Svt Fic Rec - Tumblr Posts

just call me Birdy :)

i read a lot.

➺ BTS Fic Recs part 2

❁ Kim Seokjin | Min Yoongi | Jeon Jungkook | Park Jimin | Kim Taehyung SOON

➺ TXT Fic Recs

➺SVT Fic Recs

➺ATZ Fic Recs

asks are always open! i’m more than happy to help try and find a certain fic for you if you have requests!

My goal is to be on someone’s fic rec list

I haven’t been in anyone’s recommended fica in so long🥹

i want you to cry, cry for me

ot13 » other groups » 💌 drabbles » 📝 writing » ao3

m — mature (smut 18+), f — fluff, a — angst, 💥 — popular, 💐 — personal favorite

『 choi seungcheol 』

➷ exes and oh's (m, f, a)

genre. smut, angst, ex f2l description. when your ex-best friend breaks up with your other ex-best friend, you’re stuck between keeping this door (that you never wanted closed) shut tight, and making amends. naturally, choosing to let your heart open to the person who ripped it apart isn’t the easiest of decisions, but life has a funny way of making you choose.

fucking in the bathroom (m)

『 yoon jeonghan 』

choking + thigh riding (m)

『 hong joshua 』

➷ mr. nice guy (m) 💥

genre. smut (18+), neighbors au

➷ isohel (m, f, a) — coming soon

genre. modern royalty au, slowburn, angst, fluff, smut description. coming soon

thigh riding (m)

mean dom shua (m)

sub shua (m)

pussy slapping (m)

[2:39] (m)

『 wen junhui 』

messy sex (m)

first time (m)

sharing a bed (m)

blowjobs in the car (m)

making out (m)

like crazy (w/c: 1.6k) (m) 💐

fucking in your childhood bedroom (m)

blowjobs (m)

pussy slapping (m)

『 kwon soonyoung 』

➷ crazy stupid love (m, f, a)

genre. f2l, fwb, minor angst, fluff

wall sex (m)

your first time (m, f)

riding him on the couch (m)

fingering you during an argument (a, m)

hickeys (m)

『 jeon wonwoo 』

➷ love you twice — pt.1pt.2pt.3 pt.4 (m, f, a)

*on hiatus* description. in which your extremely hot and sexy one night stand turns out to be your son’s teacher. naturally, chaos ensues, but you might just find love as your life continues to take an unexpected turn.

➷ desperate (w/c: 3.7k) (m, a, f) 💥

description. when your fiancé starts to get more and more busy, you naturally grow needy. it’s only after long game of cat and mouse that he finally gets you to fess up about what's been bothering you, and it's safe to say your answer is definitely not what he's expecting.

threesome w/ mingyu (m)

『 lee jihoon 』

hard dom jihoon (m)

[7:34] (f)

[8:56] (f)

『 lee seokmin 』

thigh riding (m) ✰

『 kim mingyu 』

➷ angel — pt. 1 pt.2 (m)

description. in which you're mingyu's girlfriend, so sweet and innocent that he can't help but ruin you.

➷ trust (fall) (m)

description. your boyfriend insists he’s strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time, but you have your doubts. of course, mingyu is more than ready to try and prove you wrong.

➷ to the brim (m, f) 💥

description. all your sweet husband wants is to put a baby into you—is that so bad?

balcony sex (m)

mocking him the morning after (m, f)

threesome w/ wonwoo (m)

no touching game (m)

[4:09] (f)

『 xu minghao 』

➷ the letter (m, f, a) 💐

genre. smut, slowburn, fluff, angst, childhood f2l, idol au description. in which you’re jun's little sister and have been pining for a man so close yet so out of reach for ages. now, years later, when you see minghao all grown up, famous, and still making your heart flutter, you're not so sure what to do about your not-so-little crush.

➷ red (k)nights (m, f)

genre. royalty au, fluff, smut

airplane sex (m)

pussy slapping (m)

holding hands (m, f) 💐

comfort sex (m, f)

『 boo seungkwan 』

kitchen sex (w/c: 1.4k) (m, f) 💐

corruption kink (m)

『 chwe vernon 』

showering together (f)

[10:12] (f)

『 lee chan 』

➷ time capsule — coming soon (f, a)

genre. f2l, angst, fluff, roadtrip au description. it’s been years since you and your high school friends buried a time capsule in your old soccer field. half a decade later, you all return to dig it back up and face the unspoken words that continue to run through your mind.

manhandling (m)

shower sex (m)

[9:14] (m)

blowjobs (m)

do not repost, copy, or modify my work.

when the devil drives.

pairing — jeonghan x fem!reader ft. bestie!joshua

word count — 23.7k

genres — road trip au, exes to friends with benefits to lovers, fighting as flirting, angst, fluff, smut (fingering, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, slight praise, cunnilingus)

warnings — toxic relationships, swearing and threatening language, explicit sexual content, they're both infuriating (yes that needs a warning, trust me)

summary — when your best friend breaks his leg and cancels your summer getaway, jeonghan turns up in his place to take you home from college on what was supposed to be a five hour car ride. except he has other plans, and you end up with more than you bargained for on a week-long road trip to nowhere with the cynical, silvertongued ex-boyfriend whom you're still kinda sorta in love with.

note — it's finally done. the bane of my existence. please enjoy the fic that made me so stressed that it delayed my period by like a week. on a lighter note, there's a playlist. enjoy <3

go to main masterlist | svt masterlist

THREE YEARS EARLIER.

The person in the mirror is not you.

The person in the mirror is beautiful when you’ve only ever felt pretty, mature even though you still feel like an overgrown child, and confident despite the fact that your heart is beating right out of your chest. Despite her makeover skills being limited to being practiced only on fortnightly dates, your mom has actually done an incredible job with you. Long hours of youtube video-watching and swatting you to remind you to sit still have finally paid off.

You trail your lilac-coated fingertips over your bare collar, marveling at the way your skin throws off light. It probably wouldn’t take much to convince your friends that it’s actually makeup instead of sweat doing the job, but it probably isn’t worth it. You stand up, looking down at the ruffled skirt of the purple dress you picked out at the mall weeks ago. Then, glancing back up at the mirror, you lift a hand to your arm, giving it a light pinch.

The yelp leaves your lips right as your mother opens the door to your bedroom, gesturing frantically with a makeup brush. “Honey, he’s here,” she informs you in a rapid hiss, looking as giddy as if it were her final prom night. “Get downstairs, quickly.”

“But my phone, and my purse—”

“They’re downstairs. First drawer of the credenza.” She slams the door shut before you can get a word in, leaving you standing in the middle of the room feeling even more alone than before.

You begin chewing on your bottom lip, and stop when you remember her specific instructions against ruining the lipstick. Smoothing down the ruffles with fluttering hands, you cast one last, yearning glance at the full-length mirror before going to the door, unlocking it gently and stepping outside.

The walk to the edge of the staircase is short, but it feels like more than an hour has passed by the time you get to it. You take a deep breath, clutching the balustrade with trembling fingers, and pause.

The noise had gone unnoticed by you earlier, owing to the anxious clamoring of overlapping thoughts in your head, but now if you pay attention you can hear your father’s stern tones, no doubt questioning your date at the front door. Anxious once more, you take a step back, wringing your hands. You carefully tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, running your hands over your skirt again, letting the texture of the ruffles calm you down. Okay, okay, I can do this, you think, placing the ball of your thumb between your teeth. It’s no big deal.

No big deal at all.

“Dad, quit grilling him,” you call out, and finally step into view. Your father looks up, and so does the poor boy he’s been cross-examining for who knows how long. You feel your face heat up at suddenly being brought into the spotlight, but manage a small smile.

You think you see your dad’s eyes misting over, but then your eyes automatically stray over to the person whose reaction you’ve been anticipating more. Your date is standing there slack-jawed, the top of his slightly-loosened tie visible as the bouquet of roses in his hands droops from inattentiveness. 

“Hi,” you say shyly, pleased at his reaction. Then, raising your hands above your dress, you give him a slow twirl. “So,” you say breathlessly, “how do I look?”

Jeonghan’s eyes are bright with fervor, the grip on the plastic cover around the flowers tighter than before, which you can tell by the way the blood has receded from his knuckles.

And he doesn’t say anything at all.

NOW.

“And done,” you say, slapping the end of the packing tape on the side of what you hope is the last carton. Then, still squatting, you place a hand on the side and lean back to examine your handiwork. To your dismay, the end of the tape has already begun to curl. "You think that’ll keep?"

"Absolutely," your roommate, Mina, hums in a way that tells you she isn’t listening. You glance back at her exasperatedly, and she gives you an apologetic grin. “Listen, I’m beyond caring at this point. That was the last of them, right?”

“Checklist.” You point at her, and she sighs, her acrylic nails tapping against the glitzy pink clipboard in her hands. 

“Yes, mother.”

Straightening, you place your hands on your hips and survey the area like the captain of a ship sailing into unknown waters. Your shared room, which had once been a safe haven strewn with comforters and fluffy rugs, is now overrun by corrugated cardboard boxes, some bulging and some rattling, almost all sealed unevenly with old dried-up tape. You rub your creased forehead. “I feel like we should’ve gotten professionals to do this work for us. The RA even recommended someone who gives out discounts for people who move before summer.”

“Are you kidding? We did a pretty bang-up job, considering this was all last-minute, and for free too,” Mina exclaims. “Plus, I would never trust a stranger with my ceramic dolls.” 

“You wouldn’t trust me with them, and I’ve been holding your hair up while you vomited in the toilet for months,” you complain. “Did we pack everything?”

She hums under her breath again, chewing on her bottom lip as her eyes roll down over the checklist. “I think so. Did you finish packing?”

“Yep.”

Mina looks sideways at one corner of the room, where your lone olive-green suitcase sits flush against the wall. “I still don’t understand how you’re going to survive a whole summer on just that.”

“It’s not a whole summer,” you correct. The thought of leaving fills you with a buzzing excitement, and you have to bite your lip to stop the smile from unfurling like a banner over your face. “Just a couple of weeks out in nature. And maybe a few motels. Neither place really requires much clothing.”

She makes a face, but dismisses the line of conversation with a wave of her hand. “Whatever you say,” she says. "Now, help me push these out into the hallway?"

You groan, but oblige. It’s mostly your fault that the two of you had to pack everything yourselves, since you picked the last possible day to move out before you’d have been thrown out of the dorms. Most of your stuff is already gone, but as a dutiful roommate, you’d promised Mina that you’d help her out before leaving for the summer. So, here you are, running on less than three hours of sleep, having spent most of this morning and the night before squeezing piles of clothes into boxes and folding bubble wrap like splints.

When you’re done, Mina takes the elevator down with you, and the sole suitcase you’re carrying feels even lighter than it is after all the boxes you'd been lugging around. When the metal doors slide open at the ground floor, you let go of a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

Mina pats your hand. Her clipboard is still tucked under her arm. “Don’t be so worried.”

You let out an uncertain laugh that fades quickly into a grimace, fingers clenched tight around the handle of your suitcase. “Why would I be worried?”

She pries your fingers out of their vice-like grip. “Exactly,” she says, grabbing the handle in your stead and pulling the suitcase out of the elevator, leaving you to awkwardly follow along, not quite knowing what to do with your hands. “After all your unfounded confidence in your packing and planning skills, it would be a shame if you lost faith in them now.” You can’t help but smile a bit at that, but for some reason, you still feel squeamish. “We’re not late, are we?”

Pushing your irrational anxiety aside, you hurriedly check your watch. “Well, um, a little,” you say with a shrug, “but Josh makes it a point never to show up until it’s fifteen minutes past our appointment.”

“So it’s all dandy then,” she says, her voice a bit further away, and when you look up you realize that she’s more than just a few steps ahead of you despite the heels and the suitcase, and you hasten your step. “Just make sure to check your pockets for condoms—”

“Mina.”

“—and your phone and wallet, and pepper spray.” She catches the stern look on your face. “You know, just in case.” She stops suddenly, and you almost trip over your own luggage. You look up at her in exasperation, but stop short upon noting the confusion on her face. “Is that Joshua?”

You follow her gaze across the parking lot, and spot the unmistakable blue Corolla parked a couple spots over. There’s a figure leaning against the side, his stark blonde hair makes the heated air shimmer like a halo over his head. Your first thought is oh, he dyed his hair. Your second is that’s not Joshua.

“What?” Mina looks confused, even as she falls into step beside you as you begin to stalk your way through the lot. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing yet,” you mutter as you reach the car. The blonde looks up, and your heart jumps into your throat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The boy who is not Joshua tilts his head questioningly. “Why the cold reception?” Jeonghan asks. 

You raise your eyebrows, incredulous, and are just about to open your mouth to elaborate on just why he’s getting a cold reception when Mina places a placating hand on your arm. “Hi, I’m Mina,” she says, putting on a bright smile, no doubt to outweigh the dark glare you’ve directed at his face. “The roommate.”

“Jeonghan.” He inclines his head with a neutral yet pleasant smile of his own, glancing at you. His smile falls almost comically upon seeing the expression on your face. “The…”

“You didn’t answer my question,” you interject, relentless. Mina is looking more and more discomfited by the second, but you scarcely notice. 

“The ex,” Jeonghan completes. He then turns to you, raising a cool eyebrow. “I thought you knew,” he says.

“Knew what?” You demand. 

He straightens, slowly drawing his hands out of his pockets, and you almost regret asking the question. Always the dramatics, you think bitingly. “That there’s been a slight change of plans.”

There was a time you thought you could trust Joshua Hong.

For the major part of your life, he had been the one person you could rely on for (mostly) everything, even when that something involved needing someone to catch you when you snuck out your window at 2 a.m., or knowing you’d always have a clean band-aid to use if you scraped your knee biking through a junkyard.

That time was approximately a minute and twenty seconds ago, when you hadn’t pulled out your phone with its unrepaired crack and checked the unread messages—the most recent of which were from him. It says sorry, and that he’s broken his leg and won’t be able to drive you from your dorm for the planned road trip. The crack lands right over the word sorry.

You know it’s been a minute and twenty seconds because you’ve been counting.

It’s like a bubble has burst inside your chest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you mumble softly, clenching your fingers tighter around your poor phone, which might end up with another crack if you squeeze it any further. “And he couldn’t tell me this before.”

“So you’ve been saying,” says the unwelcome replacement Joshua sent in his place. Jeonghan doesn’t have a trace of sympathy on his face as he folds his arms across his chest and checks the time on his watch. “Not to sound like an asshole, but it’s already three o’clock. We were supposed to be in town before dark, and it’s at least five hours from here.”

His voice is flat, utterly unsympathetic to your frustration. You’re still reeling, which is the only reason you don’t snap back immediately. It’s bad enough that your best friend isn’t here after all the work that went into planning and budgeting your trip, but Yoon Jeonghan’s presence is like salt on the wound. 

Maybe you’d say something snarky if it hadn’t been eight full months since you’d last talked to him. If the anger from your last conversation hadn’t faded over the long months and turned into something more…malleable. Manageable, as if you could ever have associated the word with him, with the feeling that you were swallowing hot coals every time you looked at him. You still remember the last time you talked to him in painstaking detail, and as you realize that fact, the memory comes rushing back, alongside the feeling that you’re going to throw up.

“So...that’s it?” You don’t know if you’re supposed to be nice to him. Exes have never before been an issue for you because you’ve never really had one before. “Joshua breaks his leg, so he sends you over.” Like nothing ever happened between us, you want to say, but your tongue seems to curl up when you try. “As a stand-in?”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and you can tell he’s holding back some words of his own. “Call it what you want, sweetheart,” he says, and you feel like you’ve been slapped across the face.

Part of you knows that he’s just trying to rile you up, but unfortunately, he’s had a lot of practice at it, so it’s working. You find yourself wishing that you hadn’t sent Mina away with nothing more than a short hug and a few words, but ever since you spotted Jeonghan across the parking lot you’ve been feeling about as steady as a salt shaker. Some support right now would’ve been nice.

Your fingers unclench from around the phone. There’s two ways this could go—the good way, in which both of you pretend that nothing ever happened, or the bad way, and you don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be. Jeonghan has never been a patient person, but right now, even as you stand silently in front of him after months of no contact, he seems unresponsive. Something hurt and hungry rears its head inside you at his hollow indifference, and you taste a familiar venom at the back of your tongue.

But you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. 

“Why are you doing this?” you ask instead.

Jeonghan shrugs. You’re not sure if you just imagined the tension going out of his shoulders. “I owed Joshua a favor.”

You raise your eyebrows. “You expect me to believe that?”

His lips thin. “Would you believe me if I said it was a big favor?” he asks casually, but his shoulders are tense again.

You’re aware of the intensity with which you’re watching him, and the fervence with which he’s avoiding your gaze. “No.”

“Figured.” He looks away right before you manage to catch the look in his eyes. “Is that all you’re carrying, or…?”

You look back at your olive green suitcase, the handle still pulled out, lying forgotten a couple of steps away from you. You don’t remember having moved towards Jeonghan during the course of your conversation, and you’re surprised enough by the realization that your chest tightens for a second. “That’s all,” you say numbly, and Jeonghan turns to pull open the car door.

“Well, then, we don’t have all day,” he says, gesturing to the seat. You feel a twinge of irritation again, but say nothing, roughly grabbing the suitcase handle and yanking a door open. Asshole, asshole, asshole, you chant in your head. This is going to be the worst drive of your life.

Even worse, you find it impossible to fall asleep.

Somehow, it’s not the noise. Jeonghan doesn’t whistle, and he doesn’t turn on the radio, or try to make small talk that would make you want to tear your hair out. He remains perfectly silent, not saying a single word to you after starting the car, not even an offer to stop by a corner store or for a drink of water. It’s been some time since the loud city faded into empty, expansive grasslands on either side of the highway, but you’re still wide awake.

Maybe it’s the silence that keeps you up, or whatever it is that it implies. You’re on edge, and your mind is churning, struggling between being mad at Joshua or being mad at Jeonghan or being mad at yourself for giving a shit. You’re still so shaken by Jeonghan’s sudden reappearance that you haven’t even begun to process anything else.

I’m going home, you think numbly, but even that thought evokes only a dull response in you. You think about the weeks building up to the summer, the calls with your dad. Your not-so-meticulously packed suitcase lies in the car’s boot, probably collecting dust if you know anything about the state of Joshua’s car. Much like all your dreams of summer. No beers, and no swimming pools, and certainly no Joshua.

You look over at Jeonghan again, but he doesn’t even seem to notice. You must be in a daze, because for a moment, you think about leaning over and nudging him.

What makes seeing him so much worse is that he looks almost exactly the same as he used to. The same hands, the same eyes, even his hair is still bleached the same silvery-white. The first button of his white shirt is opened, revealing a sliver of tanned skin inside. He always wore pressed shirts and sweater vests—and here a venomous thought enters your mind—when he really should be wearing a straightjacket instead.

When you knew him a year ago, he had been beautiful, but it was a beauty that was yours to possess, to kiss and to touch and to hold. He’s still beautiful, but now it’s the kind of beauty that makes him untouchable. The kind that belongs behind a glass pane, like a fragile display made out of cards or glass or papyrus in a museum exhibit that you would stare at with wonder in your eyes, yearning to reach out but holding yourself back knowing that a single touch could send it crashing to the floor. No, you can’t allow yourself to touch him now.

So you cross your arms, tuck your fingers under your biceps, and turn to glare out the window instead.

You switch with him after the first stop at a gas station.

“I’ll be right back,” Jeonghan had told you before heading in, and you’d taken the opportunity to get out and stretch your legs. When he comes back carrying a plastic bag from the convenience store, it takes him a few minutes before he notices standing forlornly in front of a tree.

“What?” he asks, only half curious. It’s a tall three, thick-trunked, with segmented branches that end in spiky gray-green leaves that make it look like a high school rocker with too much hairspray.

“It’s a Joshua tree,” you reply mournfully.

“Oh my god,” he mutters, and you turn to him with an evil look in your eye as you begin the walk back to the car. “He broke his leg, not his neck.”

“Of course it’s all the same to you,” you fire back. Jeonghan unlocks the Corolla with short, sharp movements that show his exasperation, and tosses the keys to you. You catch them, going around to the driver’s seat, as he leans in and pushes against the lumpy plastic bag, trying to make space for it on the dashboard. “A broken leg is pretty painful.”

“More painful for you than him, apparently,” Jeonghan grunts. With a final push, he manages to make the bag stay, and climbs into the car, shutting the door behind him before pulling on the seatbelt. He turns to look at you with his forehead furrowed as the car starts rolling forward. “I thought you wouldn’t want to drive.”

“Why, because you think I’m sulking?” you ask, offense creeping into your voice. Your neck is already coated in sweat, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the weather or just a bodily reaction to your feelings.

“I’d say it’s normal to be upset about your best friend being hurt.” Jeonghan shrugs.

“I’m not upset about that,” you snap. 

“You’re not upset about your best friend being hurt?”

“I am. I just mean—” You break off, irritated. The sweat is now drying because of the hot air coming in through the open tops of the windows, making your skin itch. You just twist your shoulder backwards, unwilling to let go of the steering wheel because if you do, you might just sock Jeonghan in the mouth. “It kind of brings things to a halt. For both him and me.”

Jeonghan leans against the side. “I wouldn’t call one canceled trip bringing your life to a halt.”

Your head is beginning to hurt. “You’re right,” you say testily. “It’s just really fucking inconvenient.”

“Inconvenient?” he echoes. “You get to go home to sweet Joshua. Nurse him through his grievously traumatic injury. It could be a bonding experience, unless you’re bent on calling the poor incapacitated boy an inconvenience.”

“I never—” You grit your teeth, forcing down your rising anger. The heat has begun to crawl like a swarm of fire ants, up your neck and down your back. “I’m surprised he only broke his leg,” you say savagely. “Considering that he thought of sending you in his place, instead of literally anyone else, I wonder how he didn’t get a concussion instead.”

Jeonghan laughs. “All this anger over a little road trip? What exactly were the two of you planning to do, pray tell? I feel like I’m missing out.”

You kiss your teeth, thinking better of responding with another biting comment. Your skin is sweaty and itchy and hot and there’s still a good four hours before you get home. Going at it with him isn’t going to help your mood. You tell yourself that it’s been eight months, you’ve grown, you’ve become a better person. You’re not going to fall for his bait.

Then Jeonghan says, “You could always tour his bedroom.”

In your head, you slam on the brakes, bringing the car to an immediate halt for dramatic effect. In real life, however, you’re painfully aware of how Jeonghan’s lack of a seatbelt would send him flying into the windshield, so you slow down before coming to a rolling stop at the side of the road. Your throat feels like hot lava.

“Really?” the perpetrator asks, raising an eyebrow. “It’s the witless bedroom comment that gets you?”

You clench and unclench your jaw a couple of times, trying to bring your temper down, but to no avail. Your hands on the wheel are unusually tight, as if trying to close into complete fists around it, so you have to forcefully pry your fingers apart before you unlock the door and step out of the car.

Jeonghan copies your movements, getting out of his seat to lean over the hood of the car, his posture suggesting curiosity rather than sympathy. His lips part, no doubt in preparation to say something to push you over the proverbial edge, and warning bells go off inside your head.

“Shut up,” you snap, and he recoils, blinking in surprise.

“I didn’t—”

“Shut up,” you repeat decisively, turning to level your gaze at him like the tip of a sword. “I didn’t ask for you to be an ideal travelling companion, but the least you could do is shut the fuck up.”

Jeonghan says nothing, but his eyes stay on your face, intent and oddly unnerving. You force yourself to look away lest you give away some kind of weakness in your expression—being civil is your best bet to last the duration of the ride, but this is still a push-and-pull. With him, it always is.

“This was supposed to be the last summer we had before graduating and getting jobs and moving to different parts of the country,” you say through clenched teeth. “It wasn’t even going to be that big of a deal—just being on the road for a few weeks with each other for company, having no responsibilities, no destinations, and no deadlines. And then he had to go and fuck himself over, and fuck me over in the process, and now it’s weeks and weeks of work gone to waste, and all I’ve been looking forward to is dust. And on top of that, you had to come in and do what you do best, which is twist everything I say and make me feel like shit about it like it's your god-given right to ruin my life. So, yeah, it’s the fucking—” 

The anger seems to have gone out of you somewhere towards the end, and you feel yourself deflate like a pricked balloon. “And it’s so fucking hot, too,” you mumble, burying your face in your hands. Then, face still covered, you laugh, feeling ridiculous and petulant like a child after throwing a temper tantrum about a broken toy. “Sorry. I’m sorry. It’s not your fault for having to drive me, and it’s not Joshua’s fault for getting his goddamned leg broken. I’m just…” You struggle to find the right words to express your frustration, but ultimately give up. “It’s so hot,” you whisper.

Your face burns, and you’re no longer sure if it’s from anger or embarrassment. It’s unusual for you to lose your composure, but you must have been more affected by this than you had imagined. Or maybe it’s just Jeonghan bringing out the violence in your emotions again.

Speak of the devil. Jeonghan steps around the front of the car and comes to a stop in front of you, hands very still at his sides, yet tensed as if they’re about to move. Suddenly you feel very tired, and very, very small.

“Let me drive the rest of the way.” His tone is gentler than you expected, but you’re still not brave enough to meet his eyes. He hesitates, like he’s about to say something else, but then his lips press into a thin, concerned line. You remember that expression from years ago, his eyes warm, a hand reaching over to curl around yours. Now, it just feels alien.

“Get some rest,” he finally says, and you don’t have the heart to fight back.

It’s been half an hour, and you still haven’t said a word to each other. Whatever pretense of cordiality you thought could be preserved is gone—if it had even existed in the first place—and the tension in the air is thick enough that you could carve something out of it. You’re beginning to get a little tired of the silence, now that the noise in your head has begun to quiet down just enough so you can actually think.

At least he’s turned the air conditioner on, which is a small mercy. You don’t know how you forgot about it before, but it probably had something to do with your rising irritation and the complete lack of awareness due to your blinding rage. Maybe if you’d just retained enough sense to turn the stupid freaking air conditioner on, you wouldn’t have had a loud, embarrassing breakdown in the middle of the freeway.

“I can hear your internal monologue from all the way over here,” Jeonghan says, making you start. It’s almost as if he actually can hear every single one of your thoughts—which shouldn’t be so surprising, considering your history. Your heart’s startled palpitations turn into a painful squeeze. “Stop thinking so hard and get some sleep.”

“It’s not like I’m not trying,” you mutter. “I’m just…restless.”

“Can’t wait to get home?”

You scoff. “Yep,” you say, dragging the syllable sarcastically. “Can’t wait to get home.”

Jeonghan catches your eye in the rearview mirror. There’s something quietly thoughtful brimming behind his eyes, and although you can’t quite put your finger on why, it makes you sit a bit more easily. It could be that you’re glad he isn’t too mad at you—people pleaser that you are—but it’s more likely that the look is…familiar. Familiar enough that relaxing in reaction to it is an instinct your body hasn’t gotten rid of just yet. Fucking biology. “We don’t have to go home if you don’t want to,” he says with pretend nonchalance, looking away.

You laugh, a little sadly, and uncross your arms to rub your hands down your biceps. “Where else am I supposed to go?”

It’s quiet for another moment. This time, it’s you who can almost hear the gears turning in Jeonghan’s head. You can’t help but anticipate what he’s going to say. “I don’t know,” he says, voice so muted that you have to look at his mouth to make sure you can correctly make out what he’s saying. “Where were you planning to go with Joshua?”

Your breath catches in your throat. “No,” you say firmly right as he asks the question, your voice a little rough and more than a little hoarse. You’re sitting stock-still now, like you touched a live wire and have been electrified in place. “Don’t even think of going there.”

He shrugs, and you can see the slightest hint of tension in his neck muscles when they flex with the movement. “If we take the highway, there’s a motel about half an hour from—”

“Don’t,” you say through your teeth. He’s still not looking at you. “Jeonghan, stop it.”

“Two days,” he says, unrelenting. His eyes finally flicker to yours, and you feel something stutter in your heart when you see the first hint of genuine emotion in his expression. The first time in eight months. “If we take the U-turn up ahead and keep going, it takes two days to lead up to the bay. Just two days. We could stay in a bed-and-breakfast, and if you still want to go back after that, I’ll take you home. No stops.”

You swallow back the dry patch in your throat. It feels wrong to see him like this, so eager when he greeted you with all the warmth of an icicle just a couple hours ago in the parking lot behind your apartment building. You know some part of it is because of your unintended meltdown in the middle of the road an hour ago, but the whole proposal reeks of pity.

“Not funny,” you say shakily.

“I’m not joking,” comes the simple reply.

“What’s the catch?” you ask sharply. “Not even half an hour ago you were letting me know exactly what you thought of road trips and risks. Why the sudden change of heart, huh, Jeonghan? If you tell me it’s because you feel guilty, I swear to god I’ll punch you.”

“Well,” he starts, lifting a single shoulder, “I don’t really have anything better to do. And if I take you home right now your mom will definitely make me stay for dinner, which would be awkward for both of us.” He shrugs. “And…maybe I want to spite Joshua. For breaking his leg playing soccer with little kids, and making me come all this way just to pick up an ungrateful little alley cat who could’ve just taken the bus.” 

You lapse into silence for a few moments. Then: “He really broke his leg playing soccer with little kids?”

“Yes,” Jeonghan replies, but not without an eye roll to accompany it. He looks at you then. “So what will it be, sweetheart?”

You know in your heart that there’s only one right answer to that question, and it’s a resounding no.

But then, if you’d been sensible enough to listen to your heart, you probably wouldn’t have ended up five hours away from home in a shitty old college majoring in fucking math of all things. So of course you tell him to turn the car around.

Jeonghan has always been an ass with apologies.

Which is ironic, because ever since you first met him, you’d known that he had the gift of the gab (for lack of a better phrase). His talents had always been in lying and talking and picking exactly the right quote from a classic text to make himself sound smart—which, admittedly, he is. He went from making people pay him to write their college essays and down the natural pipeline to majoring in literature at a fancy place. He’s always been good at making you angry, but you don’t think he’s ever figured out how to make things right. Or care enough to work for it.

So when Jeonghan knocks on the door and you open it to find him with a beer bottle in his hand, you’re only slightly surprised to see it. 

When he comes in, his eyes go straight to the double bed. He steps inside the room (at the first motel you’d seen which advertised running hot water, which makes no damn sense anyway because it’s over a hundred degrees outside and neither of you is taking a hot bath anytime soon, but whatever). The blades of the ceiling fan spin lazily, barely even disturbing his hair.

“The speed for the fan doesn’t go beyond three, and the air conditioner only works between seven and seven,” you inform him as you sit back on the bed, your suitcase open on the mattress in front of you. 

Jeonghan nods, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing. He’s probably not used to this kind of place at all, but if you’re going on the road with him, you’re not pulling your punches. You’re happy enough with the arrangements yourself, being accustomed to living in even worse conditions. His description of you as an ungrateful little alley cat wasn’t far from the mark. It could always be worse, but you don’t tell him that.

You’d decided against calling your parents—or Joshua—to inform them about your change in plans, and had instead chosen a few simple texts to convey the information. They trust you enough to deal with your last-minute changes, but you know that there’s going to be a lot of questions about your choice of companion when you get back. Those questions, however, you can confidently avoid thinking about at least until you get back. And as for Joshua—he should’ve known better, you think primly. 

“I’m sorry,” Jeonghan says suddenly, breaking you out of your reverie. The beer bottle sits guilty in his grip. Gotcha, you think. “For riling you up in the car. Being around you kind of triggers my fight or flight instinct, and I’ve never been much of a runner. Heaven knows my dad tried, though.”

You half smile in acknowledgement. His expression is awkward, which makes your smile widen. The apology in no way makes up for your history, but now that you're already halfway through your decision, you decide to put him out of his misery and call a truce.

Leaning forward, you take the beer he offers you, raising it in his direction like a salute. “You’re good enough with words to make up for your lack of athletic ability,” you say, making the corners of his lips curl up. “And the pen is mightier than the sword, as they say. Care for a sip?”

He shakes his head no. “Can’t blame you,” you say, nodding sagely as you casually uncap the bottle with your teeth. “Beer does taste like piss when warm.”

“Or cold. Or room temperature,” he says. “I don’t know how you manage to keep it down.”

“Needs must.” You grin, patting the empty space on the mattress next to you, and he indulges your request. “So, I was thinking about what you said,” you start, taking a square of paper from between folded clothes and books in your unzipped suitcase, and unfolding it. “I’ve been going over the route Josh and I picked out for the trip, but I thought of making some changes.” You run your fingertips over a squiggly blue line marked on the map, and tap a spot outside it. “We could visit the museum. Take a meandering route, make a few stops here-and-there before we actually get to the bay.”

Jeonghan peers over your shoulder. “That’s about eight hours from here.”

“Mhm,” you say, putting the lip of the bottle to your mouth and taking a gulp. You make a face as you swallow. “Damn. I thought it was kind of clichéd, but warm beer really does taste like piss.”

“I did warn you.” He’s stiffened a bit. You sniff the air, wondering if something stinks. 

“Well, uh,” you mutter under your breath, and bring the bottle back up to your lips with slow, careful motions. “We could make a few pit stops over here, and go to the shore later. Then there’s the wharf.” Your fingertip moves over the map.

Jeonghan looks at the spot you’re pointing at. His gaze shifts to your hand, then up over your arm, all the way to your bared shoulder—which you realize is mere inches from his face. 

He’s stopping breathing, as if afraid to exhale on your skin. You open your mouth to make a joke, but it dies in your throat. Your mouth remains open, no words coming out. Jeonghan lifts his eyes up to yours, and you feel your heart jump. The scent of green apple shampoo envelopes you.

Something thumps on the roof above. Jeonghan looks up, and you take the opportunity to nimbly shift away. “Do you think that was a rat or a person?” you wonder aloud.

“I’m not sure which I’d rather have it be,” he answers, getting to his feet. You look up at him, the beer bottle in your hand barely empty, but you’re already feeling lightheaded. “Dinner?”

Dinner is uneventful. You usually hate forcing pointless conversations, but now you find yourself broaching all kinds of topics from the weather to the food to the ketchup stain on the waiter’s apron.

Jeonghan is polite, laughing at the right moments and nodding along when you need him to listen, but you feel fidgety on the worn leather seat that you normally would have sunk comfortably into. The long-drawn conversation makes you feel like you’re talking to a stranger, not someone you’ve known for the most part of your life. Not for the first time, you mourn a friendship that has seemingly dissolved after your break-up.

By the time the two of you walk back, it’s almost ten. You pass under more than a few flickering streetlights, but they are more than made up for by the neon signs that begin to light up after dark.

When you get back to the room, all you can think about is the double bed. How convenient, you think to yourself, more than a little miserably when you think back to the tiny moment you shared while looking over the map. While you’ve moved on from Jeonghan, your body clearly hasn’t, if the way it reacted to his scent is anything to go by. And you have moved on. Why else would you be so comfortable basically running away with him?

“I hope the lock works,” Jeonghan mutters to himself as he locks the door for the night. You’re less confident, so you zip your bag back up and push it flush against the white door, propping the handle against the top.

Your phone rings, and you take it out, checking the caller ID. Joshua. You look up, and find Jeonghan looking at you, his face blank. Feeling unsettled, you reject the call, and put your phone away.

Now that it’s just the two of you with no dinners or strangers or ketchup stains to distract your conversations, the two of you fall into a pregnant silence. Jeonghan thumbs the collar of his shirt idly, looking at the bed with a glazed-over expression. You sidle by the bed and place a pillow in the middle, then stand back to survey your work.

“It looks like a face,” Jeonghan says.

“We can share the blanket,” you allow. For all the burning heat of the mid-afternoon sun, you know that the nights in the desert are cruelly cold, especially so within the paper-thin walls of the motel room. “Do you want to keep the fan on?”

“I’m good.” For some reason, Jeonghan looks ill. “You know…I just realized I don’t have a single change of clothes.”

You take a good look at his current attire, and it’s definitely not an excuse to stare. He’s wearing a plain white shirt, as you noted before. It’s fitted but billows faintly about his frame, making him look like a prince of old. His hair falls in soft blonde waves down to his neck, brushing the very top of his collar, and a few stray strands frame his face. Even though the harsh fluorescent lights draw the color from his face, the sheen of sweat over his cheekbones make them shine. You watch, transfixed, as Jeonghan’s fingers slip from the collar to the undone button, the pad of his thumb shaping the outline of it.

And he’s also wearing jeans. The jeans are reusable, you think, blinking yourself out of your stupor. Get a hold on yourself. But you can already pick out the stained collar of his shirt with ease. “We can go shopping tomorrow,” you suggest, clearing away the thickness of your voice. “Restock your supply of Walmart t-shirts.”

He looks at you with narrowed eyes, and you allow yourself a smile.

When all the blinds are all drawn and the lights turn off, you’re the first under the blankets. The pillow you’d ceremoniously placed down as a barrier between the two of you is flush against your back as you curl into yourself. You feel the mattress dip and the bed frame creak as Jeonghan gets into bed. It feels strange to have him in the same bed again, something you used to yearn for, now something so strange and troubling.

“Neighbors are loud,” he states, his voice muffled. You curl your fingers into the bedspread, and sigh silently before turning on your side so you’re facing him. Sure enough, now that you’re paying attention you can hear party music bleeding in from the room next to yours.

Jeonghan is nothing more than a dark outline against the sparing light that seeps in from under the door. “G’night,” you say softly. Softer than you intended, anyway. You bite your lip and duck your head under the blanket, feeling inexplicably schoolgirlish.

With the way your heart beats in your chest, it sounds almost as loud as the music coming from next door. You’re almost worried about him hearing it, but if he does, he doesn’t betray a thought. There’s no way I’m falling asleep like this, you think to yourself, but it doesn’t take more than a few minutes before you’re at the soft edges of sleep.

“Good night,” Jeonghan whispers back, just as you begin to drift off.

True to your word, the first place you put on your list of shopping locations is the local Walmart.

“You know I intend to wear these newly-acquired clothes outside of this trip, right?” Jeonghan complains as you browse a rack of t-shirts that advertise themselves as being up to fifty percent off! “You’re wasting your time if you think I’m going to spend my well-earned money on anything here.”

“May I remind you, mister, that this whole trip thing was your idea?" you ask, pulling out a tie-dyed shirt that’s a swirl of shades of peach and baby blue, and holding it up in front of his frame with an appreciative hum. “Plus, don’t you feel gross in your sweaty old underwear? This could be the splash of color your wardrobe so desperately needs.”

Jeonghan looks unimpressed. He pushes the tie-dye down, looking over it at you with a shake of his head. “I know better than to trust your choices, even those made with good intentions. And your intentions at the moment are clearly not good,” he emphasizes. “Anyway, this is not the underwear section.”

You raise your eyebrows, and look behind you pointedly at what is, actually, the underwear section. Jeonghan follows your gaze to the display of Fruit of the Loom underwear. “No, nope,” he murmurs. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too good for Walmart underwear, are we?” You wrinkle your nose, but don't press the issue, moving instead towards another part of the t-shirts section. The tie-dye stays in your hand, though. 

“With underwear, I always believe that what you get is what you pay for,” Jeonghan says, then frowns. “What are you doing?”

You look up, innocent. “These crewnecks are on sale too.”

“That’s because it’s the peak of blistering summer,” he says, exasperated. “No one’s wearing crewnecks.”

“At night, though.”

“I’m not wearing a crewneck to bed.”

You’re about to crack a joke about going on long walks by the beach, but think better of it. Jeonghan looks confused by your sudden surrender, but you’re too busy looking in every other direction possible as a prickly heat crawls up your neck. “You really are a snob,” you mumble.

“I’m not a snob.” He rolls his eyes. “Can we go somewhere else? Anywhere else?”

You glance back, coy. “Anywhere?”

He grimaces. “I take that back.”

“Your wish is my command.” You wave the blue-and-coral tie-dye in the air. “We’re buying this one though. Don’t think for a second I’m gonna let you walk out of here empty-handed.”

For once, Jeonghan doesn’t complain, but he does purse his lips to make his feelings clear. “I guess I could make use of it when I have no clean clothes left.”

“Come on, it’s not that bad.”

He still pays for it—and some clean, much-needed underwear, despite his many complaints—at the counter, and you’re honestly surprised at how civil he's being. You'd thought that it would require a lot more effort to make this whole thing as smooth as possible after the fiasco in the car, but he's been on his beat behavior since then.

Despite your outburst and Jeonghan’s subsequent apology, you’re aware that neither of you have actually broached the reason for this tension. It’s much easier to just not think about the break-up, and act like it never happened, because that’s a whole can of worms right there that you do not wish to open. 

You wish you could unscrew the top of your head and bring your brain out. Give it a good shake to dust off all the stray thoughts you keep having about Jeonghan and your self-control and your relationship, and just let yourself enjoy the ride. Unfortunately, it doesn't work that way.

“We could go thrifting,” you suggest once you’re in the car, and for once, Jeonghan doesn’t seem too opposed to the idea.

The first thrift store you find on the GPS is small and plain-looking, but upon entering the dilapidated, run-down looking building you quickly learn not to judge the book by its cover. Inside, Jeonghan picks up a fluffy hot pink scarf with a wince, and you can’t help but laugh.

“You should try that one on, actually. It matches your mean girl vibe,” you point out, digging through the bin where he found the scarf in question.

“I like mean girl better than snob.” He slings the scarf around his neck. He'd decided to trade in his white button-up for the tie-dye you got from Walmart, but not before proclaiming that it was only because he needed clean clothes to wear. “It sounds more like a phase that way.”

“It doesn’t fit as well though,” you say, bringing out a sequined shirt. “Ooh, try this one. The disco vibes would make you a hit at the local club.”

“Thirty years ago, maybe,” he grumbles, but adds it to the cart. “Can’t you look for something more…”

“Boring?”

“Classy,” he finishes with a pointed look.

You grin. “As my lord pleases,” you announce, and hold up a plain brown t-shirt. Jeonghan arches his eyebrows, looking mildly surprised and skeptical, until you turn it around to reveal the Twilight logo with the faces of the main trio plastered below it. “Doth thou find this to thy liking, good sir?”

There’s an expression of part disgust, part enjoyment (and is that a glimpse of fondness you catch in his eye?) on his face. “Verily, fair maiden. It is to my utmost satisfaction,” he replies, a smile playing on his lips. “And it would be dost, not doth.”

“Very well.” You drop the shirt into the cart and straighten, grin unwavering. “Let us look around.”

He offers you his arm, and you hesitate only a millisecond before taking it. “Shall we?”

You nod, keeping the smile in place. “We shall.”

The two of you end up staying in the store until it closes, losing track of time as Jeonghan models different outfits you throw together—“This one has a dick drawn on the back.” “I know, right?”—and bring to him in the changing rooms. It’s not entirely a waste—he actually ends up finding some decent clothes, which you make him pack into a hello kitty backpack, and you buy the heart-shaped sunglasses that manage to catch your attention. By the time you come out and agree to get an unhealthy dinner from a McDonald’s drive-thru, it’s almost nine, but you’re on a dopamine high that you know is going to keep you up for a long while.

Also, you kind of don’t want to go to sleep. Going to sleep means finding a cheap place to stay, with vacancies, during tourist season, which means you’re probably only going to find a single bed. After all you’ve done to keep an invisible barrier between the two of you today (which is to say: not much) you don’t trust yourself enough to try to risk sleeping in the same bed again.

Jeonghan seems to have had the same idea, so you end up taking mini naps while switching with him to drive all night to the next destination. Most of the night, at least. It’s about four in the morning when you realize you’re beginning to nod off in the driver’s seat, so you pull over and nudge Jeonghan awake.

“I don’t think going on is good for our health,” you tell him seriously.

He’s still half-asleep, but he bestirs himself at your words, rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of a closed fist. “Uh, okay,” he mutters, opening his eyes wide and blinking the sleep out of them. “Why?”

“It’s irresponsible,” you insist. “You know, from a road safety perspective. Also, I almost drove us into a tree.”

That wakes him up quick. “What do you suggest, then?” he asks, sitting up. “Sleeping in the car?”

“Well,” you begin, unsure, “yeah?”

“Are you crazy? We’ll freeze to death.”

“No we won’t,” you whisper back, then clear your throat, not sure why you’re whispering. “Body heat.”

Jeonghan puts his face in his hands for a few seconds, then exhales deeply. “Okay,” he mutters savagely, dragging his fingers down his face. He looks up at you, and there’s a languid sharpness in his eyes that makes you squirm in your seat. “Four hours,” he says. “Don’t complain later if you can’t take it.”

You try for a scoff to hide your discomposure, but end up yawning instead. “Whatever,” you murmur, putting your forearm against the wheel and leaning your face against it. It’s still dark out, and you are freezing a little bit, but the dull orange light that lights up the interior of the car makes it feel slightly warmer. “It’s not like we have anything worth stealing.”

Jeonghan lounges against the passenger seat. He’s still wearing the stupid tie-dye, and the orange of the interior lights have washed out the peach in his shirt. The rest of him is bathed in the same color, making his skin look like it’s been licked by fire. You watch him undo the seatbelt buckle with hooded eyes, curling your fingers around the steering wheel to contain yourself. Even as he climbs into the backseat, you don’t move, eyes still fixed on him. 

Would you have reached for him if you didn’t remember every word he said that day? Maybe you should talk about what happened, to clear the air at least. You try to think of how that would go. Jeonghan, you would start, about what happened—

“Are you coming or not?” Jeonghan asks. He leans forward, beckoning you with a crooked finger, and your gaze glides over the collarbone that peeks out from just below his neck. His voice is breathy and low, making something twang in your gut. You pull yourself up quickly, and follow him before you can change your mind. Jeonghan pulls out a few of his clothes from the backpack to cushion the seat. The space is small, cramped, and smells like cheese, but you think about none of those things except the heat of his body against yours. This is, undoubtedly, the most terrible idea you’ve had so far.

“This is a terrible idea,” you voice, as he pulls an oversized shirt over your legs and leans back. You’re not half as sleepy as you were mere moments ago. The comfort is so deeply unsettling that you feel like you’d rather nap in a bush.

“As I said,” he murmurs, gaze darting to your lips for a millisecond. You gulp. He looks like he’s made of honey and marmalade. “Do you want to turn off the light?”

“So passer-bys don’t think we’re fucking in the back of the car?” A nervous laugh bubbles up your throat like an uncorked Coke bottle, the regret following the words as soon as they come out. You glance up at him, pulse jumping, but his eyes are already closed. “Oh. Um. I’ll turn them off.”

It doesn’t take long for Jeonghan’s breaths to even out, but you lie awake for a long time, listening to your own heartbeat. It’s long past ten a.m. before either of you wakes up.

You spend the next few days doing what you do best—wasting time. This was what you’d planned originally, doing absolutely nothing and deciding destinations on the road, but it was supposed to be with someone who knew you well. While you have no doubt that Jeonghan had managed to puzzle out every part of you before, you're no longer the same pedantic, rule-abiding perfectionist that he probably remembers. You think you’ve changed a lot since you last saw him, and since a major part of that owes itself to him not being in your life any more, you don’t know how to adjust your relationship to that change.

There’s a day you spend most of at a microbrewery, where you manage to snag a guided tour to the home brewing process and Jeonghan develops a taste for fruit beers. Another where you trek up the mountains at a national park just to watch the sunset, sitting on a rock with your sore legs and sharing an artisanal. Once you spend the whole day at the pier.

“There.” You point at a highway, licking the side of your strawberry ice cream (Jeonghan takes the mint). “That’s the road I took while following this stupid underground band on their tour. Didn’t even like them that much, but these guys convinced me, and it turned out to be kind of fun. Sort of like a grown-up camping trip.”

Jeonghan squints at where you’re pointing, then shakes his head. “So that’s why you were so confident about sleeping overnight in a car in the desert.”

“S’not that bad.” You shrug. “I thought it would be like a new experience, you know, and that’s where I got this idea about the road trip in the first place. I don’t think Joshua expected me to suggest something so…careless.”

He’s silent for a long moment. You glance at him sideways, and clutch the bear plushie you won at the ring toss. “Do you ever miss it?” he asks at length.

“Never,” you reply quietly. Maybe you haven’t changed as much as you thought.

Every location is fun at first before your not-relationship gets in the way, slowly chipping away at your sanity like a heavy-handed ax. You swear you’ve barely touched alcohol, but soon the days begin to blur together, and by the time you get anywhere near the beach you don’t even know what day it is.

Saturday, your phone says.

You swipe ignore on Joshua’s sixteenth call in the past few days, this time not even bothering to shoot him a text in its stead. It’s late in the afternoon, and you’re lying on your stomach on an extremely soft mattress in a fancy hotel, ankles crossed in the air as you read an old copy of Gone Girl that you borrowed from Mina in case you got bored. 

Or you were reading it. You press your lips together as you finish reading the same paragraph for the seventh time without actually absorbing any of it, and sigh. Jeonghan reaches over and flicks the cover before leaning back. “Female rage, huh?” he asks, settling back against the pillows. “Should I be concerned?”

The colors of the sunset seep in through the slits between the blinds. You look up at him, noting his watchful gaze, the controlled set of his mouth. Somehow you feel more resentful than wary. “I don’t know.” You roll onto your back and jut your chin out, looking at him upside down. “Should you?”

He doesn’t give up. “Are you angry?”

Your fingers coil more tightly around the book. You match his stare for another second before propping yourself up on your elbow and going back to the text. “No,” you reply after a second, still with your back to him.

“I think you are.”

You throw your head back, irritated, and set the book back down on the bed. “Why would I be angry?” you ask, turning your face in his direction. “I’m just tired. That’s all. It’s too hot to do anything anyway, we can just go out after the sun goes down.”

Jeonghan doesn’t seem convinced, but he doesn’t push you on the subject, and you’re relieved. The truth is that you’ve been feeling irritated and guilty and rash ever since you woke up, but don’t want to give yourself the chance to do something stupid.

“Where do you want to go today?” he asks instead.

You frown, squeezing the bridge of your nose between a forefinger and thumb. “I don’t know,” you repeat. “Maybe nowhere. Do nothing.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “What were you planning to do with Joshua?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, all of that went out the window the second he broke his damned leg,” you snap. Then you pull back with a wince. “Shit. Sorry. I think I’m getting a headache.”

He doesn’t say anything, only offers you a glass of water, which you accept with a quiet thanks. It’s not going to help, though, you know that; your headache has deeper roots than that. The water is lukewarm, and you gulp the water down, spilling half of it over your mouth and down your shirt. “Maybe we can go somewhere you want,” you say, pursing your lips into the best smile you can muster. “You know, this was for the both of us.”

“I know,” Jeonghan replies, monotonous. “You’re getting a nosebleed.”

“What? Oh, fuck.” You hurriedly put the glass down on a side table and head to the washroom. Sure enough, when you look into the mirror, your upper lip is coated in crimson.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself again, and bend over the basin. The sound of running water almost drowns out Jeonghan’s footsteps, so you jump a bit when you hear his voice.

“Let’s go to a club,” he says. You straighten, holding a napkin to your nose, and glance back at him. He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest. “Sounds like you need to get drunk,” he says, shrugging.

Your lips part. “Okay.” You turn and grab another napkin. “Sure, yeah, let’s go.”

The teeming throngs of people seem to envelope you, like a piece of paper folded over and over. The air in the nightclub is stale but cold, with undercurrents of sour sweat and sweet coke syrup. You wouldn’t call yourself a stranger to this scene, but for some reason, it feels foreign.

You weave your way through the crowd on the dance floor, an untouched glass in your hand. Although the whole ordeal had been Jeonghan’s idea, he’d disappeared less than ten minutes after you came, no doubt off buying pretty girls drinks. Being seen with you would probably ruin his night, but at least someone’s living their single life to the fullest.

You, on the other hand, have not been having fun at all. It’s not entirely unexpected, since the whole reason you’d said yes to the idea was because you’d felt bad about snapping at him. Usually, you go drinking to unwind after a stressful week, but today you just can’t seem to get into it. You suspect it’s because you’re alone. The music is loud and heavy and while you remember noting that it’s one of your favorite songs, all you can hear right now is the bass. You feel it in your skull and your teeth and jarring all up your sciatic nerve, sending little jolts through your spine. If you didn’t have a headache before, you’re definitely close to getting one now.

Someone brushes past you, and you almost spill the drink in your hand all over the dress. Annoyed, you turn to snap, but they’re already gone by the time you’ve turned around. You sigh, massaging your temple with your free hand, and sit down at the first table you see, placing the glass with the red drink sloshing around inside. The pulsating lights make the surface of the liquid flash, turning it orange and pink and even green. You don’t even remember what it is supposed to be.

With a deep sigh, you pull the glass off the table and nurse it in your lap, head dropping from exhaustion. Maybe if you had someone to dance with you, but your choleric disposition has a habit of chasing people away, and tonight you’ve dialed it up by about a hundred.

A shadow looms over you, blocking the lights, and the color winks out of the drink in your lap. You look up with a glower, ready to chastise what is undoubtedly another hopelessly drunk guy looking to hit on single girls, but falter when you manage to make out the man’s features.

Jeonghan’s blonde hair looks lilac in the lighting. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s got that white shirt on again, but the lights have bled into it like with your drink, turning it different colors. For a moment, neither of you move, him looking down at you and you matching his stare from the seat.

“Are you drunk?”

You shake your head mutely.

If he doubts your honesty, he doesn’t show it. “Wanna get out of here?”

It’s stupid, but you feel bad. You’ve never known him to be into the whole party scene, but maybe he’s gotten different hobbies since you split up, and you feel like you’re taking that away from him. “Don’t you want to stay?” you ask, setting the glass on the small table. “I know the way back.”

He offers you a small smile. “You know how I feel about places like this,” he answers as you prepare to leave. Then why did you suggest it in the first place? you want to ask, but dare not utter a word. “Well then—” He offers you a hand, the smile softening— “my lady?” 

His voice is low, but you hear it like an arrow singing through the noise. “As my lord pleases,” you murmur with an incline of your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you take his hand.

Jeonghan tugs you through the crowd, his grip gentle yet firm. You pull yourself closer to him, marveling at how the sea of people seems to part before him, like he’s a warm knife going through butter. “You should’ve told me if you didn’t want to come,” he yells back at you.

“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” you explain, wrapping an arm around yourself as the two of you step out into the night air. It’s much colder outside even with the crowd, and you barely manage to suppress a shiver. “I thought it might be—fun.”

“But it wasn’t?”

You shake your head stiffly, shoulders raised against the late night chill. It’s only then that you realize your right hand is still intertwined with his, with you almost hanging off his arm. Flushing, you extract it quickly, folding your arms across your chest. “Let’s just go back to the hotel.”

You can’t see his face, but you imagine him burning holes into the side of your face. But he only nods.

Back at the hotel, you lean against the basin in the washroom, staring at yourself in the foggy mirror. Your face looks back at you from the parts where you wiped off the mist with the heel of your palm, smokey-eyed, your makeup smudged. The cold ceramic seems to cut into your hands, but you’re grateful for it.

With the bathroom door left ajar, you can hear Jeonghan in the connecting room. “Sorry about ruining your night,” you offer with the most apologetic tone you can summon, but your heart feels as numb as your fingertips. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you hear him say, his voice feeling like it’s coming from a tunnel. You know exactly what’s gotten into you though. 

You swallow against the hard knot of dryness that has lodged itself in your throat. Your head is pounding, and you feel like something is splitting you apart from the inside, like a block of ice in your chest that refuses to melt. Am I really that cold inside? Throughout this trip, you’ve found yourself wishing multiple times that the distance between you and Jeonghan didn’t feel so great, but now the thought overwhelms you, washing over you like a riptide, and you feel like you’s gotten into you to sea.

You think about just giving in, but you want to preserve some semblance to self respect. Although none of your concerns feel grounded—Jeonghan’s been the perfect gentleman since after you broke down on him. The memory of your last argument eight—now nine—months ago, his harsh words cutting you down, they all feel so far away. So unreal. You wonder if you imagined breaking up.

“I shouldn’t act so immature, right?” you wonder aloud, and spin around to face him. Jeonghan’s standing just outside the bathroom, fiddling with the cuff of his shirt, and blinks at your question. “I mean, we’re not in high school anymore.”

His brow twitches, like he’s about to frown. “You’re not acting immature.”

You feel slightly hysterical. There’s exactly one thing you want from him—a reaction. Even though you know it’s only going to make things worse. “You don’t think so?” you ask, very quietly.

The frown finally manifested itself on his face. “Are you drunk?” he asks again, enunciating each word slowly and carefully.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Jeonghan.” There’s a wild edge to your voice that has him tilting his head. “Why are you so—so—” Blank. Unaffected. Maddening. “Calm?”

The frown flickers away, and once again, he goes back to looking as unemotional as an alabaster statue. Just as beautiful, driving you insane with a feeling that you can’t quite put into words. “What would you rather have me be?”

One second you’re leaning against the doorframe, fingernails gouging into the wood, and the next second you’re on him, reaching out like you’re about to claw his face off. Before you know it, you’re kissing Jeonghan with all the viciousness of a bite. 

Your hands grip his shoulders, then slide up to his neck and down to his upper back. You can feel his shirt creasing where your nails dig into it, so desperately that you think they might leave crescent-shaped scars. “What do you think?” you hiss into his ear as he stumbles, stepping back to steady himself, his hands coming to your hips. You lean into him, returning to his lips, and then he’s kissing you back.

Jeonghan slides his hand over the diaphanous material of your dress, reaching up to slide into your hair, deepening the kiss. His other hand grips your waist, pulling you as close to himself as humanly possible. His arm crushes you against himself as his lips part against yours, kissing you like he was breathing from you, as desperate as if he were drowning.

It’s as if he’s come alive under your touch, so different from the unemotional front he’d displayed just seconds earlier. His hands roam your body, exploring, tracing, remembering. You open yourself to him, letting every doubt and second thought be washed away by the tide of emotion that rages inside you. Jeonghan tastes like strawberries, his lips soft and sweet, and you feel like putty in his hands, but you still manage to push him into the bed. You’re in his lap now, legs on either side of him, slowly and teasingly tracing the roof of his mouth with the tip of your tongue.

Jeonghan’s hands travel up your waist to your breasts, and you press your lips to the junction of his jaw and neck, right over the pulse. He moans into your mouth, and you feel hot all over—the good kind of hot, the kind that makes you feel like you’re standing in his fire, sweating harder to feel more keenly the wind against your skin. It starts in the pit of your stomach and spreads to your core, your chest that’s flush against his, your hands as you pin his shoulders to the mattress. You kiss him again, hands moving to his chest as you start to unbutton his shirt.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Jeonghan breathes, covering your hands with his. You make an impatient noise at the back of your throat, but pause, pushing yourself up so you’re straddling him. “You’re not drunk.”

You give him a black look.

“Okay, okay.” His breaths are coming in pants, each as ragged as the last. “I…I don’t have a condom—”

“I do,” you cut him off in the middle. He gives you a questioning look, and you huff. “I was going to get laid, okay? One way or another.”

His lips part, and for a long moment, no sound comes out of them. “Are you sure?” he asks lamely.

You stare at him, flabbergasted. “What do you think?” you demand again. He’s such a sight under you, with a half-unbuttoned shirt and swollen lips, that you’re having trouble stringing words together. “Jeonghan—I don’t know what it is that’s holding you back, or—or if you just don’t want to have sex with me, but—”

“Not like this,” he interrupts. There’s a softness to his voice, even as he looks up at you with heavy-lidded eyes. Your hand twitches where it’s lying on his chest. “I mean. You’re not in the right state of mind—”

You’re incredulous. “It doesn’t have to mean anything, Jeonghan,” you say, petulance creeping into your voice as you struggle to maintain your composure. “I’m upset and frustrated and I really need this, okay?” Your voice cracks just slightly, but it’s enough for the air to get knocked out of him. 

Some part of you tells you not to do this. To apologize, maybe laugh it off with a shitty joke about getting rid of the tension, act like you don’t want to open him up and climb into him. Sex has never been the solution to your problems. But you’re on a mean bad decision streak, so you just bite down on your lip, swallowing your feelings.

“Please touch me,” you whimper, and Jeonghan takes in a sharp breath, briefly closing his eyes before moving to oblige. 

His hands go back to your waist, but this time he flips your positions. He grasps the hem of your dress, and you stretch your arms, letting him tug it up and off your frame. You watch as his eyes rove over you, and his pupils darken, swallowing the warm brown of his eyes. Jeonghan leans down next to your ear, and you feel the dent in the mattress next to your head where his palm presses into it.  “Remember,” he says, as your stomach flutters weakly, “you asked for this.”

Jeonghan’s knee nudges yours to part your thighs, and the next thing you feel is two of his fingers pressing against the already-damped seat of your panties. “Didn’t expect to be so wet already,” he murmurs, and your face heats up like he toom a match to it. “Is that what you meant by frustrated?” Wordlessly, you arch against him, eager. “Hips,” he commands, and you raise your hips to allow him to pull your panties down your legs, where you agitatedly kick them off your ankles.

You suck in an anticipatory breath as his fingers push against your unclothed core. He doesn’t even need to look for your clit—the pad of his thumb is pressed against the bundle of nerves a second later, rubbing circles into it. You screw your eyes shut and throw your head back, clenching your thighs around his arm. “Oh god,” you gasp. “Oh god oh fuck—”

You cut yourself off with a sharp inhale to grab his forearm, digging your fingers into it as he flicks a finger against your clit. “You’re so sensitive,” Jeonghan remarks, a smug smirk painted on his face. “Always were. That’s what made playing with you so much fun.”

You open your eyes just to narrow them at him, panting. “Oh, finally, there he is,” you drawl breathlessly. “The resident devil of—Jeonghan!”

He has the gall to laugh as your entire body jerks in response to his middle finger pushing past your folds and into your heat. “Admit it. You like me better that way,” he counters, adding another finger inside you. You arch your back, sucking his fingers deeper inside your cunt as he curls the digits in your core.

“I did admit it,” you breathe. It’s astounding, how quickly the two of you fall back into the familiar play, trading words back and forth like you’ve been doing this all your life. His thumb swipes down against your slit, collecting your wetness and massaging it back into your clit. You buck against his hand, mewling. “Fuck, Jeonghan, pleasepleaseplease—”

Watching him like this, you suddenly remember that no matter how mild-mannered he may seem to the untrained eye, Jeonghan is neither calm nor reserved. He is sanguine, a hunter in the night, smelling blood from a mile away. And you've always been his favorite plaything.

“There’s a good girl,” he praises, but his fingers pull away a second later. You bemoan the loss of the friction, desperately rubbing your aching thighs together for any sort of relief. Jeonghan’s fingers dig into the inside of your thighs, prying them apart firmly. You begin to protest, but he quells you with a look. “But I can’t let you have it just yet.”

You’re panting. “Fuck you.”

He only smiles. “Condom.”

You gesture towards the bedside table with a tilt of your chin. “Second drawer,” you choke out, feeling like someone’s set a fire to the base of your brain, cutting off your ability to form coherent thoughts. Jeonghan retrieves it, waving the small square packet in the air as if to further provoke you. You settle back onto the sheets, waiting for him to put it on, but instead he leans his weight back against you, playfully nipping at your collarbone. You grit your teeth, grabbing the front of his shirt.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes, you know that?” You hiss, and start unbuttoning his shirt hastily. 

“Well, I tried being nice, and you hated that,” he murmurs against the base of your throat, sending vibrations through your sternum. You fling open his shirt, and he takes it off fully, balling it up and throwing it to some dark corner of the room. “Aren’t you hurrying too much?” he says, but when you roll down against his hips, the bulge straining against the seat of his pants is unmistakable.

“Aren’t you talking too much?” you fire back, and he chuckles. You hear the sound of the packet tearing and the subsequent unzipping of his pants. Jeonghan rubs the head of his cock against your slick heat, almost making you sob, and pushes it in.

Your fingers claw against his back when he slowly rolls his hips into yours, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. “I forgot how good you felt,” he rasps, sidling his hands under your arms and pulling them off him. The heel of his palms skims your forearm, reaching up to meet your wrist. When he presses his fingertips against the palm of your hand, you open up to him like a flower in bloom, letting him twine your fingers with his in a slow, decisive motion.

The head of his cock brushes against your sweet spot, and your mind goes blank with bliss. Jeonghan says your name like a prayer as he pushes deeper into you, harder, and the feeling of hot-and-cold pleasure stirs in your abdomen. His pace quickens, hips snapping faster against yours, and you begin to feel dizzy and delirious. 

You gasp his name, and he shudders as he breathes out, all but falling against you. His fingers tighten around yours as he moves, the tip of your nose nudging his, his forehead cool and damp with sweat where it meets yours. He draws your orgasm out, still fucking into you as you reach your climax. You call out his name as you ride out your high, and his face twists with desire so devastating that it looks almost like pain. He thrusts into you once, twice, only a few more times before he comes, almost collapsing on top of you when he finishes. The pent-up frustration is gone, you realize as you lie in bed and stare up at the ceiling, along with the misery and confusion and anger. 

You clean yourself off in the bathroom in silence, as he wipes off your makeup with a gentleness that you’d almost forgotten. Neither of you speak, but the silence is heavy and comfortable like a winter blanket. A voice at the back of your head is screaming at you about consequences, but it’s small and tin-like and easy enough to tune out in the face of Jeonghan’s lips brushing against your temple.

Plenty of time for regret in the morning.

And, oh boy, does the regret hit like a fucking truck.

You’re the first one up, waking to the feeling of soft blankets on your bare skin and Jeonghan’s sleeping face just inches from yours. Startled, you sit up, the strap of your bra slipping off one shoulder.

Then you’re slipping off the covers and making a beeline for the bathroom, stopping only to grab your phone off the bedside table before locking the door behind you. You lean against it heavily as your legs seem to give out, breathing hard as if you just woke up from a nightmare. 

You slept with your ex last night. The one thing your friends with active dating lives told you never to do. And it was all your idea.

Fuck.

Still trying to steady yourself, you sit down heavily on the edge of the toilet seat, placing your head in your hands. It was a stupid decision, and you know that—hell, you’d known that going into it—but now it’s time to deal with the aftermath. Jeonghan himself is going to wake up in no time, and you don’t even want to think about how he’s going to react.

You try to think of someone smarter than you, but after your actions last night, the bar proves to be pretty low. Your first thought is Joshua, but you feel even more like shit when you think of calling him, so reject that option out of hand. Someone who’d know what to do, you think to yourself as you shakily dial the number on your phone, fingers trembling.

She picks up on the fourth ring. “Hey, girliepop,” Mina greets in a bright, peppy voice, as your shoulders sag with relief. “I feel like I haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s up? How’s home?”

You don’t waste a second. “I did something really, really bad.”

A pause. “Do you need help hiding a body?”

“What? No. I slept with Jeonghan.” You cover your mouth, briefly closing your eyes. Saying it out loud makes it sound even worse. “I’m so screwed.”

“The hot ex-boyfriend? Oh, honey, don’t worry, that’s a mistake we all make at least once in our lives,” she says sympathetically. “Were you drunk?”

You squint. “No…”

“Okay,” she says slowly, and you wince. “Do you…want to do it again?”

At that, you pause. Do you want to do it again? You hadn’t even thought of it before this. “I mean…” You trail off, doubtful. “The sex was pretty great, but…”

You can imagine her twirling a lollipop stick between her fingers, sucking thoughtfully on the candy. “I don’t know, I’m gonna need a lot more context,” she asks finally. “Why did you guys break up? How long were you together? What kind of person is he? It depends on a lot of things.” Another pause, and you can almost see her raising her eyebrows at you, like, well? “You gotta give me something to go on here.”

You try to think of an answer, but every thought feels muddled, like you’ve reached peak brain capacity. “Um,” you start, haltingly, “we have a lot of history, I guess.”

She hums, which sounds like a muted buzz through the line. “Like what? Childhood best friend type of history? On-and-off kind of history?”

You close your eyes, focusing intently. “Um…well…we have known each other since we were in grade school. And we dated for most of high school, and almost two years after that. Then we…we broke up in October, last year.”

“Why?”

That’s a loaded question. You pass a hand over your face, trying to think of how you can explain it. You remember there being so many reasons for it, but now that you’re trying to remember them, not a single coherent-sounding explanation presents itself. “It’s complicated?”

Mina tuts. “I get it if you don’t want to talk about it, but I can’t help you if I don’t know what the problem is, babe.”

“I’m so confused,” you lament, biting your lip. You try to explain the situation as best as you can, how you decided to ditch your plans and go on a fuckass road trip with your ex. Everything comes out like a barrage: all the doubts you’ve had about your relationship with Jeonghan, the constant second-guessing yourself, all your worries about his inconsistent behavior. By the time you’re done, Mina’s gone silent on the other side. 

She doesn’t say anything for a long time, so you listen to the soft crackling of her breathing mixing with the sounds of traffic coming in through the tiny window on the opposing wall. “Oh, honey,” comes her fizzy voice from the speaker finally. “Now I wish I’d convinced you to go on that blind date.”

You laugh softly. “Yeah. It’s just… Every sensible bone in my body is telling me I’ve made some kind of mistake, that I’ve crossed some invisible line, but it was so easy,” you tell her. “Last night, when we—it felt like old times. As if nothing had ever happened. And now I’m wondering if that’s what I’ve wanted all this time.”

“I almost wish you’d come to me with a murder to cover up, because at least I’d be able to help you then,” she replies. “But if you think that maybe this is what you want, and if he wants the same thing, then you can still work it out, you know? You’re a smart girl. You can figure out what you want.”

A smile tugs at the corner of your lips. “I wouldn’t be so sure,” you murmur, using your pinky to trace a crescent into your bare knee. “But thanks.”

Her grin is crystal-clear in your mind. “I’ve got faith in you.”

“That makes one of us,” you quip, and she laughs as you hang up. 

The call didn’t help much, but you’re glad to have gotten some things off your chest. The narrow walls of the bathroom don't feel so suffocating anymore. All right. You pull your knees up decisively, straightening your spine. It’s my problem to fix now, you think. Even if you don’t feel calm, you have to at least act like you are.

Taking a deep breath, you unlatch the door and step outside, closing it slowly behind yourself. As you’d thought, Jeonghan is already up and dressed. Well, kind of. He has his boxers on, and the shirt from last night, crumpled and still unbuttoned. You stare, frozen in place, as he turns and notices you. A beaming smile spreads across his face.

“I went ahead and ordered room service,” he says by way of greeting. “Considering it’s past twelve and absolutely boiling outside, I thought we might stay in for brunch instead. I hope you like pasta, ” he says, shrugging. Then he notices the look on your face. “Is something wrong?”

You blink slowly, as if coming out of a daze. “Something wrong?” you echo, wondering if you sound as bewildered as you feel. “Something…Jeonghan.”

His eyebrows arch. “Yeah?”

“We had sex,” you say slowly.

“We—yes.” He nods, slowly at first, but then more rapidly, until he looks like a bobblehead. “Yeah, but—I mean, we used protection, and we talked about it before, kind of, and I thought it was fine, you know, because—” He’s rambling. You’re beginning to realize he’s not as nonchalant as he appeared a moment ago. “At least we didn’t have sex very publicly in, in the motel, or the car, or—”

It’s like a strange tranquility has descended over you. Jeonghan swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and he looks anxious. You haven’t seen him anxious in so long.

It feels like the roles have been flipped. You know that’s not quite true, and your poise is only temporary, but at least he’s not giving you unreadable looks every time you try to show vulnerability, tripping you up on your own words. You just hope you’re not going to use this opportunity to do something stupid again.

“Jeonghan,” you interrupt. Mina hadn’t really given you any clear-cut counsel, but it seems her reassurance had been all you needed. “If we’re going to do this, we need to set some ground rules.”

‘No strings attached’ sounds weightless in your mouth, but the words seem to sink like stones into your mind.

Still, now that at least the sexual tension is out of the way, you feel as unburdened as those girls in sanitary pad ads. Jeonghan’s inner navigator must be in touch with his good-for-nothing side, because he turns out to be absolute magic with finding amazing out-of-the-way places. The two of you go off-road for a while, but get lost so you decide to stick to what you could identify on the map. There’s another day spent walking around at a doll museum and pointing out dolls that you thought looked like people you both know.

It feels a bit silly, running around with Jeonghan all the time, but it’s the happiest you’ve been in months. You take baths together, and sometimes you go out for ice cream, and despite some of the lewd activities involved, it feels as sweet and innocent as kids playing house.

After the first time your motel room neighbor bangs on your shared wall to ask you to be quieter during sex, you decide that sticking to places with reliably thick walls is the way to go. That’s how you find out that Jeonghan has developed a taste for long baths.

You’re rummaging around inside your suitcase, looking for the paperback you borrowed from your roommate, untouched since the day you stopped reading it right in the middle. “Jeonghan!” you call, overturning a pair of pajamas. Even in a thin robe, you can feel the heat almost radiating off the floor. “Did you see my book? I’m kind of worried that I left it somewhere.”

No response.

Frowning, you stand, looking at the cream-painted door on the opposing wall. It’s firmly shut, and has been that way for the past hour or so, not a sound escaping from inside. You cross the room and check the handle, not too surprised when it swings open.

One glance inside gives it away. Jeonghan looks at you with displeasure, only his head poking out from behind the side of the bathtub. Well, that and the copy of Gone Girl you’ve been looking for the past half-hour, clasped in a long-fingered hand, his elbow propped against the lip of the porcelain tub. “Do you mind?” the perpetrator asks.

You place your hands on your hips, giving him an unimpressed look. “You’ve been in here for over an hour,” you tell him. “At this rate your body is going to turn into an overripe raisin. Also, that’s my book.”

He turns the book over to regard it. “I thought you weren’t reading it.”

“I wasn’t. Emphasis on was.” You rest your hand on the door handle. “There are other people who want to take a bath, you know.”

“Aw, I was just looking for some entertainment.” He flashes a grin at you. “But if you have a better idea…”

You roll your eyes, but unfasten the robe anyway. Jeonghan’s eyes follow your every move, pupils blown wide. He places a cheek on his arm, eyes half-mast as you slip the robe off your shoulders, letting it pool on the floor at your feet.

“Nothing underneath, huh?” he muses. “Have I been out-maneuvered?”

You ignore that. “Move over,” you say shortly.

“Don’t need to ask me twice.”

(Later, when you’re lying on the bed after having managed to wrestle the book away from him, Jeonghan brushes his fingers against the sliver of exposed skin under your shirt. “Don’t even try,” you warn him, after smacking his hand with the spine of the book.

“I thought you wanted to do something ‘wild’,” he says, making air quotes with his hands. You smack him again.

“Not everything is about sex,” you remind him, not really meaning it.

“‘Everything in the world is about sex except sex.’” he quotes. “‘Sex is about power.’”

You roll onto your side, letting the book fall shut as your forearm hits the mattress. “You’re so full of shit, Yoon Jeonghan,” you tell him, getting a razor-sharp grin in response. But you still let him kiss you a moment later.)

By the time you finally reach the ocean, the air conditioner has been broken for two days, so when you feel the fingers of the first evening breeze sneak in through the lowered top of the window and run themselves through your hair, you almost stop the car there and then.

Jeonghan stops you, reminding you that if you get off you’ll have to walk a pretty long time before you actually get to the beach. You stay put, but when you do get to the beach you’re the first out of the car, standing spreadeagle against the flow to feel the wind on each and every inch of your skin, plastering your clothes to your frame.

“This is so much better than that stupid air conditioner,” you sigh. Jeonghan’s still fishing out that Hello Kitty backpack that contains your towels and sunscreen, so you deign to wait for him instead of going off on your own.

Something pink and plasticky covers your vision. “Here.” He grins, settling the heart-shaped sunglasses on your face. “Now you can finally use these,” he says, and turns to head off.

You fix the sunglasses before following after him. The sand is soft under your feet, shifting to accommodate the shape of your feet as you step over it. You pull your sandals off, tucking your fingers under the bands and opting to carry them at your side so you can feel the grains on your soles.

“I thought there would be more people here,” your not-boyfriend comments.

You look around. A kid is building a sandcastle near a couple that looks over him, turning over buckets to deposit clumps of wet sand to shape them into towers. A bit further away, a head wearing sunglasses pokes out of the ground as its giggling companion packs more sand over the body. Jeonghan’s right; the crowd is tamer than you expected, but it’s probably because it’s getting late and the weather is about to turn icy in no time. 

“I haven’t been to the beach in ages,” he says as you reach the shore. The wind tousles his hair, flapping his shirt around his torso, and he squints against the saline breeze. “Kind of forgot what it feels like.”

You hum contentedly, watching the tiny waves lap at your feet. “When I was a kid, my mom told me I had to dig my feet in before the tide came in, or else I would be carried away by the waves.”

He snorts. “I know. Your mom told me the same thing.”

“Right,” you smile. 

Jeonghan bends to place his hands in the sand in front of him, letting the water wash over them. “Cold,” he says. 

“You know, I did almost get washed out to sea once,” you remember. “Swam too far. There was salty water in my mouth and ears and the ground felt like it was made of hands, trying to drag me down further. My uncle told me that when they finally fished me out, my head was wrapped in kelp. He thought that telling me that would traumatize me, but I just kept swimming out again and again.”

“Stubborn and proud,” he observes. “That sounds like you.”

“Does it?” You grin, bending to scoop some of the water into your palms, and sling it off your fingertips to splash it into his face before he can realize what you’re doing. Jeonghan sputters, stumbling in the sand, and comes up with an indignant hey!

Laughing, you turn to run, and glance back to see him discarding the Hello Kitty bag to chase after you. “It’s the beach, cut me some slack!” you yell back at him. He doesn’t respond, but when he does catch you, it’s around the middle, and his tackle flings both of you into the water, you still laughing. You wrestle unsuccessfully with him for another second before coming up for air, his arms still wrapped securely around your waist.

“No fair,” you complain, but the smile that splits your face is as bright as the sun.

“No fair?” he repeats, expression indignant. “You started it.”

“Okay, but now we’re both wet.” You spit some water out of your mouth. Sure enough, your clothes are drenched, and so are his. Jeonghan staggers to his feet, pulling you up with him. His pale blonde hair is plastered to his forehead, darker where it’s wet, curling at the back of his neck. “And not in the fun way.”

“Who says this way isn’t fun?” He kicks some water at you, and you raise your arms to shield your face. Offering only a glare in retaliation, you turn, wading a little further out so the water is up to your waist. “Are you planning to get washed out again?”

“Hilarious,” you call back without turning. The sun is low in the sky, turning the ocean the colors of fire. Jeonghan comes up behind you and you close your eyes, breathing it all in.

The water tickles your waist where your shirt billows up, and the breeze cuts deliciously sharp on your damp skin, but you only shiver when Jeonghan traces a map on the exposed skin of your back.

You don’t stay in the water for long, dragging yourselves up to the shoreline to make sure you mostly dry off when the sun is still up. Jeonghan’s hair slowly curls as it dries, and he tries to comb the sand out with his fingers to no avail.

“I’m gonna need a nice hot bath after this,” he complains, carding a hand through his hair. “It’s all fun and games going to the beach until you’re digging sand out of your body for the next three weeks.”

“You take a nice hot bath at every opportunity you get,” you remind him, but you share the sentiment. The retrieved backpack swings off one shoulder, slapping against your side with every step. “That was so much fun, though. I wish we’d just come here in the beginning and stayed.”

“Nothing beats hiking for hours up a mountain just to see a yellow ball come up in the sky. You made me wake up at an ungodly hour for that, too.”

“And I’m not gonna apologize.” You stand back in the final rays of the sun, watching it sink into the horizon. Strips of gold glimmer in the blue-green of the water, shimmering like the surface of a polished jewel. “Sometimes I look at the sun on a regular day and wonder how it can do that.”

Jeonghan hums under his breath. His stance is unhurried, shoulders relaxed, hands in his pockets. You lick your lips, feeling the salt sting the raw patches where you’ve managed to break the skin by constantly worrying at it with your teeth.

Now that your mind is beginning to quiet, it’s turning to thoughts of the real world instead. For the last few days, you’ve successfully ignored every single warm tingle or stomach butterfly, every warning sign that came up when you looked at Jeonghan, but casting them aside has only made them weigh heavier on your shoulders. 

It doesn’t have to mean anything, you’d told him, but that had felt more like an excuse. Under the guise of only using each other for sex, you’ve been indulging yourself in far more than that, and it’s plain as day for you to see.

“Jeonghan,” you venture in a hushed voice, and he turns to you quizzically. “Do you ever wonder—do you ever think that you’ve made a mistake?”

Instead of answering, he offers you a lopsided smile and extracts his hand from his pocket, letting it hang in the air next to yours. It’s only your knuckles that brush the back of his hand, but you feel the heat all over—on the backs of your shoulders, north of your abdomen, as a constricting circle around your throat.

“I try not to think too much,” he says, catching your fingers lightly when they graze his. You hesitate, but choose not to pull away. “But I know that’s not your strong suit.”

The sky has gone dark. One by one, the artificial lights switch on, bathing the sand in a pale glow. With his tanned skin and platinum hair, Jeonghan looks like a tallow angel in the light, his mouth a soft rosy line curved into a smile like you’re sharing an inside joke. The breeze flows over the water, lifting his shirt up a shade.

Your heart lurches in your chest, but you manage a smile back. He’s probably right and you’re probably overthinking, but you are as helpless in the face of that knowledge as you were without it. As you murmur and you think too little with numb lips, you can't help but wonder what he’s really thinking. 

Jeonghan thinks this bar is going to be the death of him.

The Shipwreck Tavern must take its name quite seriously, because it smells exactly like how he imagines the interior of a shipwreck must smell—like fish and rotten wood. The place is filled with tough-looking old people, and the bartender must be a wrestler’s grandma, because her arms are as big as his head. Everything inside the pub looks old and feels old, except the new-looking TV that adorns a wall adjacent to the bar, playing a soccer game that seems like the local pastime, judging from the attention it garners among the tavern’s patrons.

There are probably better places the two of you could’ve gone to, but this was the nearest place he’d been able to find with an outdoor shower, and he could’ve sworn he felt a crab in his pants before. Instead of bothering to look for a place to eat, you’d suggested staying at the same place, and he hadn’t known better than to comply.

Jeonghan takes the drinks he ordered from the bar with a nod of acknowledgement, fighting to keep the smile on his face until it’s out of the bartender’s view. As soon as the old lady with the anchor tattoo on her forearm turns her back, he makes a face, turning away from a fellow customer who frowns disapprovingly at his expression. Jeonghan gives him a helpless look, and begins making his way through the crowd to a pool table in the corner.

He knows that you think he’s the more sociable out of the two of you, but he begs to disagree, and the fact that you’re already laughing along with a mean-looking guy with a shaved head is only more proof. You turn slightly to let your eyes glide over the crowd searchingly, stopping when they spot him coming towards you. Something in his chest clenches when he sees your face light up upon seeing him. You wave him over to the table, and he raises the drinks in response.

“You might wanna go slow on these. I think I saw something wiggling in the bottle she poured these drinks from,” he warns as you take the glass from him. You grin, but pay no heed to his warnings, tossing the whole thing back like it’s a regular Tuesday.

“How bad could it be?” Shrugging, you put the drink down and smooth down the front of your skirt, briefly playing with the corner where the slit ends. “Maybe it was like an eel or something.”

“Well, you’re certainly something,” he mutters to himself, raising a disbelieving eyebrow. “Why don’t you go ahead and drink mine too, if you’re so fearless? Might find a shark fin in there.”

“Those are too big to fit in a bottle, silly.” You roll your eyes, taking a cue stick leaning against a corner. “Now let’s get this party started,” you purr, bringing the stick up and across the table and positioning yourself behind it.

Jeonghan shakes his head, but doesn’t try to push down the smile that appears on his face. “Okay,” he sighs, coming around the table to your side, leaning so his face is level with yours. “So you want to keep the stick aligned with your line of sight, and try to aim for the easy pockets first.”

You lick your lips, screwing one eye shut to aim. “You underestimating me?”

“No, it’s just to keep your mood up. Now choose your shot.” You survey the layout of the table once before deciding on a target, arranging your stance to aim accordingly. Jeonghan nods. “Okay, good. Line up, and be careful about the angle.”

Placing the stick’s tip near the cue ball, you bend again. “Like this?”

He reaches over, rearranging your hand that’s splayed against the table so your first two fingers make a bridge. “Balance the cue on top of that,” he says, curling an arm around your waist. His fingertips press against the elbow of your cueing arm, stabilizing it. You shiver slightly as if a cool breeze had just blown through, making his own stomach flutter. “That’s it, like that,” he whispers in your ear, enjoying your reaction as you squirm. “Steady, steady…now try.”

Taking a deep breath, you shoot. The cue ball cuts across the dull green surface, bumping into the black ball and sending it rolling into a corner hole. Grinning, you straighten, pumping a fist in the air. “Nice!”

“Yeah, pretty nice.” Jeonghan nods. “Except we’re playing 8-ball pool, which means if you pocket the 8 ball before all the stripes and solids are gone, you lose.”

A despondent boo erupts from the audience watching the soccer match, exactly in sync with your face as it falls. “You didn’t tell me that before,” you say accusingly. “That’s cheating.”

“Good try though,” he acknowledges, taking a sip of his drink. It tastes just as bad as he’s expected. “And I didn’t cheat, I just withheld information.”

“That’s lying.”

“Tomato-tomato.”

You bring up the cue stick, pointing the polished end at his chest. “I’m about to demolish you,” you challenge.

He grins and takes a stick of his own, tapping it against yours. “Bring it on.”

Jeonghan had intended on leaving the second you were done with your food, but you end up staying for more than a few hours as you keep asking for extra rounds despite continually losing. When you finally agree to leave, it’s way past two, and you walk with a giggly, faintly tipsy stupor so he has to support you all the way to the hotel. 

Instead of falling into bed immediately upon entering the room, you pull him into the bathroom, crashing your lips against his before he has the chance to let a question pass them. Jeonghan closes his eyes, holding you against him as you wrap your arms around his neck, almost dragging him down the floor as you go limp in his arms. Your back hits the wall with a loud thump, but you still don’t let up. “Someone’s eager,” he says as you press kisses along the line of his jaw, settling his hands on your hips.

You let out a soft breath, bunching up his shirt under your fingers. He leans in to kiss you, but you step back, holding him in place. “I was—do you think we should—”

Someone bangs against the other side of the bathroom wall, making both of you jump. “Message received, damn,” Jeonghan mumbles, turning his attention back to you. “Sorry, you were saying?”

You fumble with your words for a second before seemingly giving up, instead smiling brightly. “Nothing. Never mind.”

“Nothing, is it?” He kisses your jaw, and you let out a soft sigh. Your hand drops to his pants, moving to unfasten it, but he stops you. “Shh,” he whispers, brushing his thumb against your lips. “Walls have ears, remember?” he murmurs, as his warm breath fans your face.

You tuck your bottom lip under your teeth, blinking up at him so sweetly that he almost groans. He dips his head, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, the ghost of his smile against your skin. “We have to be quiet,” he says, lips touching the shell of your ear. “If you behave, I’ll make sure you’re well compensated for your efforts.”

Your breath hitches, and you turn your face away, letting out a choking laugh. “Oh yeah? And how are you planning to do that?”

Maintaining eye contact, he sinks to one knee, and slides his hands down from your hips to the back of your thighs. You steady yourself by placing your hands on his shoulders, and he tugs your skirt up, warm palms skimming the cool skin of your thighs. 

“Well, for starters,” he says in a low voice, watching your eyes as they darken, and slips a cold finger just inside the top of the slit in your skirt. “I’m going to make you come on my tongue.”

You watch him with wide eyes, still as a statue. Jeonghan licks a warm line up the inside of your leg, which twitches in response. “Remember, not a sound,” he warns, teeth nipping at your skin. 

“You’re an ass,” you tell him, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

He smiles, and taps at your knee to indicate to you to move it. You swing a leg over his shoulder, adjusting your stance to stabilize yourself. He hooks a thumb into the underside of your panties and pulls it aside, revealing your glistening core in its full glory.

The sight makes his breath catch in his throat. Jeonghan licks his lips, experimentally swiping the tip of his finger along your cunt, and you squeeze his shoulder. “Ticklish?” he asks, and you slide a hand through his hair, giving it an impatient tug. “Always so sensitive,” he tuts, even though the sensation sends a bolt of arousal straight to his dick. “Always had a bite, too.”

“Shut up,” you growl, impatiently pulling his face closer to your core.

“Patience, grasshopper,” he admonishes. He slips the finger between your folds, massaging lazy circles into it, and your grasp on his hair tightens. “Ask me nicely, and maybe I’ll give it to you.”

You grit your teeth, but the pause tells him you’re actually considering it. Your giving up so easily would take all the fun out of it, he decides, and without warning, he tilts his head up and closes his lips around your nub, flicking it with the tip of his tongue.

Your whole body seems to spasm in response, like a puppet that just had its strings pulled taut. Jeonghan grins into your cunt, and increases the pressure on your clit. You whine, rolling your hips against his face, but he holds you in place.

“Not so fast, honey bunny,” he murmurs against your arousal, which only has you straining harder against his hold. “You like that, huh?” he asks, and sinks his index and middle fingers into your hole knuckle-deep. “All those times you called me a silver-tongued devil—how d’you feel about this tongue now?”

As if to prove his point, he laves his tongue leisurely along the entire length of your pussy, making you cry out. “Jeonghan, please,” you moan, and his heartbeat stutters at your desperate pleading. The moment you start begging, he’s a goner. “More—ah—”

He doesn’t even remember that he asked you to be quiet. “Fuck,” Jeonghan snarls, “you know I can’t say no to you, don’t you?” He pulls his fingers out almost entirely, coated in your juices, before thrusting them back inside. He proceeds to bury his face back into your heated cunt, sucking on your swollen clit and finger-fucking you at the same time. You throw your head back, scraping your fingernails against his scalp as he eats you out like a starved man. “No.” he says, pulling away momentarily. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Ngh—please—” Your words come out in broken moans, but Jeonghan scarcely hears them. He scissors you ruthlessly, stretching you out with his fingers, the other hand leaving dents in your skin where it digs into the soft skin of your thigh. Your orgasm is drawing near, he can tell by the way your walls are spasming around him, so he speeds up his pace, licking and suckling in quick succession, pushing you far past the point of satisfaction. “Jeonghan!”

You come with a cry, your eyes rolling back into your head, back arched against the wall. Jeonghan unlatches his lips from yours unwillingly, pulling back to admire the look on your face, hazy with desire. 

“Fuck,” you breathe once you’ve come down from the high, chest heaving. You let the back of your head fall against the wall with a light thump. “Where did you learn to do that?”

He shrugs with faked nonchalance, grazing your skin with his teeth as he slips your leg from his shoulder. A glint of satisfaction shines in his eye like an ember sparking in a dead bonfire as he gets to his feet. “I’ve been practicing.”

Your shoulders stiffen, and Jeonghan stops in his tracks. “Right,” you murmur, as alarm bells go off in his head. He regrets the words instantly, and moves to take a step towards you, but you’re already turning away and out of his reach, leaning towards your phone that rests precariously on the basin’s edge. “Oh, wow, it’s getting pretty late. I think we should head to bed.”

Jeonghan bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says softly, stepping back to allow you to slip past him and out the door. Stupid, he thinks, licking the remains of your cum from his lips. “I guess so.”

The next morning, after you finished locking the doors behind yourself, you’d come down to the lobby to find Jeonghan flirting with the receptionist.

He had both his elbows on the table, leaning his weight against it as he gave her his best smile, chuckling at some shitty joke he probably cracked himself. She’s pretty, you’d thought as you saw her smile, flushing as she tucked a lock of dark hair behind her ear. He said something else to her, and she giggled, but it had died out quickly when she’d spotted you approaching.

To his credit, Jeonghan dropped his smile as soon as he saw you. You’d deposited the keys, thanking the receptionist with the nicest smile you could manage, but even that wasn’t very nice. He hadn’t said anything as you got to the car, and you feel like shit even though you know he doesn’t owe you an explanation.

Stupid, you think to yourself. Stupid of you to forget that this whole thing was going to be over soon, stupid for caring so much and getting hurt despite yourself, stupid for thinking that Jeonghan would share your concerns. And let’s not forget angry: angry for getting so carried away, especially when you pride yourself on being so careful all the time.

The car hasn’t stopped in hours, not even for a gas refill, and you haven’t had a proper conversation since the drive started except for when Jeonghan tried to offer you a soda.

You’re glad you’re driving, because it gives you an excuse to be silent. Focus on the road. Jeonghan has sensed something off with your mood, but he hasn’t tried to ask you about it, and you don’t know whether to be grateful for him respecting your boundaries or mad for not trying hard enough. 

Now that it’s June the skies have begun to turn an angry, burning orange-red before six o’clock instead of remaining a softer bruised purple. You’ve been in the same position for a while although your neck started to hurt some time ago. It’s getting chilly, but not cold enough to roll the window back up, and you’re determined to fill the silence with the whistling wind for as long as you can.

You must’ve jinxed yourself, though, because the silence is broken in seconds. “Just so you know,” Jeonghan starts, tone light and conversational, “I wasn’t flirting with her.”

You tighten your hands around the wheel, staring so hard at the windshield that you’re surprised it hasn’t melted into a puddle of plastic yet. “I don’t care if you did,” you say tersely, trying and failing to sound normal. “It’s none of my business.”

“I was just asking her if she knew any places we could stay nearby,” he continues, instead of giving up. “And as it turns out, there’s this really great—”

“Actually, I think we should go home.” You cut him off demurely, not taking your eyes off the road in front of you, even though there isn’t another vehicle in sight. “My parents are probably worried about where I’ve run off to, and I’ve been kind of a shit friend to Joshua recently.”

Jeonghan’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “That was a choice you made.”

You scoff, rounding on him with a scornful look on your face. “Oh, so you want to talk about choices now?” you ask, voice full of strife. “Remind me again in case I’ve forgotten—it was your choice to have us break up in the first place, wasn’t it?”

The muscles in his jaw tighten, standing out under his skin where they flex. “Oh, come on. You’re just mad about last night and instead of acknowledging that, you’re changing the topic.”

“Okay, yeah, I’m mad,” you admit, “but that’s not why I’m bringing this up, and you know it. I believed you the first time you said anything. We can’t just never talk about what happened nine months ago—you can’t just sweep something that big under the rug and expect things to be fine and fucking dandy.”

“Who cares about something that happened months ago?” he asks angrily.

“Are you serious?” you ask, laughing disbelievingly. A chill is beginning to settle over your skin even as the air simmers at a hundred degrees.

He tugs an opposing sleeve, and throws the other hand up in exasperation. “I don’t see how it matters anymore.”

You stop the car.

Jeonghan opens his mouth, and closes it again. "You know, this whole stopping the car in the middle of the road thing is getting old," he says with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

“You don’t see how it matters?” You whip around to look him in the eye, and he shrinks back just a bit. “Jeonghan, you said getting into this relationship was a fucking mistake!”

He stares back at you, unyielding. 

“And now you want to act like that never happened?” you press on. “How did you expect this to turn out? That we would be on the road forever, always going nowhere? That you could get away with never addressing all the things you said, just because I never brought it up?” You scoff. “Did you ever give a shit, or was this whole thing just a way to get into my pants?”

Your eyes are burning, and not just from the heat. Jeonghan’s hands are balled up around the seatbelt, the skin around his mouth pulled tight. You don’t dare to look away, hoping against hope for him to finally say something, anything, even though you’ve been in a dozen arguments like this that all ended the same way. This time, you pray with bated breath, this time it has to be different.

“I guess it was just a bad idea,” he says finally, quietly.

Every tensed muscle in your body goes limp, and you’re pulling yourself out of the suffocating car before your mind has even formed a coherent thought, dying to get away from him. The asphalt seems to sizzle, and you wonder in a daze if the road is just a mirage and you’ve actually been standing in one spot this entire time.

You’re standing in the heat, the warm wind making your skin sting with sweat, and even with your hands covering your face you can still sense Jeonghan’s presence behind you. When you turn, there he is, standing still in front of the car. The sun’s rays reflect off of the hood of the car and into your eyes, and you blink back against the stinging brought on by the forceful brightness. For a second you can’t see the expression on his face as he shifts, his silhouette outlined in shadow by the glaring sun, but then your eyes adjust to the light and the look on his face makes something crack and split apart in your chest.

You know then that he will not say anything. He will watch you walk away, again and again and again, with that stoic set of his shoulders and the proud line of his mouth, but he will not say a word. You want to grab him and shake him, scream at him to say something, but you know that his words, in all their vehemence and vitality, are reserved only for him. And you’re going to stay outside, forgotten in the sun, where he hung you out to dry all those months ago.

You wrap your arms around yourself, feeling a twinge of pain against the side of your ribs where his fingers dug into your skin last night. For a moment, you can almost feel his hot breath on your neck, his teeth on your thighs, but you blink, and suddenly the distance between you feels too great. Jeonghan’s eyes bore into yours, the heels of his palms braced against the hood of the car he leans on, and even in the sweltering heat you have to suppress a shiver. 

“I knew this was a bad idea,” you whisper. “Even when I didn’t have a choice.” 

A muscle in his neck pulls taut, but all he does is lift one corner of his mouth in a lazy, sardonic smile. You watch him pretend not to notice as his grip turns white-knuckle-tight.

“Needs must when the devil drives, sweetheart,” is all he says.

You have no response to that. “Right,” you whisper. Your fingers are trembling, and you’re definitely in no state to drive, but you’re suddenly seized with the desire to get away from it all. Away from him. “Take me home, Jeonghan.”

Peonies have always been Joshua’s favorite. 

Even though you’ve never been big on elaborate apologies, the guilt you feel after having ignored your injured best friend for the past couple of weeks is strong enough that you end up buying a whole bouquet for him. Joshua’s mom’s face lights up when she sees you, and you give her a shy, apologetic smile right before she sweeps you up into a bone-crushing hug.

Your eyes widen, but you wrap your arms around her anyway, feeling stupidly emotional at the warm reception. “Oh, sweetheart, I haven’t seen you in so long!” she gushes, and you ignore the painful squeeze of your heart upon hearing the endearment. “If Josh had told me that you were coming, I would’ve made your favorite cherry brownies.”

“No problem, ma’am, I’ll be sticking around for a while,” you tell her with a warm smile.

“Oh, you must be looking for him,” she says, “Poor kid’s been cooped up for weeks, he misses you so much. I think he’s in the backyard, or I would’ve called for him.”

The backyard? You wonder what a guy with a broken leg is doing in the backyard—definitely not sunning himself in this weather—but you thank her anyway. Gripping your bouquet, you head to the back of the house, pushing past the screen door and stepping into the uncut grass of the Hongs’ backyard.

And stop short.

“What the fuck?” you sputter.

Joshua almost trips over the black-and-white football, steadying himself last minute to look up at you with wide eyes. Your grip on the flowers has tightened even further as you imagine it to be the boy’s throat. “Hey, ____,” he says with a strained grin. “I didn’t know you were coming! This is such a lovely surprise. And are those flowers? For me? Aw, you shouldn’t have!”

You stare him down, unrelenting. “I didn’t realize broken bones could heal themselves in less than three weeks,” you say pleasantly, a contrast to the death glare that pins him in place. “Shouldn’t you be resting, sweet Joshua?”

“Oh, um, the doctors were pretty surprised too. Miracle recovery, they called it.” He lets out a forced laugh as you cock an eyebrow menacingly. Joshua sighs, dropping the facade. “Okay, that’s not working, huh.”

“No,” you tell him. “But I can break your leg right now to make it all true, because I know how much you hate lying to your best friend.”

He puts his hands up placatingly, taking a careful step back. “Hey, hey, hey, I can explain,” he says, sweating. “Why don’t we go back inside and get you something to drink, and then I can tell you why I lied,” he suggests with a nervous smile. “You must be parched.”

You give him a dirty look. “For blood, yeah,” you mutter. “This better be fucking good, Hong, or I’m going to break both your legs.”

Back in his room, you opt to stand near the doorway in case he tries to bolt. You’d tried to upend the peonies into the bin, but he’d grabbed them before you could, saying that the poor flowers weren’t to blame. Joshua sits on the edge of his bed, hugging the bouquet to his chest, and you fold your arms threateningly across your chest. “Alright,” you say waspishly. “Explain yourself.”

He looks down at his shoes, see-sawing the heels of his cleats back and forth. “Before you get mad,” he starts, “you gotta remember one thing. I did it for you.”

Your lips curl downwards into an unimpressed frown. “Let me get this straight. You lied to me about your leg being broken, sending my ex-boyfriend in your place to take me home, for my sake?”

Joshua winces. “That sounds pretty terrible when you put it like that,” he confesses. “But, yeah, I did.” You unfold your arms, making as if to step towards him, and he yelps, putting his hands up again. “Let me explain!”

“You’ve explained plenty,” you tell him.

“No, I still have stuff left!” he pleads. “Listen, after you broke up with that guy, you weren’t the one who had to deal with him afterwards. While you went back to college, I had to stay here and be there for him while he was moping all over the place.”

You roll your eyes. “I would hardly call you and Jeonghan friends. There’s no reason he would come to you for comfort.”

“I mean, yeah, he didn’t,” he admits, “but this is a small town. Do you know how hard it is to escape the news of one break-up, especially one as high-profile as yours.”

“High profile?”

“You know what I mean,” he chides. “The point is, you didn’t see him afterwards. He was really torn up about it, you know?” You purse your lips as Joshua leans forward, his expression turning serious. “I didn’t have any sympathy for him in the beginning, because of what you told me, but the more I saw of him the more difficult it became to match up the idea of the Jeonghan I knew and the Jeonghan you said told you all those things.”

Scoffing, you look away, unable to stand the sight of Joshua’s imploring eyes. “Just because you couldn’t make sense of it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”

He sighs. “Look, I’m not defending him. What he said to you—about not seeing the point in putting in effort, that you were just playing at charades, and the thing about your relationship being a childish mistake—”

You grit your teeth. “I get it. I was there, remember?”

“Yeah.” Joshua scratches his head, a thin line appearing between his brows. “He had no right to say any of that to you, but I still felt like there was something I was missing, so I went to talk to him.”

Defeated, you throw your hands up. “Of course you did.”

“And I don’t think he meant any of that. I mean, he still shouldn’t have said that shit, but…” Your eyes narrow to snakelike slits, and he shakes his head hastily. “Haven’t you ever gotten the feeling that despite all his bravado, the guy just doesn’t know how to express his feelings without getting defensive about them?”

You hesitate, biting your lip. Joshua sees the shift in your mood, and persists. “I might be wrong, and maybe breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to you,” he says, “but if there was the slightest chance of miscommunication, I would be a shitty best friend if I allowed you to let him go without a chance to set things right.” He tilts his head, sitting back. “So I faked a broken leg and kind of tricked him into thinking I was doing him a favor by letting him go get you in my place.”

“You tricked Jeonghan.” You can’t lie, you’re impressed. “Wow, you’re insane.”

“Um, I would say talented,” he argues. “Anyway, he was happy to do it. I think he was secretly looking for a chance to talk to you, so I thought a five hour drive might give him enough courage to tell you how he really felt. Then when you came back, I thought I’d surprise you, and we’d get to go on that trip after all. And then you texted me that you were eloping with him—”

“That’s not what it was.”

“—and I thought that my idea had worked. But then…” he trails off, and looks down at the flowers in his hands.

“But what?” you prompt.

“I don’t know, you tell me,” he says. “Something clearly went wrong.”

You sigh, and walk over to sit down heavily beside him. “It was going fine in the beginning,” you tell him. “But we didn’t actually talk about the argument, and after a point, I didn’t know how to bring it up. Then we sort of…” You wince.

Joshua frowns. “What?”

You think about all the different times the two of you fucked instead of talking about your feelings. “We kissed,” you finally speak, and Joshua shakes his head disappointedly. “A few times.”

“I’m getting the feeling that’s not all you did.”

You shush him. “And then it sort of reached a boiling point, and we argued. Again.” Your heart hurts as you remember the argument from only hours ago. “And he said some messed up things. Again.”

Joshua is silent for a few moments. Then he slings an arm over your shoulders, squeezing you against him in an incredibly comforting side hug. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles into your hair, and you blink back tears. 

“I missed you.” You reach up to wrap your hands around his shoulders. Joshua’s hugs are as comforting and as restrictive for your breathing as his mom’s. “I had the worst fucking time, but it was also the best fucking time,” you sniffle into the crook of his neck. Then you spot a gleaming trophy on his ledge. “Oh, so you guys did end up winning the playoffs.”

Joshua looks back, and nods. “Oh, yeah, the second half was absolutely insane. Remind me to tell you about it.”

You tuck your chin into his shoulder. “I still can’t believe I threw a whole tantrum about not getting to go on a trip,” you say, “when I could’ve just come back and done it anyway.”

“Don’t worry, we still have weeks to make up for that.” Joshua rubs your back comfortingly. “He’s an idiot.”

“Yeah, he is,” you mumble, speech slightly obstructed by your cheek squished against Joshua’s shoulder. “I just thought things might be different this time.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

You press your face back into his neck. "You're not off the hook, by the way."

Joshua sighs.

Joshua’s mom insists on throwing you a welcome back party that night, and despite being both emotionally and physically exhausted, you can’t find it in yourself to say no. She makes you your favorite cherry brownies, as promised, which are the only thing you eat before your appetite runs out.

You sit alone at the table after everyone is done eating and the guests have dispersed around the house, dragging your spin around the empty hollow of your bowl. Your shoulders feel heavy with the weight of all the mistakes you’ve made. As you sit there idly, you keep running your last conversation with Jeonghan over and over in your head, wondering what you could’ve said to make it go differently. 

You close your eyes, and for a moment you’re back to last October, standing on the ice-slicked ground outside the diner where you’ve celebrated every birthday with Jeonghan since eighth grade. His eyes are vacant and vicious and there’s ice trapped around your ribs that seems to be getting harder and sharper with every breath, and you’re screaming at each other until your throat is raw and your tears freeze in the cold.

There’s no point in crying over spilt milk, you suppose, and you’ve always been a hothead. You and Jeonghan together are about as mild as an active volcano.

Sighing, you get to your feet, the table cover rustling over your knees. You’ve stayed for about as long as you could have, and now you just want to sleep. I’m just gonna tell her I’m tired, you think, and head towards the backyard in hopes to catch Joshua’s mom conversing with someone there.

You step outside into the dark to find a single person sitting on the rickety old swing. Frowning, you move closer to figure out if it’s her, but the frame is too tall and masculine to be the person you’re looking for. “Sorry, I thought you were someone else,” you tell them as they raise their head, taking a step back.

“No. Stay.” A hand reaches out to wrap around your wrist, tugging it towards the swing. It’s then that you notice the silvery-blond hair, lit up by the smattering of light that shines out past the half-open screen door. Jeonghan gets to his feet, and you freeze. “Please.”

“I didn’t realize you were invited,” you say stiffly.

“I wasn’t. I just came to look for you,” he says. There’s an earnest touch to his voice, giving you pause. “To apologize.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your hackles rise. “What could you possibly have to say now?” You free your hand from his grasp, taking another step back. “You’ve made it sufficiently clear that this never meant anything to you.”

“Of course it meant something!” he yells. He takes a deep breath, chest still rising and falling. “I never wanted to hurt you. I was—I was scared.”

The notion sounds so ridiculous that you want to laugh in his face. But his eyes are still on yours, voice is gravelly and somber, and you feel like you’re rooted to the spot.

“Scared of what?” you whisper.

“Scared to repeat history,” he replies. “Scared to let my pride get the best of me again, say things I don’t mean. Lot of good that did me, since trying to avoid talking about it just led me to making the same mistakes.”

Your throat constricts painfully, like it’s being choked from the inside. “You really hurt me, you know,” you say hoarsely. “I never wanted to see your face again.”

A small, sad smile touches his lips. “I know,” he says. “Knowing that you didn’t want to see me made everything so much scarier. What if you just refused to come back with me? What if you’d rather just stay back or actually take the bus?” He seems to struggle with his words for a second. “When you agreed to come on that stupid road trip, I felt like I had struck the lottery.”

Your vision is blurry, and you blink rapidly against the oncoming tears. “Thank you,” you whisper, choking back the emotion that surges up your throat, “for telling me that. But,”

He waits.

“That’s not enough,” you complete tiredly. “I’m sorry.”

“Why?” Jeonghan asks, eyes blazing. He looks just as tired as you are. “Is it because of what I said? Because—I don’t know how to make you believe this, but I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

“No.” It feels like the only reason you’re standing still is because every cell in your body has had the energy sucked out of it, leaving you bone-weary. “It’s because you never say anything. And I’m sick of it, Jeonghan.” Your face twists as you try not to start sobbing like a little kid. “I can’t live knowing that you can go back to pretending to be that wooden, unfeeling shell of a person every time I rip myself to shreds in front of you. I hate that you never say a word, that you’re willing to watch me walk away rather than choke back that damn pride of yours. I’m fucking sick of it.”

His eyes soften. “I’m not the same person I used to be, sweetheart. Losing you taught me that,” he says quietly. “Even if I forget that at times myself. Please, just let me show you.”

“I'm not a girl anymore, Jeonghan,” you say tightly. “I don’t know how many second chances I have left in me.”

“That's what I'm afraid of.” He moves towards you, cupping your face. “Because you still feel like a girl to me… and I still feel like a boy around you. I'm afraid that you're growing up and away and out of me. That’s how I felt last October, when you came back so different, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. I thought you wouldn’t need me anymore.”

“Then why didn't you say that?” you demand, lungs burning. “All this time, I've been—” You finally let the tears flow. “I’ve been so…”

“Because I'm still seventeen," he breathes, "every time I look at you, choking on my words as you come down the stairs in your prom dress. I might be a devil, but when it comes to you, words still fail me." 

There’s a barbed wire wrapped around your spine, a spike stabbing into each vertebrae, that tightens and tightens with every word that comes out of his mouth. He laughs under his breath, as if remembering something. “You see,” he says, “being around you kind of activates my fight or flight instinct.”

A broken laugh bubbles to your lips, and you blink against the tears that seem to make everything brighter around you. “You suck,” you tell him honestly, making him smile as if you’d just told him he was the most perfect man on earth. Standing straighter, you school your features into an expression of formality, and clear your throat. “So how are you planning on not making the same mistakes again?”

“Well,” he says, “I’m gonna try really, really hard.”

You cast your eyes heavenward. “You’re really lucky I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“I know.” Jeonghan takes your face between his cold hands and pulls you in for a firm kiss. You clutch the hem of his t-shirt, feeling warmth spread down to your toes when he smiles into the kiss. “I’m hopelessly in love with you, too.”

“Oh, look at you, all grown up,” Joshua gushes as you lug your olive green suitcase down the front steps of your porch. “Going off to college for the first day of her final year. I feel like we should take a photo to remember this moment.”

“Joshua, shut up,” Jeonghan grunts as he lifts the bag. “If you have the time to take a photo, you have the time to help me out with the luggage.”

“Um, aren’t you forgetting something?” Your best friend points exaggeratedly at the plaster cast that covers his foot. “I’m a bit disabled at the moment.”

Karma had come full circle for him when he’d tried to take over the neighboring eleven-year-old’s trampoline, and had ended up breaking his leg for real. Everyone thinks he deserved it except Joshua himself, who’d warmed up to the idea anyway when he’d realized that he could get people to sign cool stuff on his cast.

“You’re acting like I’m going for my first day at kindergarten or something.” You roll your eyes. 

“Yeah, you’re a real grown-up,” he leans over to pat your arm, withdrawing it hastily when you threaten to kick his broken leg. “Jeez, calm your tits.”

“I am calm.”

“Totally.” Jeonghan slams the boot of the Corolla, making a cloud of dust puff up. He reaches over to press a chaste kiss to your lips. “You ready to go?”

“I really think we should take a picture,” Joshua interjects.

Both of you turn to glare at him, and he shrinks into the wheelchair. “Sensing some hostility,” he mutters. “So ungrateful, considering that I’m the whole reason you’re together in the first place.”

“Exaggeration,” you say, and turn to Jeonghan. “I’ll just be a moment, okay?”

He nods, and you give him a tiny smile before running back inside the house. Joshua shakes his head curiously at Jeonghan, who only shrugs in response, just as mystified. They wait for a few more seconds, and Joshua pulls out the marker and begins doodling inside the D of your signature on his cast, which is a sweet, short message: Dick.

“Okay!” You command the attention back to yourself with a clap of your hands as you emerge from the door, this time with the plastic pink heart-shaped sunglasses adoring your face. “How do I look?” you ask, propping them up on the top of your head, and giving them a little twirl.

“Like an idiot,” your best friend says, deadpan. You smack the back of his head as you pass him. “Also, don’t forget your Hello Kitty backpack. They go with your glasses.”

“That’s mine, actually,” Jeonghan says pointedly, and turns to you with a heart-melting smile. “And you look gorgeous as always.”

“Disgusting,” Joshua comments.

You flip him off. “I’m ready to go now.”

“Well, then,” your boyfriend says breezily, patting the hood of the car, which causes another cloud of dust to billow into the air. “Get in. We don’t have all day.”

taglist: @fragmentof-indifference @sadgirlroo @joonsytip @odetoyoon @sstarrysshit @lockburn-castle @chocosvt @ohgeezitsbreadgenie @outrologist @ishireads @ti--red

𝙎𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝐎𝐓𝟏𝟑 𝙍𝙚𝙘𝙨

[ Contains poly, single member at once x reader, and others..]

♡ Fluff || ୨୧ Angst || ★ Smut || ꗃ SMAU || ✹ Humor|| ⌗ Series || ✿ Drabble || ♤ Mature (No smut)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ The Xperiments ⌗♡୨୧ -> @gamerwoo

Synopsis : Growing too strong to stay at the lab you grew up in, you’re shipped off to South Korea to continue your life in their much bigger and more high-tech lab. That’s where you meet thirteen other experiments who are just like you, only knowing life inside the labs which consists of constant inhuman studies and awful mistreatment. However, being kept solitary for your whole life, you find it difficult to trust even the experiments who know exactly what you’ve gone through. But the labs simply creating these experiments because they can may not be the only reason for your existence, and trusting the other experiments might be your only way to freedom – assuming you can stay hidden from the white coats.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Play along ★⌗ -> @xddaengx

Pt 1 , Pt 2 , Pt 3 , Pt 4 , Pt 5 , Pt 6 , Pt 7 , Deleted Scene , Pt 8

Summary: Your boyfriend proposes the idea, that he shares you with his 12 best friends.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Challenge Me ♡୨୧★⌗✹ -> @seokgyuu

Synopsis: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Horanghae ⌗♡★ -> (Hoshi centric, OT13) @horanghaejamjam

Summary: Everyone knows that Soonyoung loves tigers. The term Horanghae literally means “I tiger you”. Needless to say, the Seventeen members shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were the night he came home with a very timid white tiger curled against him.  

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Kitten ears ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @hansols-yoda-boxers

Synopsis: Your first family wasn’t terrible, but they weren’t very loving either and they didn’t have much space for you so you were happy to leave. Except that you were useless when it came to working so the shelter was really your only option. After a lot of waiting you were happy that you might finally be getting a family that really wanted you and cared about, despite how painfully shy and skittish you could be.

Now you just had to worry about how to handle your next heat.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ And the universe said ⌗♡୨୧♤✹ -> @thepixelelf

Synopsis: When soulmates are suddenly thrust upon the world, you are one in a million who wishes they weren't -- and that's before you meet the person (people?!) making your life much harder than it needs to be. And before someone asks you to sign an NDA.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Under the Sun ⌗♡୨୧♤ -> @wooahaes

Summary: It all starts when you wake up in a field without a name or any memories to define yourself with. Thirteen men take you in as one of their own, and slowly you begin to wonder what is going on within this world... and between you and one of them.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ thief | ʇsᴉǝɥ ★⌗ -> @meltwonu

synopsis: Working under Jeonghan had it perks. On most days, he was kind and even a little lazy; opting to let you approach certain projects on your own while letting you keep half of the profit. But on the days you royally fuck up are the days that remind you that he’s the one in charge, despite him giving you some semblance of authority.

Seperate member x reader (OT13)

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Tales from the pack ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: The adventures of werewolf!Seventeen as they try to cope with finding their mates, and try their best to stay hidden from the eyes of the humans who want them dead.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Imprinted ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @gamerwoo

Summary: How the thirteen boys met their mates in a modern day world where werewolves must try to blend in with society but keep their secret hidden.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Tales from Camp ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @kwanisms

Synopsis: Thirteen friends reconnect on a camping trip, reminiscing about their times as camp counselors when they were in college.

❙❘❙❙❘❙❚❙❘ ⌕ Don't listen in secret ♡୨୧★⌗ -> @j6shua

imagine being best friends with idol group seventeen! very fun! and you get to sleep with them as a friendly favor! yay... hold on,

in order words, adventures as all of seventeen’s fuck buddy organized into a series masterlist

[ More ot13 fic recs will be updated ]

Want more seventeen fix recs? -> Click here

THIS GUY CAN SLAM ME INTO HELL I WOULD STILL BE GRATEFUL!!?!

Challenge Me - Chapter 10

→ GENRE: smut, college au, crack → PAIRING: Seokmin(DK) x Afab!Fem!Reader (Feat. Mingyu x Afab!Fem!Reader, Seuncheol(S.Coups) x Afab!Fem!Reader) → SYNOPSIS: you have never been a person who turns down a challenge, but when your best friend challenges you to hook up with 13 boys in one semester you kind of wish you were.

→ WARNINGS: oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it!), creampie, degradation (name calling: slut, whore), pet names (baby, princess, darling), loads of dirty talk, extremely toxic behaviour by certain members, posessiveness, Daddy!Cheol, voyeurism, masturbation (m & f), semi-public sex, did i mention dirty talk?

→WORD COUNT: 15k (... i have no explanation)

previous ; masterlist ; next

A/N: Uh... hi! Now, while this didn't take as long as the others, this might be the most chaotic and filthy chapter thus far. I had enormous fun writing this and hope you enjoy it too. As I mentioned before... it's truly filthy. And Cheol is toxic af. But you know, in fiction that's fine!! In real life a no no!

taglist: @ariachavez168, @sandcasltes, @amiga-qmilagraso, @learnthisfeeling, @cersti-mo0, @nixtape-foryou, @minahoeshi, @listxn, @starlight-night0, @havetaeminforbreakfast, @kwonranghaee, @haogyuslut, @a-dramatic-girl, @lovercuff, @grapefruithan, @whyokoa, @lovercheol, @cosmicupoftea, @learnthisfeeling, @knucklesdeepmingi, @wonusworldd, @baldi-2, @seventeencaratworld, @kingalls00, @1-800-jeonwonwoo, @hoeforhao, @p-dwiddle-blog, @tsukimiyuukun, @urfavtallgirl222, @jordand2012, @lcvejordyn, @jeanjacketjesus, @gaebestie, @hara-98-fan, @human-wthout-dreams, @eburneon, @xiusmarshmallow, @spbrax, @speaknowlwt, @lvlyjisung @yogurttea @bitchlessdino @honeykyeom if you're user is crossed out it means I couldn't tag you! please make sure your visibility is turned on! if you want to join the taglist fill out the form or shoot me an ask!

Chan was over the moon, really. He was grabbing a shirt from his closet, since the only fresh out of the dryer one he had given to you. Slipping into a pair of sweats after, he hummed a tune, feeling happier and more relieved than he had in quite some time. Moving out had been stressful, finding this apartment had thankfully taken away a bit of that stress, but the process of getting everything from campus to here – still a task he definitely found hectic and wished to be over soon. During all this, he had gotten help from his friends, Haknyeon and Yohan, who were living in one of the dorms that hadn’t shut down. He had also kind of hoped for his older brother to maybe come and give him a hand, but sadly he had been too busy with his own nearing deadlines and a job he had to keep if he wanted to stay in that nice studio he rented. So, yes, Chan had been stressed and worn out and now he was just worn out but for the best reason he could think of. You. He smiled to himself, closing the door to his closet now and making his way out of his bedroom – only to see you standing next to his couch (god, he loved that couch) holding the family picture his mum had given him once he had moved out and into the dorms.

“Being nosy?” He grinned, his arms wrapping around you, cheek nuzzled against your neck. You would have probably dropped the picture if only you weren’t completely frozen in place. Your brain was working overtime right now, sorting thoughts, trying to remember if he had ever mentioned having a younger brother, if he had ever said something remotely close to having a younger brother.

Maybe this was funny. Maybe this was all hilarious and the best comedy ever produced, and you just didn’t get it. Maybe you should laugh about it and tell Chan that, hey, by the way, the guy next to you in this picture? I fucked him. Twice. Oh, and also sucked his dick. Just, you know, in case this mattered to you, Channie boy!

Instead, you said nothing. You stared at the picture and tried to make sense of it. Because as much as this might be funny for outsiders, to you this was the worst thing that could have possibly happened.

“Y/N?” Chan asked now, parting from you again only to put his hands on your shoulders and turn you around to face him. “Are you okay?”

“Why- who- who is this?” You pointed at the picture. Chan smiled again, his face literally lighting up and for a second you hoped he would say “ah that’s just this guy that happened to be at the photoshoot because my actual brother couldn’t make it and so we hired someone who looks a little bit like him”. He didn’t though.

“Oh, that? That’s my brother, Wonwoo, he’s a few years older than me and I think he goes to your university!”

“Right,” you swallowed the lump in your throat and cleared it after, pulling a hand through your hair as you slightly turned around to put the picture back where it belonged.

“Is everything-,”

“I know him,” you began. There was no point in lying, you figured, or just not telling him, because at one point Wonwoo would come and visit Chan and you would run into both at them by chance and- well, if you had the chance (and the courage that is) to make that situation just a tiny bit less awkward… you’d take it.

“You do?” Chan raised his eyebrows, clearly surprised. You nodded.

“Yeah. I joined his e-sports team at the beginning of the semester and-,” you took a deep breath, both of your hands rubbing over your face, “fuck, okay, I’ll just say it. Chan, I swear I had no idea who you were when I- when this happened, alright?”

“You’re beginning to worry me what is-,” he stopped mid sentence, almost as if he suddenly remembered something.

Judging by the way he now took a step back, with his eyes growing in size every passing second, you could very easily guess what he remembered. A part of you told you to feel bad, to have empathy for him, and for a second you contemplated giving in – only to remind yourself the next second that he couldn’t have known, and neither could you; this wasn’t anyone’s fault and instead of dwelling on and regretting this, you perhaps should just move on and act like it never happened.

“Chan?” You carefully said now, surprised at how calm you suddenly felt. Chan, on the other hand, was not calm.

“You’re her, aren’t you? The girl my brother so desperately wants but can’t have?” Your heart broke a little at that. Did he really have to say it this way? You pressed your lips together and, instead of trying to talk yourself out of the situation and his accusation, you simply nodded. Chan groaned, pulling both his hands through his hair.

“This can’t be happening,” he mumbled, starting to pace up and down the living room. How on earth could this be real? Him being so attracted to his new neighbour and wanting nothing more than to finally do exactly what you had just done, only for this new neighbour to be the girl Wonwoo had been pining after and crying about for the last eternity? It was almost laughable.

“Well, it is happening, Chan. But this doesn’t have to be a big deal, he doesn’t have to know.”

“Oh yeah, he can never find out about this!” Chan turned to look at you again. His face was red if from anger or disappointment or any other negative feeling you couldn’t quite say. All you knew was that he was on the same page as you and that would be enough for now.

“Good. Then I’ll get going now.” The man across from you only nodded, still distraught, and went into the kitchen leaving you to collect your clothes from the floor and finally flee the apartment down the hall and to your own.

-

This had not been your plan. Like ever again. You weren’t supposed to be here, in this familiar place with familiar hands all over you, a way too familiar cock in your mouth. It wasn’t supposed to have you dripping down your thighs, wanting nothing more than for that familiar cock in your mouth to soon fill your needy pussy and fuck you stupid. 

And yet, here you were. On your knees in the office of your Friday lecturer’s office, Mingyu in front of you, his big cock down your throat, hips showing no mercy.

“Told you you’d come back crawling, princess,” he smirked, hands holding your head in place as he fucked down your damaged throat, “knew you would miss my cock splitting you open.”

If you had been in any other headspace you would have probably rolled your eyes because you definitely had not missed him - you had plenty other cock to choose from, but Friday lectures after a stressful week filled with avoiding your neighbor and your best friend and… just trying to somehow maintain a normal life when everything was severely fucked up… it had kind of lead to you wanting someone to take your mind off things. And when Mingyu had walked into the classroom, wearing that stupid sleeveless shirt and the stupid tight jeans, there was only one person you wanted to do the job.

So, there you were now. Choking on his perfect huge cock, your hands on his thighs, tears building up in your eyes as you stared up at his face, the cocky grin having you squeeze your thighs together. 

“God, I missed how well you take my cock down your throat, Y/N. But I missed your pussy even more.”

Pulling his cock out of your mouth now, he had you lifted up and pressed against one of the many bookshelves seconds later, his mouth on yours, kissing you wildly. His tongue massaging yours as his one hand was on his cock, lining it up with your already bare pussy (he had literally torn your panties off the second you had stepped into the office with him) and the other grabbed your braless tit underneath your shirt. 

“O-Oh, Mingyu, f-fuck,” you moaned against his lips when he pushed into you, his lips moving down to your neck, kissing and sucking on your senstive skin and you honestly wondered how on earth you survived all those hickeys you got left and right. 

“Yeah, say my name, you fucking whore,” he groaned, bottoming out and kissing you again, even harsher this time. His hips began moving just as ruthless, books literally falling out from the shelf on impact, your moans getting caught by his mouth, his length feeling incredible inside of you, causing your walls to clench, squeeze him. Mingyu couldn’t help his own sounds, feeling too lucky to have you back around him, to feel your perfect pussy, to have your tit underneath his hand, your nipple in between his fingertips. Too many nights had he spent thinking of you, about how you tasted, how you sounded. And now he was back here, back in this office where it had all started. 

“Cl-close!” you cried out and Mingyu licked your neck up to your earlobe, biting down on it before bringing his thumb to your clit and beginning to draw circles that made your head fall back and another book slip from the shelf.

“Fuck, are you gonna come this quickly for me? You like my cock that much?” Mingyu knew the answer, the cockiness in his voice still having you wrap your legs around him even tighter. 

“Y-yes, I love your cock, f-fucks me so good!” you whined, sure that hearing these words would make Mingyu lose a part of his composure. 

“Fuck, baby, yeah, told you no one can fuck you like me,” He couldn’t help himself anymore, his cock throbbing inside of you, twitching with every word you said, every sound you made. He changed the angle a bit, his hips thrusting up, hitting your sweet spot and making stars appear in front of your eyes. Your nails dug into his shoulders, mouth ripped open as more and more moans escaped you, saying his name like a mantra and finally feeling your orgasm hit you. 

The waves of pleasure made your pussy almost vibrate, Mingyu biting into your neck as he came too, spurts of hot white cum shooting inside of you, making you feel so wonderfully full. He fucked you through both of your orgasms, perfect rhythm and all - until he stopped and parted from you, cock still buried deep inside. His eyes found yours and the cockiness had changed into something else. You gulped down the regret that already started to form.

“Missed you,” Mingyu then mumbled under his breath, his sweaty bangs falling into his forehead and you bit your lip, hand coming up to move them out of his face.

“Did you?” You asked and he nodded, both hands now resting on the backside of your thighs.

“I did, yeah.” 

Nodding slowly, you softly pushed him away, giving him the sign to pull out and drop you back onto the floor. When you landed, you felt your combined releases beginning to spill down and Mingyu was quick to grab some paper towels and wipe them away. 

“I thought after our last meeting you would be… well, you know, not my biggest fan.”

“Why? Because you fucked some of my friends? It’s a free world, Y/N, who would I be if I was mad at you for sleeping with people you want to sleep with?” He carefully got all of the cum wiped away, throwing the towels into the bin by the desk. His words had made your heart somewhat leap - this was definitely a different (and more mature) reaction than Seungcheol or Wonwoo had shown you. Clearing your throat, you pulled your dress back down your thighs, thanking him for cleaning you up in a small voice.

“I guess so. I just- I don’t know it’s all a mess,” you sighed and sat down on one of the chairs in front of the desk. Mingyu followed you, he himself tucked back into briefs and jeans too. Instead of sitting down, he leaned against the desk and crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked down at you.

“I agree, it is messy. But it’s not your fault. I know Wonwoo said some shitty things to you, Y/N, and he was definitely wrong for saying them. But maybe cut him some slack - he is kind of in love with you after all.”

“He won’t be after he found out who I fucked a week ago,” you replied dryly, making Mingyu’s eyebrows shot up.

“Who did you fuck?” He asked and you sighed, leaning back in the chair and crossing one leg over the other.

“His little brother.”

“You fucked Channie?!” Mingyu’s jaw dropped. You laughed bitterly.

“Well, of course you know him, too. How unexpected.” You now also crossed your arms, looking up at Mingyu whose jaw was back in place, a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

“Of course I know Wonwoo’s younger brother, Y/N. He’s one of my closest friends.”

“Do you always fuck the girls your closest friends have feelings for?” 

Perhaps that hadn’t been the right thing to say. The smile disappeared again, leaving room for a frown. 

“Don’t do this, Y/N. Don’t push me away again because you’re scared. Do you really think I don’t know that all of this, all of the fucking around, is because of some sort of challenge you came up with?” 

You sucked in a breath, frozen in place. Of all the things he could have said, you wouldn’t have thought this was one of them. For a moment you contemplated whether to deny all of it. That it wasn’t a challenge and you just liked to have sex with 13 different people in 6 months. But looking at him, seeing how he didn’t judge you, wasn’t mad at you, made you feel like you should be honest with him.

“How do you know?” You asked, your eyes never leaving his face. Mingyu shrugged.

“I kind of guessed. I asked around about you, after we met at the coffee shop. Most of the people I talked to said you were more quiet, even a relationship type of girl. At least until two years ago when you and Jiwoo started challenging each other to do stupid shit, approximately around the time a certain someone graduated and left you two with the knowledge he led both of you on. Does that ring a bell?”

You got up from the chair, the sound of it sliding over the floor making you flinch. 

“Excuse me?”

“I get it, Y/N. He hurt you. He played you and your best friend. Graduated and then let you both know you were screwing the same guy. And instead of talking about it, you came up with challenges that would make you forget, that would get you to heal this wound he created.” Mingyu put his hands on your waist, eyes staring into yours. There once again wasn’t any judgment, just pure understanding. It scared you, the way he got it all so right. 

“I’m guessing the challenge isn’t over yet?” He then continued and you nodded, throat dry and eyes somehow watering.

“No. I still have three more to go.”

Mingyu nodded, hand coming up to cup your chin.

“Then finish your challenge, Y/N. And if you want me, I’ll be waiting.”

Your heart did a leap again and your eyes widened. Did he just- 

“Mingyu, I-,” you started, but he interrupted you by leaning down and kissing you. Softly and without any indication for more. He just kissed you. Lips slowly moving against yours, hand caressing your face. You felt your eyes closing, your hands almost automatically moving up to lay on his cheeks and suddenly you were the one indicating more. You pressed yourself against him, the need to be close to him suddenly so strong. He was right with what he said. You had been different back then, before you had been confronted by the man who had almost broken you and your best friend apart because he loved mind games that much. You had wanted to be with him but he had never called you his. 

“Y/N…,” Mingyu breathed against your lips now, thumb stroking over your cheek. 

“Don’t speak,” you whispered back, closing the small gap once more to kiss him and forget. 

-

Soonyoung was on your apartment floor with several books spread around him. Even though he had wanted to study (after all his extravagant dance school in Europe did not exclude him from the sad reality of a student in South Korea), he had given up about thirty minutes ago, now scrolling on his phone while you were on your couch with your laptop propped on your lap. You hadn’t told him (or anyone) about what had happened with Mingyu yesterday. You also hadn’t returned any of Jiwoo’s calls the past three days, only texting her you were busy and would get back to her after the weekend. Truly, you were sure your best friend suspected something was up, but decided not to pester you about it (yet). 

“Should we order some food?” Soonyoung said after a while of silence and you looked up from your screen and at him. 

“Sure. What are you in the mood for?” 

The two of you decided to go with a simple order of pizza, waiting only for around half an hour to now munch away on the delicious treat. 

“So, what’s up with you, hm?” Soonyoung asked you, back propped against your coffee table, eyebrows raised. You almost choked on your pizza.

“With me? What do you mean?” You asked, trying your best to sound like your normal self. Soonyoung put his pizza down onto his carton and cleaned them on his black joggers. 

“Well, you’ve been staring at your screen for two hours, not getting actual work done. And you’ve barely spoken a word. Also, Jiwoo told me you haven’t really talked to her all week,” Soonyoung looked truly worried, his head slightly tilted to the side. You suppressed a sigh. Of course Jiwoo had talked to him. She had found out about you two becoming close, not exactly jealous but slightly confused as to why you were avoiding her. 

“Fine. Maybe something happened,” you pouted, sinking into your couch, laptop now discarded next to you. Soonyoung looked at you expectantly. Clearing your throat, you felt your heats cheek up.

“I might have… slept with Mingyu again.”

“What?!” Soonyoung’s eyes widened. 

“And after he might have told me he knows about the challenge and is, uhm, waiting for me.”

Silence. Awkward silence. Soonyoung wasn’t even blinking as he stared at you, his mouth dropped. You weren’t surprised by this reaction in the slightest. Sighing, you threw your hands in the air.

“I know, okay?! I know I shouldn’t have slept with him, but I can’t exactly take it back now.”

“Truthfully I don’t really care about you fucking him again, Y/N, I am more concerned about him waiting for you. Does that mean he likes you?!”

“I guess so? God, I don’t know, Soonyoung. He didn’t… we didn’t talk much after that.”

Soonyoung deadpanned at you.

“Did you fuck again after?” 

Instead of answering you took another bite from your pizza. Soonyoung fell to the floor dramatically.

“You are unbelievable, Y/N. I hope you’re aware.”

Oh yes, you definitely were. 

-

Another day passed, and you sat at your living room table eating lunch. You hadn’t talked to Mingyu at all, even though he had texted you. A part of you wanted to forget about what had happened because considering your already confused feelings, this was the last thing you needed. A past fuck-buddy suddenly declaring he would wait for you to finish fucking three other guys. Sighing, you shoved your plate away, wondering if perhaps ignoring Jiwoo had been the wrong thing to do, when suddenly you felt your phone vibrate. It wasn’t a number you had saved and for a second you contemplated just not answering, but did it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Miss. It’s Lee Seokmin speaking, Choi Seungcheol’s assistant.”

You immediately got up from your chair. What the hell? Why was Seungcheol’s assistant calling you? A strange feeling appeared in your stomach and you tried to shake it off, your hand balling into a fist.

“What do you want?” You finally replied, hoping you didn’t sound too harsh. Seokmin on the other line looked over at the door to Seungcheol’s office, clearing his throat.

“Mr. Choi would like to send you a car to come pick you up and meet him at his office.”

You felt yourself starting to laugh. He wanted to do what? Send you a car? Meet you? Who the fuck did he think he was?

“Does he now? Well, you can tell Mr. Choi that I’m not interested in seeing him. Ever again!”

“Well, Mr. Choi did expect you to say that, Miss. He wanted me to inform you that the job he offered you is still on the table and would earn you 7 Million Won.”

The phone almost dropped out of your hand. 7 Million Won?! Was he out of his goddamn mind?! Anger filled you, anger towards him for thinking he could buy your forgiveness and towards yourself for actually considering the offer. It wasn’t like you desperately needed money, but 7 Million Won wasn’t something to just… turn down. You took a deep breath, contemplating your options.

“When?” You sat down on your couch.

“The car could be there in an hour.” You stood up again.

“An hour?!” 

“Yes, Miss. If you’re not sure, we can also arrange a car to pick you up later.”

“N-no. An hour is fine.”

Hanging up the phone shortly after, you wondered how you always found yourself in situations like this. Maybe because you didn’t know how to say no. Or because you liked to suffer. Liked the thrill of getting into scenarios that were completely unpredictable. 

Judging by the way you ran into your bedroom, eyes scanning over every item of clothing you owned, this situation had been caused by more than just you loving to do the unpredictable. You, or at least a sick part of you, wanted to see him. Even after that stunt he had pulled, you found yourself thinking of him. Missing him. Even yesterday when you had been with Mingyu a part of your subconscious had wondered if perhaps it should have been Cheol you went to for relief. 

The car did show up an hour later. Anxiety spread through you as you walked to the elevator, knowing full well you were wearing sexy underwear under your pencil skirt and low cut, tight fitted, long sleeved shirt. You had dressed to impress and you hated yourself for it. Seungcheol shouldn’t be in your head anymore. You should be over him, should at least try to get over him. Instead you were here in some of your sexiest clothes on the way to see him, the driver nodding at you through the rearview mirror. You smiled with your lips pressed together, your hands tightly clasped together in your lap. Whatever was waiting for you at the office, the only thing you cared about was seeing him, maybe even touching him. Thinking about the last time you saw him, your thighs automatically pressed together. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Wanting a man so obviously immature should be below you! He had taken your call while another woman was sucking him off! He was a child, a stupid, stupid child that did not deserve your infatuation. And yet. 

The car stopped in front of one of the taller skyscrapers, the driver opening the door for you. Your breath was stuck in your throat, thanking the man with a small smile and a nod of your head. It was as if you had been ported back to your first date with Seungcheol. Arriving at the hotel, going inside. Seeing him. Just thinking about the elevator ride and what happened after dinner… you shivered as you walked through one of the revolving doors, your heart beating in your ears. Your bag was safely under your arm, and you hoped and prayed you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. Walking further inside, you saw a tall man standing at one of the automatic gates, his eyes glued to the iPad he was holding in one of his big hands. He was wearing a fitted pinstripe suit, a pair of round specs on his well defined sharp nose. His hair was styled upwards, only a few strands falling into his forehead and when you almost reached him, his head lifted and you looked into a pair of sparkling brown eyes that made you almost trip over your own feet.

“You must be Y/N. Welcome. I’m Lee Seokmin. It is a pleasure to meet you in person.” He bowed to you once and you quickly followed, trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 

“You too, thanks.” You smiled when you were in an upright position again. Seokmin nodded once before reaching out his arm, leading you to the gate that now opened. Walking through it, you tried to somehow convince yourself that you were not extremely attracted to Seungcheol’s assistant. What was it with you and handsome men these days? Could you ever be around, let’s say, mediocre looking people that did not have your pussy flutter just by looking at them? Jesus. 

“Mr. Choi is waiting for you upstairs. Please, after you.” The elevator doors opened and you thanked Seokmin once again, going inside. You watched as he pressed the highest number on the buttons, your eyes widening slightly before looking ahead. Perhaps you were confused about the family business - Jiwoo had never really mentioned what her parents did, nor what Seungcheol was working as. Instead of dwelling on it (maybe it was like Chandler in Friends or Barney in How I Met Your Mother and you just weren’t supposed to know what they did for a living) you waited for the elevator to arrive and finally stepped out when you reached your destination. You were greeted by a grand entryway, luxurious couches on both sides of the room, facing the windows showing the skyline of the city. Flowers stood in crystal vases on the glass tables in front of the couches and there were magazines spread around them. On the far right side stood a small reception where a blonde woman was talking on the phone, bowing her head at you and Seokmin when she spotted you. 

“Please follow me.” Seokmin put his hand on the small of your back for just half a second, but you felt the spot burn nonetheless. Pathetic, really. You blew air into your cheeks, trying to get rid of the thoughts swarming your head. You had gotten laid literally less than 36 hours ago! 

Seokmin led you through a hallway that eventually ended in big wooden doors he now opened. The light coming in through the window was beautiful. It made the whole room look friendly. There was a light brown, wood desk at the side, right next to the huge window. A chair stood behind and a fancy computer on top of it. Countless documents were stacked neatly next to the monitor and you guessed this was Seokmin’s space. You watched him walk to the other wooden door, knocking two times before opening it. 

“Mr. Choi, she is here.” 

You heard his voice only muffled. It still made goosebumps erupt all over. Quickly, you took a deep breath, closing your eyes for a second while Seokmin was still distracted. You brought back the phone call with him, the girl he had on his dick while he talked to you. Brought back how you had felt, the anger, the hurt. The crack in your heart for whatever reason. When you opened your eyes again, the nervousness had made room for just the anger you needed. 

“You can go inside now.” Seokmin once again bowed his head and you smiled at him, before walking inside the office. The door closed behind you and the air inside the big office suddenly felt incredibly stiff. 

There he stood. Suit, but the jacket discarded over the armchair in front of his grand desk. His first few buttons open, suspenders on his broad frame, somehow making him look even sexier than he already was. His hair was styled up, kind of like Seokmin, just a bit more neat. And his eyes were on you the second you had walked inside. His burning, deep brown eyes that almost made you forget all this anger inside of you. 

Quickly, you let your eyes wander the room.

“We’re alone.” You said matter of factly and Seungcheol scoffed.

“Who else do you want here?” He asked, taking a few steps further into the room. You now also saw his tight dress pants, the way they hugged his thighs so perfectly. You swallowed, before looking back into his face sternly.

“I thought I was earning 7 million Won today?” 

The corners of his lips twitched, a smirk making its way onto them. 

“Right. The job. Well, I can’t just hire you without an interview first,” he explained, leaning against one of the armchairs placed on the left side of the room. There were two of them, right across from a couch of the same dark green velvet. You stared at him for a few seconds, the urge to yell at him so strong.

“An interview?” You repeated and he nodded, crossing his arms in front of his chest and god, how much you wanted to touch him, feel his pecks underneath your fingers, feel the way he breathed. 

“Nothing gets handed to you these days, sweetheart.” 

The word caught you off guard. Your thighs instinctively pressed together. 

“You offered me this job, Seungcheol. Pretty sure that inquires no interview needed,” you shook your head, “I didn’t come here for games, if you won’t-”, but you didn’t get any further, because suddenly he was right there in your space, his breath almost hitting your cheek as his hands were firm on your waist. You felt yourself gasp, looking up into his handsome face.

“I can’t do this, Y/N,” his voice was just a whisper, a desperate whisper filled with so many emotions you felt like your head was about to fall off, “I can’t- fuck, I wanted to call you so many times.”

“Yeah? And would there have been a girl sitting on your cock while you did?” You somehow managed to sound venomous, even though you felt your panties stick to you, your pussy throbbing painfully. Cheol groaned, hands wandering to the small of your back and pushing you closer to him. You didn’t stop him even though you knew you should’ve. 

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was immature. Jealous. Hearing Jiwoo telling me about you and the challenge… I was so mad. I felt used. And then it dawned on me that I wasn’t the first and most definitely not the last and, fuck, the jealousy drove me nearly mad. I wanted to get back at you, wanted to make you feel the way I did, but it was dumb, so, so dumb.” 

While he spoke he came closer to you, his lips now pressed against your cheek, his fingers grabbing the fabric of your skirt. You clenched around nothing. 

“Y-you took my call with another girl sucking your cock, Seungcheol, what the fuck were you thinking.” Without even really taking notice, your hands moved up, now on his biceps, digging into the dress shirt. He shook his head, lips now on your neck, not kissing you, just letting them glide over your skin, his nose breathing in your intoxicating scent.

“I know, baby, I know I did. Fuck, the truth is I had her waiting there the whole fucking day, hoping you’d call when my sister gave you my card. And when Seokmin told me you were on the line… I swear she was on my cock only as long as you stayed on the line, baby, I swear to you.” 

Pathetic. Was what you should’ve been thinking. And a part of you was, a part of you wanted to push him away and tell him he was sick, but the bigger part stayed right there, letting his breath hit your skin, his hands roam, over your back and finally onto your ass, pushing you even closer, making you feel his hard length against you. And now there was no stopping the moan coming out of you. Right then he kissed you, his lips hot and wet on yours, desperation making both of you part your mouths, tongue finding tongue, a dance as crazy as you both felt erupting between them. Your hands tangled in his hair as he lifted you up, crashing into the next wall, making one of the (probably very expensive) paintings fall to the floor. Neither of you cared. Instead he kissed you harder, one hand now moving in between your legs, feeling your wet core, making him groan.

“Fuck, baby, so, so wet, so hot for Daddy, aren’t you?” You nodded rapidly, hands on his face, pulling him closer, kissing him again. Teeth and tongue and hotness, your head was filled with nothing but cotton and him. 

“Shit, I missed you so much,” he breathed against your lips before continuing, his strong arms now carrying you over to the sideboard where he shoved down whatever was on there, placing you on it and getting rid of your panties immediately. He held them in his hand for a second, before he shoved them into his back pocket. 

“God, fuck, pl-please fuck me, Daddy, need you so bad!” You cried out, your hands on his belt and he groaned, nodding the way you did before. He let you open his belt and pants and then proceeded to get out of them, his huge cock springing free a second later when his briefs were down by his ankles as well. You whimpered at the sight.

“Think you can take me, sweetheart?” He asked, hands on your face, kissing down your jaw and you wrapped your legs back around his waist, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you senseless.

“Y-yes, need you to split me open with your huge cock, Daddy, pl-please.” Cheol sloppily kissed your neck, moaning at your words. He loved to hear you beg, loved to hear you call his cock huge, loved to hear you wanting him to fuck you. Quickly, he grabbed the base of his girth, lining it up with your tight cunt, his tip being sucked in immediately by your wet heat. You gasped, hands on his still clothed shoulders. He leaned his forehead against yours as he pushed in further, your cunt apparently still stretched open from Mingyu from the day prior, but you shook the thought off, instead moving your hips to meet him, your pussy taking even more of him now. His groan made your whole body shiver and once he bottomed out, he kissed you again, his tongue in your mouth immediately. It was still desperate, still hot, still crazy. When he did his first thrust your eyes rolled back into your head and the moan escaping you came from deep within.

“Fuck, y-yeah, your tight pussy takes my cock so well, such a good slut for Daddy, just for Daddy,” he murmured, lips sucking on your neck as he continues thrusting, the pain turning into pleasure real quick. You let your hips move with his, head leaned against the wall behind you, the sideboard banging on the floor with every move. Cheol felt like his cock had never been inside a pussy this good. His whole body shook, wanting to paint you white but also to never stop fucking you. Every time your walls clenched around him he felt a little closer to heaven, the sounds you were making more than just music to his ears. 

“A-Am close, Daddy!” You cried out, fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and Seungcheol grabbed your thighs, changing the angle slightly.

“Are you gonna cum on Daddy’s cock, baby?” He thrusted even harder now and you basically screamed his name, nodding when suddenly you felt his thumb on your clit, stars appearing before your eyes as you felt your orgasm hit you almost out of the blue.

“F-fuck, Daddy, I- oh my god!” The orgasm made all of your vision go blurry and because he hadn’t finished yet he fucked you right into another one, his lips on yours, your arms tired around his neck, but the pleasure still so strong in your veins.

“Did so well for Daddy, such a good girl, gonna make Daddy cum with your perfect pussy,” his voice was shaking with lust and you clenched around him once again, bringing him even closer to the edge.

“P-Please cum inside me, Daddy, want you to breed me, want you to fill me up s-so good, want your cum so bad, a-ah!” It was almost like a spell, your words. Cheol’s orgasm hit him hard, spurts of thick white cum filling your spent pussy just as you hit your second orgasm, whiny moans making Seungcheol’s head spin.

“Fuck, you’re perfect, baby.” 

His forehead was back to being pressed against yours, both of you only slowly coming down from your highs. 

You felt his sweet kisses before you opened your eyes again. He kissed your cheek and your jaw, kissed your neck and moved up to kiss your lips again. Soft and with so many feelings you were almost sure you’d start crying any second. What had you done? Once again, you had crossed this line, had decided to put your friendship with Jiwoo on the line because what? You wanted some good dick? 

Sighing inside of you, you knew that wasn’t true anymore. There was more to this and if you were smart enough, you would try to figure it out before you did anything else with anyone (read as: Mingyu). 

“Cheol…” You didn’t know where the nickname came from, but it was now out in the open and when you opened your eyes and looked at him, saw the way his eyes sparkled, you felt your stomach and heart jump.

“Don’t say it, please,” he whispered, his hand softly caressing your cheek and you bit your lip, letting your own hands move up and cup his face.

“I won’t. I don’t have to.” You leaned in to kiss him again, his soft lips made for yours, and your heart was beating rapidly just as much as it was breaking. 

Seungcheol had gotten you some paper-towels, helping you clean up and you were now seated on one of the green velvet armchairs, basically twiddling your thumbs waiting for him to come back from wherever he had gone after handing you the towels. You wanted to leave, or at least you thought you did. Leave and use the bathroom and don’t ever turn back. 

When the door opened, you stood up, seeing him walk back inside. He looked at you once the door was closed.

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N. And I respect your feelings, I truly do,” he walked over to you, stopping when he reached you. He was itching to touch you, but he also wanted to give you space.

“But the truth is, you never asked Jiwoo what she’d think about you and me. You just assumed she’d hate the idea.”

“I don’t even know what I think about you and me, Cheol.” You replied, a slight pain shooting through his heart. 

“I don’t believe you.” He breathed and you sighed, shaking your head.

“It’s complicated, everything is just so fucking complicated.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” 

Something in his tone made you look up again. There was a certain look in his eyes - a determination you hadn’t seen before. As much as it was hot it was making you nervous, too.

“What do you mean?” You carefully asked, crossing your arms.

“I mean that I took care of it for you. I respect and admire your will to finish the challenge you accepted. As much as I hate to think about you with another man, or in this case, several other men, I don’t want to make you feel as if I don’t respect your wishes.”

He now dared to put his hands on your shoulders, thumb caressing you over your shirt. You stayed silent, mainly because you had absolutely no idea where this was going. He took care of it for you? What the hell was that supposed to mean?

“What I am saying is, I found three men you can finish this challenge with. Men I trust, that I know won’t try anything with you after it’s done.”

Your jaw dropped and so did your arms. His words rang in your ears and still needed a while to be processed.

“You- you did what?!” you exhaled and Seungcheol nervously bit his lip.

“Look, I know this is weird, but the sooner you get this over with… the sooner you can tell if you want to be with me.”

You were truly speechless. Seungcheol had found you three men? To sleep with? You had to sit down. The plush armchair was perfect to catch your worn out frame. You shook your head.

“What the fuck? Where did you- what did you? What?” Looking back at him you watched as he now took a seat on the couch across from you. He folded his hands, arms laying over his thighs as he leaned forward, clearing his throat.

“I think it’s the best thing. You get this over with and you’re free from all of your drama, Y/N. Just think about it.”

“And who are these men?” Ignoring his words, you asked the next relevant question. Cheol licked his lips and looked over to the door. Then, with his voice loud and clear:

“Come in!”

You froze in place, watching the door open and two men stepping in. One of them was Seokmin, the other you hadn’t seen before - or you thought you hadn’t. The closer he came, the clearer you recognized him as the guy who had picked you up earlier. Your eyes widened. 

“You already know Seokmin and Vernon. They are some of my most trustworthy employees. And I would say they are handsome enough for you to enjoy them. But, of course, it is up to you.” 

This was ridiculous. But then, what about your life hadn’t been these days? Pressing your lips together, you looked from the two back to Seungcheol.

“That’s only two,” you stated the obvious. Cheol nodded.

“Well, yes. Jeonghan is still on a business trip. While Seokmin is my assistant and Vernon my personal driver, Jeonghan is my business partner. He has his office on the other side of the floor.”

He had really planned it all, through and through, as if it was one of his projects at work. Getting up, you began pacing back and forth, finally stopping and pointing at Seokmin and Vernon that still stood behind Cheol kind of awkwardly.

“You want me to fuck them?” You asked then, making Cheol clench his jaw. He followed you, also getting up.

“I want you to fuck them once. Once and never again.”

“Still. You would know I did it. Wouldn’t that bother you?”

“Why would it bother me? You’re an adult, Y/N, you can sleep with whoever you want.”

“Even your friends?”

“They aren’t my friends, they are my employees.”

“So you’re a pimp now?”

Cheol’s eyebrow twitched.

 “Y/N.” 

You sigh audibly, throwing your hands in the air.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Seungcheol. This is absurd! You can’t just go and pick who I sleep with!”

“Didn’t Jiwoo do the same?”

“That is totally different and you know it.” You stretched out your index, pointing at him accusingly. He sighed, pulling a hand through his hair.

“I know what you’re thinking. And yeah, maybe this is a bit about controlling who you’re with before you make a definite decision about us. Perhaps this is selfish and wrong of me, fuck, it most definitely is. But I just need you to understand that I am serious about this, about you. I want to be with you, but I also don’t want you to give up your pride. I understand where you’re coming from, and as much as it may bother me I know this isn’t about me. Asking them to do this for me, to sleep with you, it wasn’t easy for me, and you can still say no, I won’t force you into this.”

With every word he said, you found yourself more and more torn. Because, yes, it was indeed selfish and controlling of him. But then again, if you just did this it would be over. You could continue your life and hope to somehow get back to where it was before the semester started. Swallowing down your doubts and anger, you finally breathed out.

“Fine. I’ll do it. But I hope you know this is not a certain yes that I want to be with you after the challenge is completed.”

“Yes. I know.” He dared to walk a few steps towards you, his eyes set on yours and, god, why was he so good looking? So pretty and yet so infuriating. You shook your head, not entirely sure what to do with yourself or the situation.

Seokmin and Vernon were still in the room with you and you shifted your gaze from Seungcheol to them.

“And you’re okay with this?” You asked, unsure. The two men nodded and you sighed, letting a hand run through your hair in distress. Great, they were on board at least. How exactly this was going to go though? You had no idea. Looking back at Cheol, you took a deep breath.

“You’re crazy, I hope you’re aware,” you said. Cheol smiled slightly, daring to softly caress your cheek.

“Crazy about you, darling.”

-

It had been a week. A full week since Seungcheol had told you that little plan of his and you had yet to hear from either of his “employees”. You found it ridiculous, considering you hadn’t even been a fan of the idea in the first place and now they couldn’t even be bothered to call you? 

Coming out of your last class that Monday, your mind was already somewhere else (exams, that is) you almost missed the well dressed man leaning against his car outside the building. Only when he called your name, did you look up. 

“Seokmin?” You asked, surprise displayed on your face. The handsome man nodded, his jaw a little tightened. 

“We need to talk,” he said, opening the door of the passenger seat. You frowned, looking around before finally getting in, your bag safely stored between your legs. He had a nice car. A German brand, you noted. Seokmin got in on the driver’s side, closing his door and finally turning to you. 

“So, uhm, what do we need to talk about?” Watching Seokmin, the way his knuckles turned white as he held onto the steering wheel a little too strong. His well fitted black suit strained around his thighs and you swallowed hard, wondering if he had picked you up to do what his boss asked of him. 

“Vernon and I told Seungcheol we already slept together.” The words took a few seconds to reach your brain and once they did, your eyes widened and you sat up, one hand finding balance on the seat underneath you.

“You did what?!” 

“We are going to the office right now and you need to tell him it’s true.” Seokmin turned to look at you, your mouth hanging open. 

“We are… what? You expect me to lie to him?”

“Yes, that’s exactly it, smart girl.” 

“Woah, no. I can’t lie to him, he will know I am!

The glint in his eyes made you flinch. While he seemed to be a proper young man, sweet on the outside, something slumbered inside him and you weren’t too keen on finding out what it was. If lying to Cheol made all of this go away - so be it. Perhaps he didn’t know you as well as you thought - perhaps he would buy it and you were free. 

“What about the other one? Jeonghan?” You asked as you put your seatbelt on and Seokmin started the car. 

“He’s in it too. Obviously he can’t say he had sex with you yet since he’s still on his business trip, but once he is back…” He began to drive off, your nod going unnoticed by him. While he drove, you allowed yourself to check him out a little more. Whilst you were sure that you wanted to avoid the inevitable complications it would bring if you were to sleep with him - it wasn’t like he wasn’t someone you’d consider if the circumstances were any different. He was tall and handsome, with a face shaped like a Greek gods. His black hair was styled upwards, once again only a few strands falling into his forehead. The little mole underneath his eye, right there on his cheek looking so endearing.

He drove the car in silence not mentioning if he saw you staring and you decided that not speaking to him would do you more good than not. Arriving at the office around ten minutes later, he held the door open for you and you thanked him with a nod, your bag back on your shoulder. You followed him inside, the now familiar entrance hall and elevators greeting you in their elegant demeanor just like last time. Just like back then you were extremely nervous, feeling sweat forming on your hands, your teeth continuously gnawing on your bottom lip. Seokmin and you entered the elevator and you tried to calm your beating heart. This was going to be fine. You had lied many times before - maybe not about something like this to someone you had a very… specific… relationship with, but… yeah. You gulped when the doors opened and Seokmin led you to where he had a week ago. Knocking on the door once, he then continued to open it, again letting you go ahead. 

Seungcheol was leaning against his desk, hands holding onto its edge. Your eyes met his immediately and your stomach did a flip while the rest of your insides seemed to tighten uncomfortably. 

“Very well, we’re all here.” He pushed himself off the table, hands now shoved into the pockets of his tight pants that made his thighs look extremely delicious. Only when you stopped staring at his legs did you register what he said. Your head moved to the side and you saw Vernon sitting on the armchair across from the couch, your eyes widening slightly. 

“Seokmin, take a seat next to Vernon, won’t you.” Cheol said, but his eyes were locked on you. His assistant nodded and walked over to the driver, presenting him with a nod before taking his place on the other armchair. The second he was seated, Cheol walked over to you in three big steps, his arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you closer. You gasped at the sudden contact, hands finding Cheol’s chest.

“Tell me, darling, did you fuck them?” His eyes said something you couldn’t grasp and while your throat dried up, your head still somewhat knew how to function and nodded. The man holding you close clicked his tongue.

“Use your words, baby.” His grip around you tightened and you cursed yourself for feeling that right between your legs. Pressing your thighs together, you cleared your throat.

“Yes, I did.” 

Seungcheol watched you closely, eyes roaming over your face, your neck and chest. He saw the mark he had left slightly fading and a small smile played on his lips.

“Is that right?” He mumbled, looking at Vernon and Seokmin for only a split second before his attention was back on you.

“Tell me then. Tell me what they did to you.”

The request caught you off guard. Seokmin and Vernon froze in their seats, not daring to look at each other. This had not been part of the plan. Seokmin tried to stay positive - neither he nor Vernon had given Seungcheol any details of your presumed nights together which meant you had full creative control. But then again, Seokmin thought, would he be okay listening to you sharing a story about how he fucked you? He shifted on his seat, his poker face staying even with his dick uncomfortably twitching inside his briefs. 

Now, you looked over at the two men, not able to read anything in their blank faces. Fine, this was up to you then. Clearing your throat again, you looked back at Cheol.

“You sure?” You wanted to know. Seungcheol nodded, his arm still tightly wrapped around you.

“Fine,” you dropped your bag onto the floor, “Seokmin fucked me in the back of his car. Right about a day after your little presentation. He didn’t wait long, just pulled me onto the backseat, fingered me open for him and then took me from behind until he came.”

You were impressed with yourself, your voice didn’t go up higher, nor did you stop looking at him during any time of your little speech. Seungcheol’s face was unreadable. 

“Did he make you cum?” He asked then. You shook your head.

“He watched as I finished myself off.” 

Wherever that confidence came from - you weren’t sure. You didn’t notice the way Seokmin’s eyes narrowed or how he crossed his legs, didn’t notice how angry splashes of red appeared on his neck. He had watched you getting yourself off? Please, if anything he’d make you cum with his fingers, cock and mouth. He would never just come and then leave you to finish the job yourself. Still, he remained calm, leaning back in the chair and ignoring the images of you on the backseat of his car, of his cock repeatedly thrusting into you. 

“Vernon?” Cheol continued then. 

“It was in my apartment three days ago. I invited him over and we had dinner. We both wanted to get it over with, but also to have it be pleasurable nonetheless. So, we started making out and I eventually rode his cock till he came.”

Vernon felt his blood rush down south at that thought. Little did you or anyone else in this room know how far this was from anything that had happened to him in real life. 

“Did he make you cum, baby?” Cheol asked, one hand now cupping your face. You shook your head. 

“No. I finished myself off when he was gone.”

While it did hurt his pride a little bit, Vernon understood what you were doing. He still couldn’t help himself imagining what you’d look like with your fingers pounding into your cunt. 

For a few seconds Cheol was quiet. Then, he chuckled lowly. Your heart dropped. Shit. He parted from you, cracking his neck once, twice, before looking over at his two employees, slash, friends.

“So, you two can’t even do this one thing for me?” He asked calmly, and Vernon and Seokmin got up, ready to defend themselves, when Seungcheol shook his head, holding up one of his big hands. 

“Perhaps,” he began, “Perhaps, I need to show you what you missed out on.”

Your ears perked up at that, heat rising inside of you, gaze on Seungcheol’s back. Show them what they missed out on? When he turned around, his eyes full of fire, you felt yourself gasp. He had pulled you close again, his chest pressed against yours, head leaned forward, lips right by your ear.

“Liars get punished, baby,” he whispered, “should I fuck you right here in front of them? Give them a show?” 

The small groan coming out of your mouth gave you away. Seungcheol kissed you then, hot and demanding, his tongue thrusting into your mouth from the get go. He let his hands roam over your body, shoving up your shirt and groping your tits, having you moan into his mouth as he finally picked you up and laid you down onto the couch, right into Seokmin and Vernon’s view. 

“S-Sir, we- we can g-go,” Vernon stuttered, eyes glued to the way your shirt had risen up, showing your stomach and a little bit of your underboob and, god, Vernon was already hard. 

“If you want to, go. But I doubt either of you wants to miss this, isn’t that right, darling?” Cheol smirked down at you, your face hot and your pussy throbbing for him already. 

“Sit down and enjoy the show because I fear this is the closest you will get to this pussy, boys.”

Vernon plopped back down onto the armchair then, his mouth already hanging low while Seokmin was torn. A part of him wanted to stay, wanted to see you get railed, wanted to save the pictures for later when he was alone, imagining it was him instead of Seungcheol fucking you. Another part wanted to leave though. He definitely didn’t want to be part of Cheol’s sick game. He already did everything for that jerk, why the hell should he comply even now? 

But the second he heard your moan, Seokmin found himself sitting back down. The sound went straight to his cock and he crossed his legs like he had before, trying to ignore how tight his pants were growing. 

Cheol had moved between your legs, hands gripping your bare thighs, silently thanking you for wearing that skirt today. He pressed kisses onto your flesh, biting into it after, making you moan. Hands found your panties, pulling them down and inhaling your scent just then, licking his lips. 

Dashing forward, he sunk his tongue into your folds, fingers still digging into your skin. Seeing red, you let your hands move to his head, nails almost hurting his scalp. You moaned out loud when his lips closed around your clit and a finger found its way into your tight heat. 

“Tastes so fucking good,” Cheol mumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear, “bet you regret not being able to taste her pussy, isn’t that right?” He sucked your clit into his mouth again, tongue flicking against it in a fast rhythm and you arched your back, crying out his name. Cheol was wonderful with his mouth and fingers, maybe even deserved a medal for the way he coordinated his finger and tongue, how he licked into your hole and up your folds, how he devoured your bud as if it was a delicacy in a 5 star restaurant. 

“Hear how wet she is? My little slut likes being watched, doesn’t she?” Cheol moved forward now, pressing two fingers into you and pumping them in and out at a fast pace. You gasped, hands on his biceps, holding on for dear life.

“D-Daddy!” you cried out and Cheol smirked, looking over at Seokmin and Vernon who were both staring at you.

“That’s right, cry out for me, baby.” He picked up the pace, licking his lips before he dipped down, kissing you again, more tongue and teeth than anything else. Your hips were chasing his movements, fingers digging into his muscular arms. 

“Holy.” Vernon swallowed, his hand pressing down onto his crotch to get some kind of friction. His mind was racing, everything kind of a blur while his cock was getting harder with every second. Seokmin, meanwhile, was sitting quietly on his chair, eyes locked on you. He thrived on the way you arched your body, the way your face was pulled into a grimace, your mouth hanging open, eyes squeezed shut. He didn’t even try to control the erection in his pants, knowing well enough it was only going to get worse. 

“Should I show them your pussy, baby? Do you want them to see how wet you are?” Seungcheol pulled his fingers out of you, your juices so visible on them for everyone to see. Vernon whimpered at the sight, while Seokmin stayed put. Your chest was heaving, watching how Cheol moved up again, letting his fingers sink into your mouth. You sucked them in, tongue swirling around them as if they were his cock. Cheol felt his dick twitch and he licked his lips, your taste forever the sweetest he had ever tasted. 

He then moved you, having both your legs hang off the couch, spreading them for Seokmin and Vernon to see, both of them holding their breaths as they saw your needy cunt, the way you were dripping, your eyes wide and so full of lust Vernon couldn’t help but reach into his pants, palming himself over his boxers, eyes glued to your glistening folds.

“Look at that, looks like Vernon likes your pussy, baby. Bet he wishes he could be the one to do this, hm?” Cheol let three fingers push into you now, the stretch making you cry out in pleasure, holding onto the edge of the couch as your head fell backwards. The sounds it made, the way his fingers reached you right where you needed him to, pushed into that spot over and over again, your walls clenching around him more often than not.

“Yeah, look at how well that pretty pussy takes my fingers, such a good girl for Daddy,” Cheol mumbled more to himself than anyone else, even though he was still aware of the two other men in the room. He loved watching you come undone, loved the way you moaned, cried, whimpered  - every sound you made was like music to him. A symphony he could never grow tired of. 

“D-Daddy, pl-please!” Your eyes were rolling back, your hips lifting off the couch, about to reach your high, stomach tightening - when Cheol pulled his fingers out and instead slapped down onto your clit having your body jerk and tears building up behind your eyes.

“I told you, liars need to be punished.” Without any warning, he grabbed your hips again, having you on all fours on the couch, his cock freed from his pants, pumping it once, twice, before slapping his free hand onto your asscheek. You moaned, almost losing balance and your eyes flew to the side when you heard Vernon moan again. His hand was inside his boxers now, jerking off without any control, hand flying up his cock in rapid movements. Seokmin was still not moving. Your eyes stayed on him even when Cheol rammed into you, his one hand on your hip, the other around your neck.

The eye contact made Seokmin question his sanity even more. Why the fuck would you look at him right now, why would you not close your eyes and enjoy Seungcheol fucking you? The moans that erupted your whole body as Seungcheol began thrusting made Seokmin almost come untouched. He balled his hands to fists, ignoring the urge to touch himself. You were still looking at him, your hair falling into your face as Seungcheol pulled you up, hand fully wrapped around your neck as he fucked into you hard and quick. 

“Tell them how good I fuck you, baby.” Cheol groaned when you clenched around his length and you whimpered, eyes rolling back for a second.

“Y-you fuck me so good, Daddy.” Your voice was shaking with lust and pent up frustration and Seokmin felt himself twitch again, felt how close he was to release without even doing anything. Pathetic. 

“That’s right. My little slut wants me to fill her up, isn’t that right? Wants her pussy full of cum.” His thrusts got faster as he spoke and you could only nod, eyes back to their original position - looking right at Seokmin. You couldn’t really say why you felt the need to look at him, maybe because you wanted to challenge him, make him touch himself. It reminded you of the time Seungkwan had watched you and Wonwoo in the library and how he had needed encouragement to touch himself. Right now you felt like there was more behind Seokmin’s actions, though. He knew he could touch himself, after all Vernon was going on himself like a horny teenager, but Seokmin didn’t want to. He wanted to prove a point. And you wanted to break him. You let another moan out, your hands moving to shove up your shirt, showing both of them your tits for the very first time, your hands massaging them harshly, thumb and index pinching your nipple. Cheol noticed, groaning as he changed the angle one more time, kneeling down with you on his lap, fucking up into you now.

“Putting on a show, aren’t you? Such a little whore, fuck.” Cheol took over your own task, massaging your tits as he fucked into you and you let your fingers spread your pussy, circling your clit as you let your head fall back, hips bouncing off Cheol’s lap now. Your cunt pulsated around him, his cock hitting your sweet spot with every single thrust and you were sure you were about to come.

“D-Daddy, a-am so close, c-can I please come?”

“You think you deserve to cum?” Cheol let out an evil chuckle, before pushing you off of him, his cock slipping out of your pussy, your orgasm once again denied. You almost fell of the couch, but Cheol caught you, turning you back around to face him. Then he pushed your head down, his cock slipping between your lips easily, a surprised gasp erupting you the same time as his cock slid down your throat.

“Told you already, liars get punished. That’s why those two aren’t allowed to touch you and you,” he thrusted up, a cough jerking your whole body and drool ran down Seungcheol’s shaft, “you don’t get to come on my cock or my fingers. Now, take Daddy’s cum like the good whore you are.”

He began to fuck your throat to the fullest now, tip being the only thing left in your mouth before he rammed his hips forward, repeating this motion until tears streamed down your face, your pussy throbbing from all the need and neglect, his cock finally pulling out of you - only to have his hot and thick cum land all over your face and neck, his moans of your name only making you needier. Cheol fell back into the cushions, his cock still in his hand. 

“Good girl, such a good girl. Common, show us how good you can make yourself come, isn’t that what you did in your stories, too?”

Your eyes widened, realizing that you did this to yourself. Your head was cloudy, only thing on your mind was to release and so you didn’t wait any longer, leaning back on the couch, back hitting the armrest as you spread your legs, letting two fingers slip into you, while the other hand was squeezing your tit, back arching as your hips chased that sweet orgasm you earned for.

“Fuck, look at you. Such a good whore, so, so needy.” Cheol lazily stroked his softening cock, enjoying the view of you with his cum all over you, fucking yourself with your fingers. 

Vernon, meanwhile, had finished into his boxers approximately around the same time as Cheol had shot his load onto your face. Now, he kind of regretted it. Seeing you like this, the way you fucked yourself, the way you whimpered, cried, tears mixing with the cum on your face, both dripping down your chin and onto your chest… he just continued jerking his cock, wondering if he could just come again. 

And then there was Seokmin, still seated the same way as when this had begun, just that there was a very obvious bulge in his pants, hurting from how hard he was. He tried to steady his breathing, but he knew the second you started fucking yourself it was over for him. He was right. 

Once you reached your high, the orgasm rushed over you with so much force you sobbed loudly, liquid shooting out of you as you rode out your orgasm on your fingers, whimpers and sobs continuing to fill the air. Seokmin moved, just slightly, and his cock came in contact with his pants, just a tiny bit of fraction. He moved and he came untouched, ropes of white filling his briefs as he felt his fingers dig into the armrest of his chair, his cock twitching over and over in his pants, his breath heavy. 

“Good job, baby, did so well for Daddy.” Cheol was quick to pull you up, wipe away the cum and tears from your cheeks to instead feed them to you, your lips sucking on his digits with exhaustion. 

“Oh fuck-,” Vernon’s eyes rolled back as another orgasm hit him, just a bit of cum shooting out his worn out cock and he fucked up into his fist three times before sinking into his chair, completely spent.

Cheol got you tissues, cleaning you up with care while Vernon had excused himself to the bathroom. Seokmin still hadn’t moved. 

“This was okay, right?” Cheol whispered to you when you stood up, your clothes all back in place. You nodded, patting his cheek.

“Yeah. I like myself some good old voyeurism, Cheol,” you smiled, your tired bones yelling at you to go home.

“Do you still want me to fuck them?” You asked then and Cheol laughed, caressing the back of your head.

“Now, it is them who will want to fuck you, baby.”

Seokmin felt their eyes on him then, felt the way red crept onto his cheeks. He was wearing black, so maybe if he got up it wouldn’t be visible that he literally came without touching himself. Slowly, he raised from his chair, and watched how Cheol and your gazes wandered right to where he hoped they wouldn’t. While you felt your exhausted pussy clench, Seungcheol smirked cockily.

“Now, won’t you look at that? Our little Seokminnie came untouched. How cute.” 

The words hit Seokmin deeper than they probably needed to. Clenching his jaw, Seokmin walked past you and Seungcheol, opening and slamming the door behind him to go to the bathroom and hopefully manage to clean himself up. How convenient he always had another suit hanging in the closet. 

-

It had been five days. Five days that Seokmin had to live with his boss giving him that look. It’s like Seungcheol knew exactly how to get Seokmin to doubt himself. And perhaps that was true considering they had known each other since college. Seungcheol the big business major who then went abroad and Seokmin who was doing well and still somehow ended up being Seungcheol’s assistant. It wasn’t a bad job, more so the opposite. Or at least it had been for the longest time. Now, Seokmin wasn’t so sure. Was this still a good job he liked going to when all he could think about was you and how you looked spread open on that couch he had sat on countless of times before? All of that combined with Seungcheol’s knowing grin and the unspoken words that somehow still echoed in Seokmin’s mind whenever his superior walked by. 

Every night since then Seokmin had laid in his bed with his cock fucking his fist, thinking about you. It was dirty and wrong and bad and yet he still did it. Did it every time his back hit his mattress. The images of you were burned into his brain and there was nothing he could do but hope it would be over sooner rather than later.

Work was fine, apart from that. He had a whole lot to do and was able to distract himself by going to meetings, driving across town to check up on the factory, by going to lunch with partners and finally by finishing reports that were actually Seungcheol’s job. Normally this was alright with him, Seokmin didn’t mind doing Seungcheol’s work, knowing exactly how busy he was. But today, five days after he had seen you split open by him, Seok felt very differently. 

“I have this phone meeting now, don’t I?” Cheol came to a halt in front of Seokmin’s desk, holding a Starbucks coffee in his hand. Seokmin nodded.

“Yup.” He didn’t look up at his boss, instead continued to eye whatever was on his screen. Cheol snorted.

“You really gonna be like this, Seok? Common, it happened to all of us before. Coming in our pants, I mean,” the condescending smirk was back on his lips, “you know, when we’re teens.” While Seungcheol laughed at his own idiotic joke, Seokmin stayed quiet, ignoring him. Eventually the older man left to walk into his office and Seokmin was left alone again. 

Looking at the bottom right of his screen he saw that Seungcheol entered said phone meeting and sighed in relief, leaning back in his chair. Seungcheol was going to be occupied for the next 45 minutes and that was really all he needed. Just a few minutes without fearing his boss to walk about and make him feel small. God, how badly he wanted to get back at him. But he hadn’t dared to call you, too embarrassed about what had happened. His thoughts wandered back to you, to the way you had held steady eye contact while Cheol had fucked you. He wondered why. Why you had done that, why you had chosen to look at him. Taking a deep breath, the assistant shook his head, about to go back to work, when he heard the wooden door opening, his head quickly moving to the side. There wasn’t anyone on the agenda for this time, not even for the spot in an hour so who-

You walked in just then, a white babydoll dress on your body, and Seokmin stood up, unsure what to make of your sudden appearance. Your pink painted lips turned into a smile.

“Hi.” Seokmin swallowed.

“Hello, Miss.”

You two stayed silent for a bit, before Seokmin cleared his throat and sat back down.

“How may I help you? I fear Mr. Choi is in a meeting right now.”

“I actually came to see you.”

Seokmin froze in his spot, feeling his hands cramp and his brain come up with the craziest scenarios. 

“Why?” He only managed to reply, still not looking at you. 

“Well, I wanted to ask you for coffee. I know Cheol is in a meeting. He told me earlier. And I thought we could… talk.” 

Talk. Seokmin swallowed down the apple-sized lump in his throat. Talk. Did you really think he could talk to you? After what he had seen? After what you had done to him? He tried to calm himself by taking another breath.

“You want to talk? About what?” He was proud of himself for having his voice appear collected when he was anything but. 

You shifted on your feet, your little purse hanging from both of your hands in front of your body.

“Uh, I don’t know. Just talk. I feel like maybe we got off on the wrong foot and-,” Seokmin stood up again, his chair making a rather unpleasant noise as it slid over the floor. You flinched, eyes widening.

“Got off on the wrong foot?” Seokmin walked around his table and stopped when he reached you. Now, he towered over you, making you feel small. 

“Y/N, I needn’t remind you that we were never supposed to get off on any foot. Because of your lifestyle it just so happened my boss thought we should meet.”

You frowned. Your lifestyle? 

“Excuse me?” Crossing your arms, you stared at Seokmin who stared right back. He tried to ignore the strong urge to look at your cleavage, to remember how they looked all naked and squeezed by your hand. 

“I don’t want to grab coffee with you. Nor do I want to talk to you. About anything.”

“Really? Is that why you came untouched watching me pleasure myself?” 

Your back slammed against the wall, the air leaving your lungs as Seokmin had you pinned against the concrete behind you. 

“Say that again.” His voice was low and his arm on you made your knees weak. 

Perhaps, if you were honest, you had kind of hoped this would happen. It was stupid, really, stupid and making everything even more complicated, but you had been thinking about him a lot. Even when you had let Mingyu into your bed again two days ago, Seokmin had been right there, Seokmin and the way he had cum without you even doing anything directly to him. Seokmin and his thighs. Seokmin and how he would taste on your tongue. It was haunting you and you just really needed to get him out of your system. You had thought that maybe you could get him to drive you home, asking him to come upstairs. Apparently, though, you didn’t even have to think that far. 

“Did you enjoy it? Watching Seungcheol fuck me? Watching me finger myself?”

Seokmin groaned, his hand moving to your throat, making you moan and, fuck, his ears began ringing. Without giving it any more thought, he pressed his lips onto yours, almost ready to have you reject him, but instead he felt your hands grab onto his collar, your purse falling onto the floor. Immediately, he deepened the kiss, his tongue gliding over your lips and you gladly let him enter. Your lips moved together in perfect sync, his tongue guiding yours and making butterflies erupt in your stomach. He then pushed one of his delicious thighs between your legs, having you gasp into his mouth when you felt him flex against your core. It felt like an instinct, the way you began rutting your cunt against his leg, his low moan filling the heavy air. 

“You like getting off on my thigh, baby?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded rapidly, a whimper coming out of your mouth when he pressed himself closer against you, his thigh now moving with your hips. His lips attached to your neck, kissing and sucking on your skin and you let your hands wander off to the back of his neck, nails digging into his skin, leaving small crescent moons right there. 

The stimulation from his thigh was immense, almost too much, considering how much you had fantasized about them. Your head banged against the wall behind you, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to minimize your sounds. Seokmin continued kissing your neck, hand now moving to squeeze your tit over your dress, noticing right away you went braless. 

“Look so fucking pretty in that dress, shit.” He kissed you on the mouth again, grabbing your face with the hand that had previously been around your throat. You moaned into his mouth, feeling his thumb press down on your stiff nipple. For a while you just made out like that, just kissing as if your life depended on it and somehow both of you felt like that was the case. Then, when both of you heard Seungcheol’s laugh through the wooden door, Seokmin parted from you, his eyes dark, his lips swollen. Without hesitating, he picked you up from the floor and moved to his desk, his lips back on yours, biting down on your bottom lip and making you cry out. Placing you on his desk, he continued to let his hands roam over your thighs, right hand finally touching your needy core. 

“All for me?” He mumbled against your ear and you nodded again, hands on his cheeks, guiding him back to your lips. You felt like you could get drunk on his kisses. Seokmin leaned in harder, while his fingers slipped underneath your panties, touching your soaked folds and moving down to press down on your sensitive clit. You moaned again, your eyelids fluttering as you felt him circle your clit, your hips almost automatically starting to move. Seokmin smirked against your lips before he continued to kiss you, his tongue finding yours right away, nothing seeming more important than kissing you. Only when he felt your hips shake, he decided to pull your panties off your legs, your ass lifting off from the desk for a second, your panties soon on the floor. Seokmin licked his lips before he finally sunk a finger into you, your face showing nothing but pleasure. He grinned confidently.

“Is this what you actually came for, baby?” He asked then and you nodded, sucking his finger right up your needy pussy. Seokmin groans quietly.

“Yeah? Naughty girl, aren’t you?” His lips found your jaw, moving down to your neck again and you quickly opened the zipper off your dress, having it fall off your shoulders in no time. Seokmin sucked in a breath, eyes glued to your tits.

“Touch me, Seokmin.” Your breathy voice made his cock twitch and he moved quickly, hand now squeezing your tit while the other added another finger, pumping in and out of you at quick speed now. Your eyes rolled back and Seokmin knew you were trying to stay quiet. He chuckled.

“Let it out, baby. Let him know.” And while in theory that sounded extremely hot, you weren’t sure how Cheol would take this - you fucking his assistant right outside his door. Still, you let out a louder moan when his fingers hit your sweet spot, the squishy part of you making Seokmin bite into your shoulder. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He pulled his fingers out, sucking them clean, while your hands moved to open his pants, belt first, then zipper and button. You couldn’t wait to get your hands on his cock, to have him in your hand and to finally have him pound into you. Finally, when his pants landed on the floor and you saw the prominent outline of his cock behind his gray briefs, the moan escaping you now could have surely been heard by the man behind the wooden door. Seokmin moved quickly, one hand moving to your neck, lips chasing yours as his other hand grabbed his shaft, your legs wrapping around him as he finally sunk into you one inch at a time. 

“O-Oh, Seokmin!” You cried out and he cried back, forehead resting against yours. Only when he bottomed out, all of him safely pushed inside, did he move his head, his lips now right by your ear.

“I’ll fuck you better than he ever could, baby. Make you cum harder than he ever will.” His words make you clench around him, your head dropping back as he began fucking you, the desk making noises that neither of you believed could stay unnoticed. His hands gripped your hips as he continued to fuck into you, your mouth hanging wide open, hands holding onto the edges of the table, his dick so good there were stars around your head. 

“God, look at you. Gonna fuck you stupid, baby.”

He picked up his pace, moving forward and raising one arm to move some of his documents to the side, having you lay down flat on the desk, your head hanging over the edge now. You looked absolute angelic and perfect, he couldn’t help but twitch. Your cunt kept on clenching around him, almost as if she never wanted to let him go again and, fuck, if anything Seokmin felt just the same. His hands dug deeper into your skin, his grunts having you arch your back and when he pressed two of his fingers against your clit, circling it like he had done before, you couldn’t help the cry that escaped you, your legs spasming around him as you felt your orgasm rush over you. Seokmin felt you throb around him, felt the waves of pleasure that erupted you and he moved quicker now, eyes focused on the way your tits bounced with every one of his thrusts. He knew he was close, fucking you through your orgasm and continuing to rub your clit, your pussy spent but still asking for more.

“S-Seokmin, do-don’t stop!” You almost screamed, your voice full of need and Seokmin’s head felt like it was about to explode.

“Yeah, take it like the good whore you are, fuck!” He leaned forward now, hand now behind your head to steady it as he kisses you hungrily, his hips still rutting against yours, getting that second orgasm out of you just as he feels his own approach.

“Gonna cum, baby.” He mumbled with your tongue on his lips, your cry finally getting him over the edge, hot white spurs of his pleasure painting your walls as he fucked you and now him as well through your orgasms, the desk hitting the floor repeatedly at this point, the sound obnoxious and so obvious. 

Obvious and obnoxious to the person behind the wooden door who had recognized your first moan and hadn’t been able to concentrate on the meeting ever since. How fucking dare you, he thought, fucking Seokmin right outside his door. Seungcheol had wanted to go out there and drag you in here, finish the job he knew he was the best at. He didn’t though. He knew how you felt about your challenge and as much as he hated it - he wanted to respect you. So, now there he sat. His cock hard hearing your noises, knowing exactly what you looked like when you made them, with three old dudes on the phone talking about whatever. He had muted himself at some point when the desk outside began rutting against the floor too loudly. He made a mental note to get these nailed to the floor. 

Seungcheol also recognized your cry as you came, his cock twitching uncomfortably. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat and pulling a hand through his hair. Thankfully, about fifteen minutes later, the meeting was cut short because one of the partners had an emergency and so Seungcheol said his goodbyes and left the call, immediately jumping up from his chair to hurry over to the door, opening it swiftly. 

There you were, seated on the edge of the desk Seungcheol knew Seokmin had just fucked you on. You turned around to look at him, jumping from the desk with an innocent smile on your face. Seokmin had stood in front of you. He had kissed you. Seungcheol had caught you kissing Seokmin. His hand was about to cramp, that’s how hard he balled it. 

“Y/N.” Cheol said sternly and your eyebrows shot up. 

“Seungcheol I-,”

“I am taking you home. Seokmin, I need you to cancel all my meetings for the day.”

He didn’t give either of you a chance, instead he grabbed you by the wrist and basically dragged you out and to the elevators. The atmosphere was cold and you knew that it was most probably because of what he had heard. You bit your lip, glad you had thought about grabbing your purse after you and Seokmin had parted and he had gotten you some towels from the bathroom. 

The kiss after… it hadn’t really been planned. But once he had helped you clean up, his cum dripping down your legs and all… his face had been so close and then, suddenly, you were making out again. Not with any intention, you both were worn out, but just because you could.

“Cheolie…” You pouted up at him, but Cheol ignored you, instead taking his car key out of his pocket and continuing to drag you along when you reached the garage. 

He placed you on the passenger seat and then moved to the driver’s seat. The drive was silent. Cheol didn’t say a word and you felt like you should probably give him the space he needed right now. 

When he finally parked at your apartment complex, he also finally looked at you.

“You kissed him.” He said. You were confused.

“That’s normally what happens during sex, yes.”

“No. After. When I came out. You kissed him.” 

You blinked at him a few times. Then, you grinned.

“Choi Seungcheol, don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I am. Extremely. I told you I want you to finish your challenge, I even picked the guys for you, Y/N.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is you kissed him after. Like you kiss me.”

Your heart clenched inside your chest. Quickly, you undid your seatbelt and instead leaned forward, placing your hand on his cheek.

“Cheolie…” You pouted again, but he averted his gaze, his cheeks slightly red. You let your teeth sink into your lip.

“Daddy…” The whisper made Cheol look up. He was still semi-hard. 

That’s how you found yourself with his cock down your throat and him fucking up into your tight heat. As it seemed neither of you could have an adult conversation without a certain situation being in the way.

“God yeah, no one takes my cock like you, fuck.” His head was leaned back against the headrest, his mouth hanging wide open as he used your throat to get off, to forget. 

“You want only my cock, I know you do, want only me to fill you up, want only my cum to breed you, my little whore.”

He mostly spoke to himself, almost like a pep-talk and you gladly let him, your tongue swirling around him as you hollowed out your cheeks. 

A knock on the window made him still inside your mouth. 

“Oppa?!” The voice was muffled through the glass. 

Jiwoo’s eyes were as wide as could get, but somehow grew even wider when she made eye-contact with her best friend who was currently getting throat fucked by Jiwoo’s older brother.