He answers, shifting himself further in the seat so that he’s almost twisted up sideways, one leg tucked up to accommodate the position. 

The front of his shirt is damp with rain and clinging a bit to his chest and you look down. You really do not need to be having these kinds of thoughts about him again, it’s only been a minute, ninety seconds at the most.  

“y/n,” He says, his voice slow and soft, “what happened?” 

Shame floods you, heating your cheeks red. 

He stretches a hand across the center console, but he stops halfway, his fingers closing into a loose fist, “You know you can tell me anything, right?” 

“I know,” 

“I won’t tell Gyu,” He offers quietly, “just tell me what happened, and I promise, I’ll take care of it.” 

Oh. 

Your head snaps up at his serious tone, “Nothing happened, I’m fine,” 

He looks more confused than before if that’s even possible, and you can practically see him working out his next words. 

“Cheol,” You shake your head, “I’m serious, I’m completely fine, I just needed a ride,” 

“You were crying,” He says, not a question but a fact. 

“I know,” You sigh. 

“You were crying like something happened,” He draws his arm back and runs a hand through his damp hair, “and you called me?” 

“I know,” You repeat, “it was a bad date, but that’s all it was. He ditched me without a ride though and I just,” 

Seungcheol’s lips close at your words as he waits for you to finish. 

“The thought of calling Mingyu and telling him about this just,” You clear your throat to push back a little bubble of emotion, “yeah, I couldn’t do that,” 

“Oh,” His voice drops, and Seungcheol shifts in his seat, throwing the car into drive, “got it.” 

“No, Cheol,” You shake your head, “that’s not what I meant,” 

“It’s fine,” He peels out of the parking lot, “I’ll drive you home.”

He’s angry, pissed at you in that way he gets pissed. Tightened jaw, heavy sighs, his knee bouncing in irritation. If you give it five minutes he’ll tell you what’s bothering him, he’ll say it in a fast rush like he’s more disappointed than mad. You have to let him come to you when he’s like this, no amount of trying to explain will fix it, so you wait. 

The drive is silent, and you fight the urge to jump in with directions when he approaches each light and turn. He knows where your apartment is, he helped you move in four years ago when you graduated college. Mingyu and his friends lifting box after box and telling you to just relax and let the professionals handle it. You smile at the memory. 

He stays quiet until he turns off the major road and down the side streets that will take you to your apartment, but finally he says, “You can’t just call me like that and expect me to drop everything when you have a bad date,” 

“Were you busy?” You didn’t think so judging by the state of his clothes, but it’s not out of the realm of possibility. He could have had friends over, maybe a girl. You wonder idly if he’s seeing someone. 

“That’s not the point,” He glances at you, “and you know it.” 

“I’m sorry,” You tell him, and you mean it, “I really didn’t know who to call, and I just,” 

“What, y/n?” He pushes a little. 

“I just don’t want to tell Mingyu about the date,” You confess, “and I didn’t mean to call you and be such a mess, the date really was bad and I was feeling sorry for myself, and I didn’t have enough money to get home,” 

“What?” He swivels his head to the side for a moment and then refocuses on the road. 

“I would have called a taxi,” You explain, “but my fucking date left and didn’t pay after we ordered all this food and it was more than I was planning for,” 

“He didn’t pay?” He sounds disgusted and you smile. 

“No,” You tell him, “but in fairness, I did tell him in the middle of the date it wasn’t going to work out,” 

He laughs sharply, and you know he’s still irritated but at least he’s listening, “That bad?” 

“Yeah,” You sigh, “but it is what it is,” 

He glances over to you again, “So he walked out?” 

“Basically,” You nod, “he said what he needed to say, dropped twenty-thousand won on the table like that was going to cover anything and walked out. At least now I know he was an asshole, I’m not missing out on anything,” 

“What did he say to you?” His voice pops up an octave. 

You’d really rather not tell him, you’d be fine burying the comment he made deep down inside never to be unpacked again. You shake your head, “It’s fine,” 

“It doesn’t seem fine,” He starts, but you smoothly cut back in. 

“I just didn’t want Gyu to feel bad for me I guess, he knew I was looking forward to the date, and having to call for a ride like this, I don’t know. I was embarrassed,” You explain. 

“I still don’t understand why you called me, though,” He admits, and you can still feel the tension in him even though the conversation has been ebbing and flowing, “I’m not your brother.” 

Irritation sparks in you at the comment, “I know you’re not,” you turn to him, “but we’re friends, aren’t we?” 

“Friends call each other,” He says simply, “don’t they?” 

You let his comment sit in the air between you for a moment, and then you sigh, “Yeah, they do. I’m sorry I disappeared on you like that,” 

“I tried calling,” He says softly, “but you were always busy,” 

“I know,” You breathe. 

He drives further, slower now and safer that you’re in the car, and you can see him thinking through your words. Finally he slides his hand across the center console with his palm turned up, offering you his hand, “y/n,” he says, “are you doing okay? With money, I mean, after what you said?” 

“I’m good,” You tell him, “it was just shitty timing,” 

“If you need anything,” He squeezes your hand as you slide your palm across his, “I’m here, we don’t have to say anything to,” 

 “I’m okay,” You assure him, “but thank you, seriously,” 

He nods, accepting your words, but then he asks something harder, “What did that guy say to you, y/n? I know you, you weren’t crying like that over not being able to get a taxi,” 

You sigh, leaning back in the passenger seat, “Can I ask you to let it go?” 

“You can ask,” He shrugs, “but so can I.” 

You sit quietly, looking at your entwined hands resting on your knee. His thumb strokes over your knuckles slowly. 

“Fine,” You murmur, “he said he didn’t want to date me anyways, he just came to sleep with me,” 

His hand tightens on yours. 

“And if I wasn’t going to fuck him,” You do your best to clean up some of the language he used when he got up from the table, “I shouldn’t have dressed like a slut,” 

You leave out the part that really cut deep, the part that made the more form fitting dress you chose go from sexy to something sour. 

“Give me this asshole’s name,” Seungcheol skids to a stop a little too harshly at the next traffic light and turns to you. 

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m fine now, it just stung,” 

His lips close in a tight line and then he sighs, “I’m so sorry someone said that to you,” 

“Don’t apologize, Cheol,” You squeeze his hand, “you didn’t say it.” 

“I know, but still,” He holds your gaze, “it was mean, and you deserve much better from a guy you’re seeing, and you don’t look like, or I mean, you aren’t a,” 

You smile as he stumbles over his words and someone behind him gently honks the horn enough to let him know the light has gone green. 

He jolts and refocuses on the road, clearing his throat, “What I’m trying to say is that you look nice, pretty. The dress is good, and you, um, you don’t look,” 

“Thank you,” You cut him off, trying to save him from swallowing his own tongue out of embarrassment, and you ignore the way your stomach flipped over on itself hearing Seungcheol call you pretty. 

“Yeah,” He swallows, slowing down to make the final turn onto your little block, “you know what I mean,” 

“Mhm,” You laugh, breaking down any lingering tension, “Cheol, are you a little disappointed you didn’t get to punch my date? Is that it?” 

“Shut up,” He sighs. 

“Aw,” You smile as he pulls into a space by your apartment, “You were worried about me?” 

He rolls his eyes as he kills the ignition, “You were hysterical,” he says, “what was I supposed to think?” 

“Don’t worry,” You smile as he throws open the driver’s side door, “I think it’s kind of sweet that you went all knight and shining armor on me,” 

His lip twitches, “Don’t make fun,” he says, “I thought something bad happened to you,” 

“Nothing bad happened to me,” You find yourself assuring him again even though he already knows this, and you twist the moment back to a joke as quickly as you can, “unless you count listening to a guy talk about his ex for twenty minutes,” 

He grimaces, “Ugh,” 

“Exactly,” 

“Actually, you know what,” He grins, “you’re right, that is a terrible date and you were right to call me,” 

He’s out of the car and crossing to your door and relief floods your chest. Just like that, you’re back to normal. 

Seungcheol pulls open your door to let you out and says, “Do you have a towel or something?” 

“You want to come up?” 

“If you don’t mind,”

“You just swooped in and saved my night, Coups, of course I don’t mind.” He smiles at the nickname, the one mostly used by his friend group and coined by Seungcheol himself during their short lived Soundcloud music career freshman year of college. The nickname stuck, but you and Mingyu knew him before and you’ve both always, always called him Seungcheol. 

He ducks his head, smiles, and follows you up the stairs and into your apartment just like old times. 

It’s a little strange seeing him like this after so much time has passed, but no matter what has happened in your life, even when your childhood little crush on him was making your nights sleepless, he’s always been there. He’s been a constant in your life since you could form memories, and when you really think about it, you’ve never not known Seungcheol. Suddenly seeing him in your living room feels right, and it makes you wonder why you couldn’t pick up the phone and say something real to him this past year.

“It looks good in here,” He offers, toeing off his slides in the entryway and stepping into your little living room, “it looks like you,” 

“Thanks,” You’re pretty sure the floor of your bedroom is still covered in clothes from earlier, but he’s not going to see that and you’re just glad you didn’t let that chaos spillover out here. 

“So,” He clears his throat lightly. 

“Towel,” You jump, “right, hold on,” 

You disappear down the hall and Seungcheol’s chest goes fluttering fast. He doesn’t need a towel, he doesn’t need anything except a pair of dry socks and his own bed, and he can’t figure out for the life of him why he gave into the little voice that told him to come upstairs. You’ve made it pretty clear over the past year or so that you’ve grown up, you’ve made your own group of friends outside of him and your brother and the guys. He doesn’t need to be here, you don’t need him anymore, you just needed a ride. 

But he’s missed you a little. A lot if he’s being honest with himself. Sometimes he finds himself asking Mingyu about you, hoping you might drop by while he’s at his best friend’s place. Your name on his phone screen earlier in the night had stopped his heart cold. He couldn’t imagine why you were calling and not just texting, and he picked up the phone so fast he thought he might have fucked it up and accidentally pressed end. He tried to sound casual, normal, but his heart was pounding. 

Standing in your living room he feels out of place, like a forgotten childhood relic unboxed in the middle of a new home. He doesn’t know which seat to sit in, he doesn’t have his spot on your couch here like he did at your old place. He doesn’t know where you keep your glasses or which remote would switch on the television. He doesn’t know which book you’ve been reading from the little stack on the table or the name of the place you’ve been working, and there’s a man’s jacket hanging on the wall in the hallway that he doesn’t recognize. He hopes it’s Mingyu’s. 

He doesn’t know why he’s here. He should leave. He should go. 

“Okay,” Your voice comes back, and he tears his eyes away from the little details of your life he doesn’t recognize to look back at you, “I’ve got a towel, socks, and I bet I have a sweatshirt of Gyu’s around here if you’re cold,” 

“I’m good,” He recovers, taking the dry items from your hands. 

Your fingers brush along his as you pass everything off and your stomach jumps. 

“Come in,” You wave him in, “I’ll make some coffee or something and then I need to change,” 

“You should get a warm shower,” He says abruptly, “you’ll catch a cold,” 

“I’m fine,” You shake your head, “I wasn’t out there for too long,” 

“I’ll make the coffee then, you need to get out of that wet dress,” He shoos you away and points to your kitchen, “I assume you have a normal coffee machine and not some fancy Italian thing?” 

“I think you’ll be fine,” You smile, “I’ll just be a second,” 

He nods, and you dart back down the hallway to your bedroom. 

It takes you three minutes to change into something comfortable and clean and then kick all of your scattered clothes into the closet and shut the door. You run a brush through your tangled hair from the rain, and you almost forget that your childhood crush is walking freely around your apartment, but then you hear his laugh and you melt into the wall behind you. You missed the sound of it so much, and if you don’t get a handle on this right now you’re going to go out there and make a fool of yourself. 

But then he laughs again. 

You smile as you come back out into the living room, leaving your good sense behind in the bathroom, “What’s so funny?” 

“I haven’t seen these in years,” He grins, and as you come around the corner you realize he’s looking at the photos you have framed and sitting in various spots on your bookshelf. 

“Oh,” You smile, seeing the one he’s holding and studying, “yeah,” 

“This one,” He tips the frame so you can see the picture, but you already know which one, Mingyu and Seungcheol in their first year of college stand in the center of the frame, Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Dokyeom, and Hoshi with their arms thrown around each other on either side. You are crouching in the center with Jeonghan’s little sister, both of you holding out a peace sign. 

“Isn’t this the night we went to that haunted theme park?” Seungcheol asks with a smile. 

“Yeah,” You take the photo back from him and look it over for a moment, “in Daegu,” 

He nods, “I remember,” 

“Yeah,” You place the photo back in it’s assigned spot and turn towards the kitchen, “I just remember you and DK scaring the living shit out of me,” 

“God,” He runs a hand through his hair, “we did, I felt so bad about that after,” 

“Mm,” You laugh. 

“Gyu reamed us out for it later,” He follows you into the kitchen and watches as you pour two cups of freshly brewed coffee. 

“He never told me that,” Your eyes perk up in surprise. 

“He said,” Seungcheol straightens himself up to his full height and lets his face go passive for his impression, “‘If you ever make my sister cry like that again, you’ll be sorry,’” 

“Sorry?” You laugh, “Mingyu wouldn’t know how to make someone sorry if his life depended on it,” 

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, relaxing his shoulders and reaching for his cup, “it seemed pretty clear he wasn’t fucking around, we took him seriously,” 

“Wow,” You lean against the counter, “that’s actually kind of sweet,” 

“He’s always been protective of you,” Seungcheol points out, “even now, he’ll talk about you and I can see it,” 

“I’m not a kid anymore, though,” You bristle a little. 

“He knows that,” Seungcheol shakes his head, “he just worries, you know, it’s his nature,” 

“Yeah,” You nod, taking a long sip of your coffee, “I know,” 

Seungcheol hovers, not finding a place to lean or to sit in the unfamiliar place, and finally he just asks the question that’s been on his mind for the past twenty minutes, “Is that why you didn’t call him? He worries too much?” 

“I guess a little,” You move past him and back into the living room, “come sit down, you’re making me nervous,” 

He blushes and every little emotion you’ve ever had for him comes thundering back in your chest. There are at least three places for him to sit that aren’t directly next to you on the couch, but he ignores every one of them and sits next to you, barely a foot away, and turns towards you so he can put all his focus on you. 

“So,” He prompts you, “come on, it’s just me,” 

Talking to him was always easy, always. Even in the throes of your infatuation you were able to hold a conversation with him, sometimes a long one out on the balcony of your parent’s house. It’s almost irritating how quickly that familiarity and comfort comes back. 

“I just feel like I’ve been really fucking this whole dating thing up,” You confess, “and Mingyu’s been… well you know him, he’s like the number one hype man for me making all my dreams come true, and being ten out of ten happy,” 

“Yeah,” He nods, but lets you continue. 

“But I just haven’t been able to make it work with anyone in a while,” You bite down the reason why in the back of your brain, “and every time I tell him about a bad date he just looks sadder and sadder for me,” 

“Mm,” He nods, sympathetic, “I know exactly what you mean.” 

“I’m so glad you picked up, honestly,” You glance down at the edge of your cup, “you’ve never treated me like that, and I just… I guess I needed a friend and not my brother tonight,” 

He hesitates, but then his hand comes to rest on your knee and he gives you a squeeze, “I get it,” he says, “but, honestly it seems like you’re putting a lot of pressure on yourself,” 

“I know, but,” You sigh, your words dying out as you focus on his lingering hand on your knee. 

“What’s so important about getting a guy right now?” He asks, and you almost laugh at the absurdity of this man asking you that question. 

“Cheol,” You shift on the couch to reposition, pulling back your knee from his touch so you can face him and admit this without being dizzier than you are about his presence, “I don’t know, exactly, but… don’t you feel like living alone is kind of fucking lonely sometimes?”

His eyes flick over you and then he nods. 

The words keep coming as much as you don’t want them to now that you’ve started telling someone, telling him the truth of it and you grimace as you admit it, “The sick part is that I think it’s me. Tonight was the exception, he was a dick, but most of these guys are nice. They’re nice, they’re respectful, they seem to be interested in me, but none of them are what I want, none of them are,”  

You have to stop. You have to get off this topic and off this train before you say something really and truly stupid and burn this newly restored friendship down to ash. 

“Having high standards isn’t a bad thing,” He offers, “and Gyu sets the bar high for how you should treat a woman, I mean,” 

“You think I’m talking about Mingyu?” You laugh sharply. 

“He’s the best guy I know,” He starts to say and then the wheels start turning. 

It happens fast, your absolute lightning quick strike to the match, but your poor decision making usually goes something like this. It makes you mad at first, his constant reference to your perfect brother, but then it all makes sense. Seungcheol really has no idea how you feel about him, as a person or otherwise. It doesn’t enter his brain that the guy who set your standards for men so high might be him, even after he drove illegally fast on wet roads just to come get you because he heard you cry. Up until the last year of your life where you tried to install some distance, he was always there. He was always your first call, always your last call too, and you could never really see anyone else while he was towering right in front of you. He’s never let you down and he doesn’t even know it. 

“I can’t believe you,” The words slip out, and then you’re kissing him. 

He takes a sharp inhale of breath at the way you collapse onto him, holding yourself up with one hand on his chest and the other on his neck, and his mouth is so warm. You press the first kiss tentatively, and then the second a little more insistently, and then you realize he hasn’t moved an inch and isn’t kissing you back in the least. 

You fly backwards, your hand over your mouth, “Oh, god, I’m so sorry,” 

He clears his throat and shifts, shaking his head, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” 

“I can’t believe I just did that,” You blush scarlet, “I’m a mess, I’m so, so sorry, Cheol,” 

“Really,” He avoids your eyes, “it’s fine, it was an emotional night, and you just said it yourself, living alone is lonely. We’re good,” 

“I didn’t kiss you because I was sad,” You run a hand through your hair and slump back on the couch, “I kissed you because you were being a dumb ass,” 

“I feel like you’re insulting me a lot tonight considering I just drove across town for you,” He’s not angry, not really, but he doesn’t let you off so easily, he never has. 

“I kissed you because you’re the best guy I know,” You counter his words back, “and I’m sick of you always putting yourself down when-”

He yanks you forwards by your wrist, and this kiss is what you’ll count forever as the first one. He drags your body forwards as he leans back against the couch and kisses you hard, his tongue dipping past your lips this time, his breath mingling with yours. 

You shift for better purchase, your chest and his flush together, and you moan softly against his lips when his hand slips lower on your waist. 

He breaks the kiss, his forehead leaning against yours, “What the fuck are we doing?” 

“I think they call it making out,” You manage, your heart beating fast like a bird. 

“Jesus,” He shakes his head, “what are we doing?” 

“Cheol,” You start, but he kisses you again, hungrier and hotter as he pulls you in. 

You pant against his mouth, your brain exploding into little fireworks as his hands start to wander, and then he groans, “You feel so good,” 

This is going somewhere fast, and with your hands twisted in the fabric of his t-shirt you swing your leg over his hips and let him wrap his arms around you. 

“We should slow down,” You find yourself mumbling against his mouth, “but I don’t want to, I want you,” 

He nods against you, his hands squeezing your thighs where they rest on either side of him, “I want you too,” 

“We should talk more,” You manage as his kisses travel over your jaw. 

“Later?” He asks, his hands dragging you closer, “God, that dress,” 

“Yeah?” You’re breathless already. 

“If I knew you were going to kiss me I would have peeled it off you,” He pants. 

A moan gets caught in your throat, your hips jerking, nipples hardening against his chest as you throw yourself into another kiss. 

“God,” He shivers. 

“Cheol stay,” You can talk later, he’s absolutely right, and you beg him not to go between kisses, “please stay,” 

Logic starts to pump through him at the implications of that, so much more than kissing comes with staying for the night and he starts to shake his head, but at the way you’re touching him he can’t quite tear his hands away. 

“I should go home,” He murmurs against your mouth, fingers slipping underneath the hem of your t-shirt, “you’ve been drinking,” 

“I had two drinks,” You connect your lips with his again, tongue dipping into his mouth, “like three hours ago,” 

“Still,” He kisses you again despite his words, his hand now flat against the small of your back. 

“I’m not drunk,” You pull yourself closer using his shoulders, “if you don’t want to kiss me, don’t kiss me, but don’t use that as an excuse,” 

“I should go home,” He repeats, like saying it out loud might make his body follow his brain, but it doesn’t. All he does is tug you closer, your legs now fully splayed around his hips as he leans back against the couch and groans against your mouth. 

“I should,” He starts again, whispered thoughts against your lips, but you push back from his chest and break your mouths apart. 

“If you want to go so bad, go,” You pull your arms away from him, crossing them under your chest to hold yourself steady. Your nails press pinpricks into your palms. 

“This isn’t about what I want,” His eyes soften in that tender way you love, and his hand cups your waist, thumb brushing a line over the deep curve of your hip. 

“Why wouldn’t this be about what you want?” You press him, “Or about what I want?” 

“Mingyu is my best friend,” He says, his mouth drawn into a sullen line, “and I never want to do anything that betrays his trust or hurts him in any way,” 

“I’m not asking you to,” Your voice is small. 

“Just,” He sighs, his head tipping backwards against the cushions and his hands slipping to rest over your thighs, “tell me something, okay? Be honest,” 

“Okay,” 

“Do you want me because you’re lonely and I’m here,” He asks, his eyes locked to the ceiling, “or do you want me because you want me?” 

Your arms fall slack and you open your mouth to respond but he presses forwards. 

“Because if this is a one time thing to make us both feel better,” He shakes his head, “I can’t do that, I have to go home.” 

“Cheol,” You murmur, but he doesn’t lift his head. You reach for him, brushing a hand along his cheek and drawing his gaze back down from the ceiling to your face, “Seungcheol, look at me,” 

“Yeah,” He finally follows your gaze. 

“I love my brother, but this isn’t about him,” You tell him clearly, and you watch his lips part so he can cut in but you shake your head, “it isn’t. This is about us, and I’ve had a crush on you since I was fucking thirteen,” 

He blinks, a grin breaking across his face, “You have?” 

“Yeah,” You shuffle closer on his lap, “why do you think I disappeared? You started dating that girl and I just… it wasn’t my place to say anything, it’s not like you were mine, but,” 

He brushes the hair back from your cheek as he nods, “It hurts to see the person you want with someone else,” 

“Yeah,” 

“And you wanted me?” 

You nod, stroking his neck where your hand rests, “I just needed some space after that, I thought I could move on,” 

“I know the feeling,” He smiles, his thumb tender against your jaw, “believe me,” 

“I do,” You nod, “so believe me when I tell you I’ve wanted you for a long time and I don’t just want the one night,” 

He sits frozen, his eyes studying your expression, and then he’s moving. Seungcheol pulls you down to meet his mouth again, hands roughly threading into your hair and gripping your hip as he tugs your bodies flush together. He kisses like you hope he fucks, passionate and a little messy, like his need to be inside you and consumed by you is more important than any vanity. 

“God,” He groans against your mouth, “he’s going to kill me,” 

“Probably,” You huff a laugh against his lips, rolling your hips forwards to slot your bodies together tightly, and at the feeling of his hardening cock pressed against your sex you can’t help the breathy moan that slips out. 

He drops his hands to your hips, coaxing you into rolling them again as he presses upwards and you follow his guidance with ease. He curses softly and you roll your hips again, “Oh, fuck my fucking life,” he groans, kissing his way down your throat, “he’ll kill me, but you’re worth it,” 

“I better be,” You tease him, tugging gently on his hair as he licks a stripe along your throat. 

“Oh, you are,” He shifts back up to kiss your lips again, his mouth pillowy soft and hot against yours, “and I love Gyu, but,” 

“Seungcheol,” You push on his shoulders. 

His rarely used full name gets his attention and he leans back just enough to see your face, “What’s wrong?” 

“Can you please stop talking about my brother while you’re trying to fuck me?” You can hear the whine in your own voice, “I need you right now, we’ll deal with him later,” 

“Sorry, sorry,” He smiles, “of course, come here,” 

You melt into him as he gathers you closer, his warm, rough hands finding new expanses of skin to touch and it’s strange but delicious to know that there are still brand new things you can learn about a person even after knowing them all your life. He gets soft beneath you like butter when you touch his ears, audibly groans when you grind against him, and gets breathier every time you kiss his neck. He’s not afraid to make little noises in your ear, to curse when you do something right or softly beg you to do something again. 

With his mouth on yours and his hands exploring you, you’re just a shaky wet mess in his arms and he doesn’t even fully realize it yet, still so focused on studying your body with his lips, his tongue.

“Ch-Cheol,” You whine as his teeth nip at your pulsepoint, “baby,” 

His hands tighten, sliding to cup your backside through the thin fabric of your lounge pants, “Say that again,” 

“Baby?” 

He exhales hot air across your neck and chest, “God, I like that,” 

“You hate pet names,” You sigh, remembering how his nose always crinkled in an uncomfortable scrunch when he heard people getting too coupley. 

“No, I don’t,” His hand slides up, tucks under the waistband of your pants, and slides back down to feel your skin, “I hate cringey shit. You calling me ‘baby’ while you’re grinding on my dick isn’t cringey, it’s fucking hot,” 

“Ah,” You tug his hair just a little, rolling your hips again, “yeah? Like this?” 

His hips jolt up, pressing his cock against your clothed mound and he groans, “Say it,” he nips at your neck again and then pushes you backwards so that you’re sitting up straddling his lap, “and let me see you,” 

For a brief flickering second you feel shy, another stark moment of awareness that the man between your thighs is Mingyu’s best friend, but it flashes away the minute you see his smile. He’s looking up at you like you invented the sun and you think it just might make you dizzy enough to say yes to anything he could ever ask of you. 

“God,” His eyes rake over you, “you’re so fucking pretty,” 

Blush creeps up your chest, “Yeah, baby?” 

He swallows hard, his hands coasting up your arms and his eyes coming to rest on the heavy swell of your chest, “The prettiest.” His fingers tuck underneath the straps of your tank top and your bralette and he glances up to your face, “Can I see?” 

“Please,” You whisper. 

He moves slowly, peeling down the straps from each of your shoulders first, letting the thin fabric of your tank top droop down your arms until he’s left with just the stretchy elastic of your black bralette. His fingers trace your curves, the pad of his thumb ghosting over one of your hardening nipples until it pushes into a firm peak under the fabric. 

“Cheol, please,” If he doesn’t touch you soon you’re going to be a squirming mess. 

“Relax,” He toys with the strap, “we’ve got all night,” 

You gasp as he dips forwards, peeling the front of your top down entirely until your breasts spill out of the elastic fabric. His lips connect with your skin, tongue exploring intimate parts of you in ways you’ve never experienced quite like this with anyone else. 

“These,” He cups your full breasts in his hands, kissing along each swell, “are perfect, princess,” 

You shiver at that, whining in his grip as he traces his tongue down and ghosts it close to your nipple, but you smile and manage, “I really took you for an ass man,” 

“I’m an everything man where you’re concerned,” He flicks his tongue experimentally across the hardened bud and hums softly when you jolt in his arms, “so excuse me if I have to slow down and show my appreciation,” 

This crush is going to kill you, that’s the thought that gets instantly banished from your brain the second Seungcheol wraps his lips around one nipple while his fingers pinch the other, setting a steady pace of sucking and teasing that is sure to leave pleasured little bruises. 

“Oh,” You grip his shoulders, “oh, Jesus, Cheol,” 

“Feel good, baby?” He switches sides smoothly and sucks again. 

A jolt of pleasure rocks from your chest to your untouched clit and you rock down, trying desperately to press your aching center against anything for a little friction. 

“Yeah?” He prompts you gently. 

“So, so good,” You nod, rolling again, “but I need more, please,” 

He nods against your chest, pressing one more kiss to your breastbone before he says, “y/n, I don’t want to move too fast or anything, we’ll do whatever you want, but,” 

“But what?” You’re about a second from pushing his hand into your underwear yourself.

  “Can I eat you out?” 

Your stomach flips, “Oh, fuck yes,” 

You’re on your back practically the second you give him permission. He holds you tight to his chest as he pushes himself up off the couch and flips you around, dropping you back onto the cushions and tugging at your clothes. Normally you’d be a little self conscious, especially in the brighter light of your living room and not the dim strategic lightning of your bedroom, but Seungcheol keeps looking at every inch of your body like he’s starving for it, groaning in pleasure at every inch of you that gets revealed, and you’re starting to think he really does like everything about you. 

You help push off your pants with shaky hands, but let him loop his thumbs under the thin straps of your underwear and tug those free, a slick wet patch in the middle where you’ve been soaking through the cotton for the past half hour. You help him with your top, until finally you’re completely bare and he’s pushing you to lie back onto the extended length of the chaise while he falls to his knees before you. 

“Wow,” He breathes, his hands running along your thighs, “just… wow,” 

“Stop,” You can’t stop the blush now, and you fight the urge to reach for a blanket or cross your arms over yourself at his exacting gaze. 

“Nope,” He dips his hands to your inner thighs and pushes your legs apart little by little, “I’m going to enjoy every bit of this,” 

“Now you’re just trying to embarrass me,” You smile. 

His tongue darts out to wet hips lips and he shakes his head, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” 

Your stomach churns, flipping nervously as he looks at you so earnestly. 

“I’m serious,” He kisses your knee as he opens one of your legs wider, “I’ve thought about this a thousand times, but you’re so much better than my imagination,” 

“Cheol,” You whisper tightly. 

“Mm,” He sighs as he tips your hips back, maneuvering your legs wide and open now and shifting your hips to the very edge of the couch so he can tuck smoothly between your open legs, “I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined too,” 

Your fingers grip down on the cushions, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Look at you,” He sighs pleasantly, his fingers ghosting along the edge of your lower lips, “is all this for me, baby?” 

“Uh-huh,” Your breath hitches as his finger just barely touches your seam. 

“You got this wet just from grinding on my lap?” He smiles, his teeth catching his thick bottom lip. 

“Cheol,” It’s all you can manage, you really didn’t know he was like this. 

His eyes soften up though at the sound of his name on your lips, and he kisses your thigh tenderly before looking back up to you, “Doing good? Okay?” 

“Mhm,” You’re fine, you are, except you think you might come the second he touches you and you’re a little terrified at just how intense he is from minute one.  

“y/n,” He squeezes you a little. 

“I’m good,” You breathe, “I promise,” 

“Okay,” He kisses your skin again and nods, “just relax, okay?” 

“I’m relaxed,” You answer too quickly and one of his eyebrows goes high. 

“Mhm,” He eases up on his knees a little to see your face better and smooths his hand from your leg to your hip to your stomach, “what’s going on?” 

“This is just a little surreal,” You admit, “isn’t it?” 

“Yeah,” He releases your legs and shifts up so he can lean over your body, catching your mouth again in a soft kiss, “it is, but do you trust me?” 

“Of course,” You kiss him back. 

“Then you should know,” He nuzzles your nose with his, “that all I want to do right now is make you come on my face until you can’t think, and after that if you still want to take this further we can, but baby, I really don’t care what we do tonight. I just want to be with you,”

Your mouth runs dry, and you can feel your core throbbing hard between your legs, your heart fluttering fast. 

“So, please, can I make you come?” He smiles, pressing another quick kiss to your lips, “I think you want me to,” 

“Yes,” The nervous knots in your stomach release, “please, Coups,” 

His nose scrunches as he laughs, kissing his way down your chest, “It’s Coups now?” 

“Cheol,” You whine, “you’re stalling,” 

“It’s called foreplay,” He licks a firm line between your breasts and moves lower, “have you not been getting fucked right, princess?” 

“F-fuck,” Your back arches as his lips travel down over your belly, eyes slipping closed, “Seungcheol,” 

He shakes his head, his hair brushing against your skin, “No more baby?” He makes a sulky noise with his tongue against the back of his teeth, “Come on princess, call me baby,” 

Your mind is spinning, and you gasp sharply as his fingers finally slide through your wet slit and land at the apex, pressing deliciously down over your throbbing clit, “Ch-Cheol, fuck, oh fuck, baby,” 

“There she is,” He groans, and as his fingers fall away and his lips take their place. He licks a deep stripe through your folds and groans, spreading your legs open wide with his hands anchored on the backs of your thighs, “You’re perfect,” 

You moan as he sucks the tender bud of your clit into his mouth. 

“I’m going to do this everyday,” He pants, licking another stripe, exploring every inch of your cunt with his tongue, “you’ll be my dessert every night,” 

“Ah,” Your head rocks back as pleasure lights up your spine, “baby,” 

“Mm,” He groans into your core, burying his face against you and alternating perfectly between sharp sucks and flicks of his tongue. 

You are moving fast, from nothing to desperate something in the span of a couple of hours, but honestly you’ve never felt safer and better and more held than this. His hands roam your body, seeking every soft place he can grab and squeeze and hold onto, and you just know the bruises on your hips will be worth it when he finally fucks you. 

“Come on,” He tips your hips back to get better access, wrapping his arms around your thick thighs, “don’t be shy,” 

“Oh, shit,” Your hand flies down to grip his hair and anchor your position as he manhandles you, your other hand gripping the cushions, “just like that,” 

He sucks harder and flicks the tip of his tongue against your bud again, quickening his pace and listening carefully for your sounds to know what you need. Looking down between your legs you can barely believe the sight, but there he is, Choi Seungcheol with his face glistening. His lips are puffy and red, his eyes hooded, and he grins when he sees you watching before nodding just a little and redoubling his efforts. 

Your legs are trembling now, the start of your orgasm building up through the base of your spine and flooding warmth into your belly, and if he wasn’t holding you so tightly you’re sure you’d snap. 

“Baby,” You whine, your voice sounding not quite your own as heat floods in your chest, “oh, God, please don’t stop,” 

He sucks hard, shifting to kiss your core and push the tender muscle of his tongue inside you, “I’ve got you,” he pants as he works his tongue faster, “I’ve got you,” 

He’s a mess, wet with slick across cheeks and sweat on his brow, and you think for a split second you might actually be in love with this man already, no one has ever, ever treated your body quite like this. As he shifts to tease your clit again, building the pleasure up and up higher, you grip down on his hair harder. 

“I’m,” You stammer out, your back arching and your mouth falling slack, “I’m gonna,”

He nods into you but doesn’t stop the pace of his tongue one bit. 

“I’m,” You gasp again, “coming, fuck, I’m coming,” 

It hits you all at once, punctuated with his sharp suck to your clit and your legs snap shut around his head, your body wrenching sideways as the wave takes you from conscious to that hazy middle space of pleasure. You can barely breathe, you can't even think, all you can do is feel pulse after pulse of pleasure. 

“Fuck,” He curses, and your brain connects enough to realize your legs are still snapped tightly shut around his ears but you can’t get your body to respond, “yeah, fuck, there you go,” 

Everything you are is trembling in his hands. 

“I could fucking die happy,” He says, shifting to nip your plush thigh with his teeth, his hands gripping down on your curves, “right here between your legs,” 

You make a sound, you think, and he chuckles against your skin. 

“Mm-mm,” He sighs pleasantly, his hands running from your thighs to your hips and down to cup your backside, “you’re fucking gorgeous, y/n, I love every fucking inch of you,” 

“Y-yeah?” Your eyes flutter open. 

“Mhm,” He flicks his tongue over your clit once more, eliciting a deep shudder from your hips before he says, “I can’t wait to fuck you,” 

Your legs start to relax, and you look down, “Then fuck me,”

“I want another first,” He shakes his head, “please, let me make you come again, sweetheart,” 

“Oh,” You shiver as he kisses your slit again, letting his tongue linger, “fuck,” 

He sighs, “This pussy,” 

“Cheol,” You blush hard. 

“I would do anything,” He smiles, flicking your clit again with his tongue, “for this perfect fucking pussy,” 

“Anything?” 

He goes still between your legs and then he nods, wetting his lips with his tongue, pressing a kiss to your quivering cunt, and looking up over your body to meet your eyes, “Anything.” 

“Will you come up here?” You reach for him, “Will you hold me?” 

He eases your legs down off his shoulders and shifts up, “Yeah, of course,” 

“Will you,” You nearly come again just at the sight of a sizeable wet spot on his sweats, and you tug at his shirt to try and silently communicate your need, “I want to touch you too,” 

“Mhm,” He stands up, shucking off his clothes as quickly as he can, and when he pushes down his boxer briefs your muscles clench. 

When you were younger, a teenager inexperienced with sex and boys, you imagined his cock. You saw the faint outline of it once through a pair of athletic shorts and you wondered what he might look like naked. You wondered if you would like his body. You wondered if he would like yours too. You can’t really remember what you imagined Seungcheol’s cock to look like, but you know this is better. It’s long, but not too long, like the guys who can’t fit it in all the way without smashing painfully into your cervix, but it’s thick. His cock is heavy, deserving of the word, and perfectly straight until the very end where it curls up towards his abdomen. 

You want him inside you so badly you could cry. 

“You okay?” He says as he slides up the couch next to you, your naked hip against his. 

“A little nervous,” You admit quietly, turning towards him on the cushions and drawing him closer with your hand on his shoulder. 

“Me too,” He says softly, maneuvering until one arm is wrapped around your back and your head is pillowed on his other, your chests flush against each other, his cock trapped between your stomachs. 

“God,” You shift closer to him, tangling your legs together, “you’re so hard,” 

He nods, sighing at the way your skin drags against his, “You’re making me insane,” 

“Good,” You smile, finding his lips with yours, tasting yourself on him and dipping your tongue into his mouth as you deepen the kiss.

He groans against you, and you snake a hand between your bodies to wrap around his aching cock. “Oh, fuck,” he curses as you pump your hand up and down his shaft, “easy, it’s been a while,” 

“Yeah?” You soften your grip a little, rolling your hand at the tip and feeling precum bead up and smear on your belly, “Saving yourself for me, baby?” 

He moans softly, his eyes rolling shut, “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” 

“Maybe,” You kiss the corner of his mouth and pump his cock a little harder. 

“L-let me touch you,” He pants, his hand pushing your hips back just enough so that he can fit a hand in between your thighs, “can I touch you?” 

It’s dizzying how much he begs to pleasure you, and you’re starting to think maybe this is part of what he needs, but you’re still new to each other’s bodies and learning and you suppose you’ll have time to figure all of this out. It’s not just a one night thing.

“Touch me,” You open your legs for him and he immediately slides his fingers down your slit to your aching entrance. 

“Don’t stop,” He urges you and you realize at the feeling of his fingers you stopped pumping your hand. 

You smile, kissing him again and finding a new pace with a stroke of your hand and a roll of your wrist, “You feel so good, baby,” 

“So do you,” He pants, and then he pushes two fingers inside your slick walls. 

You choke out a wine, pushing your hips forwards into his hand so he can go deeper. 

“God,” He holds you firm with his other hand, “you’re too tight,” 

“Too tight?” You huff, still working your hand over his cock, “never gotten that complaint before,” 

“Not a complaint, princess,” He teases, drawing his fingers out of your channel before thrusting back inside, “but I need to prep you a little, I don’t want to hurt you,” 

Your muscles clench down around his fingers. 

He laughs softly, “Oh, yeah, babygirl? You want me inside?” 

You nod, a whine trapped on your lips, “Cheol, please,” 

“Shh, shh,” He shifts, effectively sliding down the couch a little more while you slide up, and he rests his head on your shoulder and adjusts the angle of his arm so he can pump his fingers in and out of your channel at a steadier pace. He watches the way his fingers disappear inside you with rapt attention, cursing when he feels you grip down on him, “You want to come again?” 

“P-please,” You’re doing your best to keep working your hand, but at the way his fingers are curled inside you and pressing rhythmically against your sweet spot you think you’re about to see stars again. 

“Fuck, baby,” He sighs, “you’re so sexy,” 

All you can do is moan, grip down on his shoulder and let him have you. 

When he pushes in a third finger to stretch you, you gasp tightly at the sensation, the pleasure rocketing up your back and making your brain buzz. 

“Are you close?” He pumps his hand harder, finding your nearby nipple with his tongue and your body arches again. 

“Close,” You pant, your legs widening as you try to brace yourself, your hand falling away from his cock and gripping down on his thigh as the rolling wave of your orgasm starts to wash up over you. 

“Come for me,” He’s gripping you hard, like you belong to him and he wants only to please you, and his words combined with the way his hands lay on you leaves you coming apart at the seams. 

The sound of it is obscene, wet and filthy and pornagraphic and you’ve never in your life had sex with someone for the first time and had it be anything close to perfect. Your bodies want each other with such need. It's entirely outside your conscious brain, and you think if he can love your body like this then maybe he can love all the other parts of you, and you never want to let him go. 

Your orgasm hits you harder than the first, locking your body up in spasmodic elation, and he curls around you when you twist to make sure he works you through the crest of it, his hand only slowing down when the pulses of pleasure start to ease. 

When you come back to earth, you’re pressed face down onto the couch instead of up, your cheek against the cool fabric below you. Seungcheol is wrapped around your body like he’s glued to your back, and you feel his soft breath against your cheek and shoulder, his easy kisses on whatever part of you he can reach. His hand is still tucked underneath you and between your legs, cupping your cunt warmly and just holding you as you come down. 

“Cheol?” You murmur, your brain almost a little foggy at the heady feeling of two full body orgasms. 

“Hey, there you are,” He kisses you again, “feeling okay?” 

“Mm,” You nod, “so, so good,” 

He smiles, “Yeah? Did I get you?” 

You laugh against the cushions, shaking your head, “Babe, I just came so hard I blacked out,” your body stretches, pressing your core into the cup of his hand, “you definitely got me,” 

“Mm,” He rocks his hand and you sigh a little overstimulated sound, “should we stop here?” 

He doesn’t know, you realize it suddenly, he has no idea how badly you want him. He’s been so focused on your body, your pleasure, your wants, but you can see it now in the hesitation in voice that he still doesn’t know for sure if you want to be here with him or if you just wanted someone. 

He’s been touching you like it might be the only time, his only chance to have you and hold you in his arms. Didn’t he believe you when you said it wasn’t one night?

“Seungcheol,” You wriggle in his arms, “baby,” 

“What’s wrong?” He gives you the space to roll and you twist against him. 

You see his eyes when you turn, like he’s waiting for something and you curse yourself inside for not telling him like he was telling you. You smile, pushing his shoulder until he’s flat on his back, “What’s wrong is that you’re not inside me,” 

“O-oh,” He gasps as you hook a leg over his hips and straddle him, your body hovering over his prone cock. 

“Mhm,” You drop your body over him, your slick slit nestling directly over his cock, “but I’ve been so selfish,” 

He shakes his head to protest but you lay your fingers over his lips to stop him. 

“I want you, Cheol,” You drag your hips and find the head of his cock so you can dip and press it against your entrance, “so fucking much,” 

He’s breathing heavy against your hand, your eyes locked on eachother. 

“Do you understand what I’m saying?” You stay steady above him. 

He nods, just a little. 

“I’ve never wanted anybody like I want you,” You tell him, “never,” 

His lip quirks a little, a small smile as he presses a kiss to your fingers, “I’m all yours,” he whispers. 

You sink your hips back in one smooth flush motion, taking him inside you to the hilt without warning, and his head falls back as he moans. He’s stretching you out wide and full, his thick cock pushing into every spot inside you that you didn’t know could feel like this. 

“Oh my fuck,” Your body moves on it’s own, rocking your hips in a circle to take him deeper and roll your clit across his pubic bone, “Cheol, Cheol,” 

He blinks hard, finding your eyes at the sound of his voice, “Yeah?” 

You feel strangely like you might cry at the rush of endorphins, and you roll your hips again, whining out a need, “Hold me, please? Please, touch me,” 

Seungcheol softens, his hands unclench on the cushions below him and he coasts his warm hands over your thighs, your hips, up and down your sides, “I’m right here,” he murmurs. 

You relish in the feeling of it, and you direct them from their wandering comfort to a landing place on your hips, the perfect soft place for him to grip in with his fingers and keep you steady while you work him. He follows your lead, watching you above him with no hesitation, and his mouth falls slack when he watches you get your position right on your knees and lift up to draw his cock out of your warm, wet channel. 

“y/n,” He pants tightly. 

You sink back down hard and he groans, cursing and no doubt leaving a pretty bouquet of bruises where his fingers press down. 

“Your cock,” You moan as you bounce again, finding a steady rhythm, “you feel so perfect,” 

“Yeah?” He bounces you, teeth clenched as he tries not to come too early. 

“Made for me,” You grind down and jolt against the pleasure, “never felt something this good,” 

He groans, a hot pant of breath and then he stutters his hips upwards, “D-don’t, I’ll come,” 

“Good,” You sink down and back up, feeling him stretch you open again and again. 

“Come here,” He reaches up for you, tugging you down by your neck to get you close and you can feel him suddenly reposition and change the angle, take back control as he pins you to his chest and pumps his hips. 

The way his cock punches into you, curved and pressing directly into your g-spot, makes you choke out a moan and dig your nails into his chest. 

“Say you love my cock,” He pants suddenly in your ear, “if it feels so good, say it, tell me,” 

You moan sharply, “I fucking love your cock,” 

“Fuck yes,” His hand claps down on your ass and grips you tight as his hips piston upwards. 

“Ah, ah,” Your legs are trembling again, “I can’t,” 

“Yes, you can,” He pants, “I want to feel you come on my cock, babygirl, squeeze me,” 

Your eyes slam shut. 

“So fucking tight,” He breathes, “so wet,” 

“For you,” You choke out and hips stutter. 

“Oh, f-fuck,” He pushes up hard, but instead of thrusting he locks his hips there with your bodies pressed flush together and at the sound of his sudden moan, the way his hands lock tight on your body, the way warmth floods your belly, you know he’s coming. 

Your brain somersaults and you rock your hips, trying to keep catching the friction against your clit to help push you over the edge, “Ah,” you whine, “no, please,”  

He doesn’t go anywhere though, he just presses his hips up to keep giving you the pressure you need and holds your hips down with his broad hands, and you hear him hiss at the overstimulation but he groans and manages, “Come baby, you’re so close, there you go, there you go,” 

You’re saying something, but you can’t really hear it. All you can feel is the bubble about to burst inside you as you drag yourself fast and frantic against his body. You’re needy and seconds away, falling into trembles again.

  “So beautiful,” He mumbles, dragging your mouth up to his and locking you in a heady kiss. 

“Cheol!” You squeak against him, body cracking apart into shakes as you come, probably louder than you wanted to as you fall into the sweet space between his neck and shoulder. 

“I’ve got you,” His softening cock slides out as you come, but he slides a hand between your thighs and rubs fast circles on your swollen clit, “fuck, look at you, god, you’re such a mess,” 

Your brain is dizzy as he talks you through the edges of your orgasm. 

“So wet,” He bites down softly on your shoulder, “soaked for me and full of my cum, fuck,” 

As you collapse on his chest, your orgasm receding, his hand slows, but his fingers stay slipped between your folds in the messy mixture of your slick wetness and his release. You are a mess, but he seems to like it and if you’re benign honest so do you. 

“I’m so,” You breathe out, shaky and exhausted, “god, I don’t know,” 

“Mhm,” He sighs, and finally he slides his fingers out of you to rest on your hip, his other hand stroking a line up and down your back while you recover together. 

You need to get up, run to the bathroom and get the shower started, but you’re boneless and floating and he’s just the perfect temperature, so for a little while you don’t move. 

When he shifts his hips under yours to readjust your eyes pop open and you start to move, “Am I hurting you?” 

“Shh,” He wraps his arms around you and gathers you tight to his chest, “don’t you dare go anywhere,” 

“Yeah?” 

“You’re perfect,” He repeats and you smile against his skin, “next time I want you sitting on my face,” 

You laugh against him, “Next time?” 

He’s quiet, his fingers still dragging up and down your spine, “If you want,” 

You shift up in his arms, settling on his chest so that you can see his face, “So much,” 

He cups your cheek, brushing his thumb along your face, as he smiles, “I missed you, you know,” 

Tears prick at the back of your eyes and your throat goes thick, and you don’t trust your voice but you nod and press your lips to his, “I missed you too, all the time,” 

He gives you a moment, just staying calm and kind with his hands, and then he leans up to capture your lips once more, this kiss so much softer and more familiar from the frantic emotion a few minutes ago. His kisses travel from your lips to your forehead and then he smooths back the tangled mess of your hair, “We should get cleaned up,” he murmurs, “how are you feeling?” 

“Like I might not ever walk again,” You joke wryly. 

“I didn't hurt you, did I?” He leans to look you over, “I got a little carried away,” 

You shake your head, “No, I’m perfect, I promise,” 

“We didn’t talk much beforehand,” He notes, brushing his palm over the swell of your hip, dipping at your hip crease, and tracing up over again at the curve of your thigh, “I just want to be sure you’re feeling okay with everything,” 

“I’d tell you if I wasn’t,” You press, “you know I would,” 

“Good,” He sighs. 

You stretch on top of him, your knees aching from your curled position and you smile, “You want to get a shower? We can share the hot water,” 

“You’re insatiable,” He quirks an eyebrow at you. 

“Not for sex,” You slap his chest lightly as you climb off him, wincing at the sudden stretch of your knees, “I can barely move,” 

“I like a challenge,” He sighs, rolling off the chaise and stretching long and you catch yourself watching the strong flex of his back, the cut of his shoulders, the curve of his ass and his muscular thighs. 

Maybe you could rally. 

Seungcheol turns and his eyes flick over your body too, “Yeah,” he nods, “I think I can get one more out of you,” 

“My shower is shockingly small, so,” You reach for him, guiding him down the hall with you, “we’ll see,” 

“I said I like a challenge,” He shrugs, and all of a sudden you can’t stop laughing. 

Your shower is small, but in the end it doesn’t matter. Seungcheol ends up crouched on his knees anyways, with one of your legs hitched over his shoulder while he takes his sweet time with his tongue bringing you up to your softest, easiest orgasm of the night. You trade lazy kisses in the warmth after, the suds long gone and your fingers pruned by the time you fall into bed. 

You don’t have to ask him to stay, he just does. You talk for as long as you can keep your eyes open, stories of years ago when you saw him almost every single day. You whisper late into the night, until finally he falls asleep first, his head lolled to the side, but his hand still wrapped tightly around yours. 

You tumble into sleep right alongside him, his skin smelling of sweet peach and nectarine. 

In the morning, you wake up to something cold suddenly pressed to your cheek and you start to stitch together the world around you in quick threads. 

“Kkuma,” Seungcheol’s voice reaches you first, a hushed whisper as he tries to get his dog’s attention, “come here girl, let her sleep,” 

You groan a little, and you realize the something cold was Kkuma’s very wet nose against your cheek. Instead of listening to Seungcheol, she presses her nose to you again and follows it up with a lick, her panting excitement pushing you from laying on your side to your back as she collapses over your chest. 

“Kkuma!” He exclaims quietly, “down girl!”

Your eyes start to pop open, and this time you see his dog’s fluffy white face inches from your own, delighted that you’re awake. 

“Kkuma,” He tries to drop his voice to a lower tone to get her attention. 

“It’s okay,” You yawn, reaching up to scratch Kkuma behind the ears, “I’m awake now,” 

“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol moves into your bedroom, and you can see he’s fully dressed and has been for some time, “I didn’t think she would just jump on you like that,” 

Your brain is still a little sluggish and you rub your hand over your face, “Did you go home?”

He grins and nods at your sleepy question, the answer obvious from the dog on your chest, “Yeah, I needed to run home and take her for a walk, I hope you don’t mind I let myself back in,” 

“Not at all,” You smile up at him, “I’m just sad you’re not in the cuddle pile,” 

“We can fix that,” He tosses his beanie on your nightstand and then holds up a little carrier containing two coffees and a few little pastry bags, “and I bring gifts,” 

“From that place by your apartment?” You brighten, recognizing the stamped logos on the cups. 

“Mhm,” He passes over your cup, “sugar, no cream,” 

“You remembered,” You push yourself up in bed, Kkuma adjusting herself to snuggle into your side, and accept the cup, “thank you,” 

He lays his heavy denim jacket on the chair by your dresser and slips back into bed with you, dragging the covers back over both your legs, “Of course, I did, not that much could have changed in a year, right?” 

“Mm-mm,” Your legs slide together as you tuck under his arm and settle back into his chest. 

His fingers play with the ends of your hair while he sips his coffee, and then he sighs, “y/n,” 

Your stomach freezes and you wonder if you’re about to get let down easy. If waking up in the morning cleared his head, if a text from Mingyu changed his mind, if on the trip back to his place he worked out the right way to break your heart, if he practiced it out loud in his car with the dog. 

“What’s up?” You say, hoping you sound far more casual than you feel. 

“About Gyu,” He exhales heavy, his coffee leaning against his thigh as he gathers his words, “listen,” 

“Don’t,” You murmur, pressing your eyes closed, “please don’t go,”

“Go?” He asks. 

“I’ll tell him, and I know he’ll be fine after the shock wears off,” You twist in the bed to look up at him, “please just stay, last night was… Cheol, please just think about this,” 

His brows knit together tight in confusion and he sets his coffee on your bedside table to free up his hand and brush it along your cheek, “I was going to say, about Gyu, I’m meeting him for lunch at two. I’d like to tell him about us today,” 

“You what,” You blink. 

“I’d like to tell him that I picked you up after your date,” He says, “and that we got to talking, and that we kissed,” 

You can almost see Mingyu’s wide puppy eyes as he realizes where the story is going to go. 

“And that I asked you out on a date,” Seungcheol finishes, “and he’s going to ask me a lot of other questions which I definitely am not going to answer, except one thing,” 

You swallow nervously, your coffee almost tipping to the side forgotten in your hands until he plucks it up and sets it to the side. 

“He’s going to ask me if I’m serious about you,” He says calmly, like you’ve discussed this before, “and I’m going to say yes, but that’s the kind of thing you should know before your brother does.”

“You’re serious about me,” You say it back, your heart picking up as the words come off your tongue. 

“Yes,” He nods, unequivocal, “and I hope you feel the same way because before I drive across town and tell my best friend I’m in love with his sister, I just need to know if you feel even a tenth of that,” 

Your heart should be pounding, your stomach fluttering, your body flooding with emotion at the casual confession, but all you feel is calm. Mingyu told you once that life would fall into place, you just never thought you’d have that realization while it was happening around you. 

You try to keep a straight face when you say, “There’s only one problem,” 

“Okay,” He says, but you watch his hand fidget in his lap. 

“You never actually asked me out on a date,” You point out with a smile, “and I don’t want to lie to Mingyu about anything,” 

He grins, his tongue dragging against one side of his teeth as he shakes his head in disbelief, “You’re right,” he says, “that’s my mistake, will you go out with me?” 

“I’d love to,” You lean into him so you can press a quick kiss to his lips and take his hand in yours, lacing his anxiously twitching fingers with yours to hold him steady, “and if Gyu gives you any lip about this,” you kiss him again, “tell him I’m in love with his best friend,” 

“You are?” His fingers tighten on your hand. 

“Mhm,” You suddenly can’t keep your lips away from his, “and you tell him that if he does anything to ruin this, that I’ll make him sorry,” 

“Now that,” He laughs, “that I believe,” 

You pull him down to you and your body without another word, and with a hushed apology he pushes Kkuma off the bed so he can splay you out in the middle of the mattress. He takes you fast, hurried and full of need now that you have so much time ahead of you for slow. For now, you have a lot of catching up to do.

When you finally make it out of bed the coffee is cold and Seungcheol is late for lunch. 

kim mingyu’s (unhelpful) guide to losing your virginity

❝ you’re telling me that you, Miss Dick Repellent, had sex with Captain Chastity By Choice over here. ❞

PAIRING ▸ kim mingyu x fem!reader

GENRES ▸ smut, fluff, humor, college au, best friends to lovers au, friends with benefits au

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, alcohol consumption, rated m for mingyu, slow burn, he fell first but she fell harder but then he tripped and ate shit, probably the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written, mingyu and mc are both virgins, sexual content, sexual tension, protected and unprotected sex (i would not advise doing the latter), lots of teasing and banter, oral (f. and m. receiving), fingering, wall sex, couch sex, public sex, mingyu discovers what pasties are, soonyoung orders 20 connect fours, they are avid enjoyers of the barbie movies

SUMMARY ▸ after accidentally telling your friends that kim mingyu took your virginity (he didn’t), you’re shocked when he proposes to relieve you of the fabled v-card for good (he does).

PLAYLIST ▸ perfect by one direction • spell by niki • fatal flaw by ellise • give me a kiss by lolo zouaï • step? by bibi

WORD COUNT ▸ 31,273 words

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ someone (fia) once told me i write too many college aus. i said yeah ur right. and i’m gonna do it again

“BIRDS AND BEES CANNOT PHYSICALLY FUCK.”

You sounded more distressed than informative while you were trying to reason with your longtime best friend, Kim Mingyu. He, on the other hand, appeared visibly worked up over this childish level of argument you two were having.

“It is a metaphor,” he said. “Everyone knows birds and bees aren’t screwing each other up in the trees.”

You still couldn’t wrap your head around it. Hours ago, you had fucked yourself over after Kwon Soonyoung had casually brought up the topic of body counts. After everyone in your friend group went around listing theirs (Soonyoung: 3; Jungwoo: 3; Minghao: 2; Vernon: 5), you accidentally blurted out that your body count actually existed—one, to be exact.

This was a problem because, to everyone’s prior knowledge, you were a virgin.

Keep reading

I love this I feel like Mingyu would act like this lol

☆ MINGYU BOYFRIEND TEXTS

pairing: mingyu x f!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, hoshi cameo? pregnancy mention (pic 9), angst (pic 5+6)

a/n: this is a small gift for my baby seiu @atrirose because ik how much she loves (is obsessed w) her bf mingyu and because she's going through exams rn ^^ goodluck baby and i love you (≧◡≦) ♡

back to masterlist!

taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @lolalee24 @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse @enhacolor @honglynights @starry-mins @bibinnieposts @yoonzin0 @raevyng @hoeforcheol @pearlygraysky @4xiaojun @viscade @kikohao @enluv @smilehui @amxlia-stars

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

violently sobbing- this is adorbs

☆ WONWOO BOYFRIEND HABITS

pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: headcannons, fluff, established relationship

a/n: 6th part of the seventeen boyfriend habits series (requested) !! sent an ask to suggest the next member! ask to be on the taglist or fill out the form!

back to seventeen boyfriend habits masterlist!

☆ always offers you his shoulder to lean on whenever you yawn

you first met wonwoo in one of your classes, he was seated in the row just behind you. when one day, you were begging one of your friends to send you the notes because you had fallen asleep during your two hour long lecture, wonwoo slowly came forward and lent you his perfect notes, pushing his glasses up his note cutely. you thanked him and bowed so much it almost embarrassed him. after that day, wonwoo realized that you often fell asleep in class and his friend, your seatmate, told him that you normally didn’t get much sleep because of homework and your part-time job. he also realized you both took the same bus so after a lot of hyping up from his friends, he asked if you wanted to sit next to him. whenever you took the bus (with wonwoo by your side), your eyes would close minutes after being seated and your head would fall on his shoulder, leaving the poor boy frozen in place so as to not wake you up. you falling asleep on his shoulder soon became a habit and even years later, wonwoo would always offer you his shoulder whenever he saw you yawn.

☆ softly bites you when he gets the urge

all the people close close to wonwoo have been at least one time the victim of his biting habit. of course, it’s not that bad of a habit but it sure is unexpected. wonwoo, the guy who’s too shy to speak to people and who prefers staying home reading and playing video games over going out, biting people?! where did that nonsense even come from, that’s what you thought to yourself when one of your mutual friends warned you. the latter had noticed the two of you getting closer and thought he should tell you before it was too late (read: before you were going to get bitten). you just brushed it off and decided it was only a joke until you witnessed it yourself. and when a few days after that, you were laughing along with wonwoo and he leaned forward, teeth inches away from your arm, you could only nod confusedly as he seemed to ask for consent by making eye contact. it was a small bite and it didn’t hurt so when he retreated and blushed with an embarrassed smile, you just patted his head, confirming you weren’t mad.

☆ plays absentmindedly with your jewelry

wonwoo has always liked jewelry, he thinks it completes an outfit and he often finds himself stopping in front of jewelry stores. so when you two started dating, it was a given wonwoo would be obsessed with the way the jewelry would look on your skin, the pretty piece of accessory making you shine even more. his first gift to you was a piece of jewelry too and he sighed in relief when you jumped to give him a hug. it was with a big smile that wonwoo helped you put the accessory on. for wonwoo, you wearing the jewelry he’s gifted you is one of the greatest things in the world and he often stares at where the jewelry is, sometimes adjusting it when it’s not in place and sometimes just holding the little piece in his hand, always giving you a kiss close to where it is. and sometimes when he’s been staring at the accessory too long, his hand absentmindedly slips between the jewelry and your skin, playing with it between his fingers, a lovesick grin on his face at the feeling of your skin.

☆ warms up the towels before you shower after a long day

you and wonwoo started talking in the middle of the summer and officially started dating when winter was at its peak. wonwoo would often joke about how the winter helped you two get together and you laughed along every time, but sometimes you do in fact thank the coldest season for having played a big part in your relationship. it all started when the two of you got snowed in at his apartment after having been soaked by the snow a few hours prior. so when you finally arrived at his home, legs jelly from having sprinted, taking a shower was the first thing on your mind. and wonwoo let you go first, picking out some clothes of his you could wear, preparing some hot beverage for you and heating up your towel so that when you’re done, you wouldn’t have to worry about anything at all. it’s something that made you fall even more in love with wonwoo and you thanked him with a kiss, officializing the relationship. From that moment on, whenever you came back to your shared apartment after a long day, wonwoo would prepare everything after you slipped in the shower or bath, throwing your towel in the damper for a few minutes before helping you dry off when you were done.

perm. taglist: @0x1lovebot @fairybinie @blaqpinksthetic @odetoyeonjun @pockyandme @soobin-chois @soobisms @junityy @kaimal @laylasbunbunny @jaeyunverse

svt bf habits taglist: @baldi-2 @soov @ggyulicious @enhacolor @shuabby1994 @mariecoura @rosellerinfrost @jaemicr @just-here-to-read-01 @inmynewwrld @bigbossbennett @pearlygraysky

please do not copy, repost or steal any of my work. all content belongs to @odxrilove

Scented candles

[12:34 am ] wonwoo felt rustling on the sheets just to see you waking up from a bad dream . While you tried sleeping again you didn’t wanted wonwoo to wake up grumpy , just then your boyfriend took you in his arms .

“Baby are not sleepy anymore ?” He asked in his raspy voice you told him it was just a bad dream and you aren’t sleepy anymore . “Y/n what about lighting up some of your favourite scented candles ?”

You replied in a soft voice telling him it’s fine he should go back to sleep because he had a shoot tomorrow . Wonwoo insisted that If the soothing sound and smell could make you fall asleep so why not .

“Which one do you want bun ?” You replied him saying that vanilla and cinnamon would be a great choice . He lighted it up and soon came back to bed hugging you from back .

While he massaged and kissed your cheeks and shoulder you broke the silence and said “thanks babe .. im sorry if I woke you up I just had a very bad dream” wonwoo waved you off saying it’s okay he would be okay if you want to wake him up any time ..

Soon you started dozzing up while wonwoo carefully blowed the candle and he slept hugging you while he whispered “I love you y/n”.