&LINKED

18+ multifandom writer network apply now to join us!

[andlinked]

＆ Lｉｎｋｅｄ.net

linking fandom together, welcome to &Linked, a network for all 18+ K-pop writers! you may also write for non-K-pop fandoms

. . . how to apply

⛓ reblog our official post ⛓ read our rules & guidelines ⛓ fill out the membership application form

. . . more infos

⛓ meet our staff / members ⛓ meet our affiliated networks ⛓ check out our collab masterlists [upcoming] ⛓ browse all fic tags [upcoming]

© &LINKED — since 14.02.2026

[thestraybunny]

It's Always You *Y.JH*

Pairing: Non-Idol Jeonghan x F. Reader WC: 14.5+K Rating: E 18+ MDNI Genre: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, smut, fluff Summary: Growing up, you and Jeonghan were inseparable, best friends, partners in crime, each other’s rocks when needed. It was always you and him against the world. Then you grew up. You moved away for college while he stayed behind. Lives took you in different directions, further away from your hometown, from the world you knew, from Jeonghan. But you both made a promise, the year you turned 31, you two would meet again no matter where life took you. To reconnect, to catch up, to remember your friendship. It was meant to be a rebirth of your friendship, but really it was the beginning of something more. And remind you that he's home

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Reuniting, mentions of teenage rebellion (smoking, drinking, other things teens shouldn’t be doing), rough housing, mention of family loss, yearning, Jeonghan is down bad, Member Appearances, drinking, smoking (weed and cigarettes), tension, flirting, angst, fluff, smut; Nickname: bug (hers) Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (m. receiving)

A/N: Here is my second submission for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef. Thank you again to @mylovesstuffs (for letting me use your name in this too!) and @nothoughtsjustfic for hosting this collab. This was alot of fun to write and be part of. I once more am happy to be part of it. A/N2: Thank you for @gam3bo17 and @aeristudios for helping me out with this fic, and thank you Aeris for beta reading. You are the best! <3

I hope you all enjoy! My Jihoon submission will be later this week.

Seventeen Masterlist

*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

Please be sure to check out all the other wonderful fics from this collab and show everyone love! We all worked hard on this!

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Mr. Min Part Six: Love and Lambs -M.YG

🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader. 🎶What: Some humour. Some fluffy parts. Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Child Taehyung. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu. 18+ 🎶Word count: 6.4k 🎶Warnings: Disabled characters— both mental and physical in various ways. Taehyung has a few emotional moments. Other children portrayed by idols. Namjoon is Jimin’s dad, and even I didn’t know that was going to happen until it did 🤡. Yoongi isn’t in this chapter, so he’s not mentioned in the “what” section, but it’s still a Yoongi story! The 18+ warning is because the series overall is 18+, so I’m applying it to every chapter regardless of content. 🎶Summary:

Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

My general masterlist

🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.

A/N - Honestly, this story seems to be turning into just reader loving tiny Taehyung, and I don’t blame her, he’s so precious 🥺 Forget Yoongi and the romance aspect, let’s just focus on Tae 😌 (That is a joke, I’m not changing the plot, don’t worry)

On the very first day of October, Taehyung comes home even more excited than usual, and you soon understand why. Well, once you’ve gotten him to calm down enough that you can make sense of his rushed words and also stop his arm from waving something around in your face in an excited attempt to show it to you.

“I go, mama?” he asks when you’ve accepted what he’s been waving around and realise it’s two small envelopes, one plain white with Taehyung’s name written on the front in neat— though still child-like— handwriting, and the other you think was once white, but it’s been entirely scribbled over by a whole selection of coloured pencil as far as you can see while it’s behind the other.

“Give me a minute to see what they are first,” you muse with a chuckle as you open the top envelope— the white one— and pull out the little card within. “Oh, a party invitation,” you realise, smiling at the thought of Taehyung being invited to his first birthday party at this school. Or, at least, the first birthday party he’s aware beforehand that he’s been invited to. Though spotting that the date on the invitation is only two days away, and noticing that it’s from Jeonghan, your smile lowers a little in worry that the little boy has purposely left it so late to give Taehyung his invite. “Baby, this is on Friday after school,” you point out, looking up at Taehyung.

“Hannie gave ‘em us all lunch today,” he says, unintentionally soothing your worry that Jeonghan had singled out your little boy again, but it seems as if that’s not the case at all, and you relax a little. “I can go?”

“Mm,” you hum thoughtfully as you look at the invitation again. “It’s for pizza and movies at Jeonghan’s house, you’d like to do that?”

“Yes!” Taehyung cheers enthusiastically, so you glance around in search of Mingyu and find him leaning in the living room doorway, clearly waiting knowing that Taehyung had something to show you, that the pair of— as Taehyung’s parents— would need to discuss. Not that you discuss it now, Mingyu just nods with a little smile on his face, silently giving his consent to your son attending the party.

“Okay, baby, you can go,” you confirm, making Taehyung let out an excited noise before bouncing happily around for a moment. You take the chance to grab your phone from the side table to send a text to the number listed on the invitation to confirm Taehyung’s presence and specify any requirements— as requested on the little card.

Once you’re done sending the text and saving the number as “Jeonghan’s mother”, you turn your attention to the rainbow scrawled envelope, noticing that this time, Taehyung’s name was obviously written by an adult, no five-year-old has handwriting that neat. Your son bounces back over when he notices that you’re pulling the folded paper out. This one is printed in a farmyard theme and is also covered in shiny animal stickers on the back, making you smile a little.

“Who’s Jimin?” you wonder once you’re read the invitation fully and realise that you don’t recall Taehyung mentioning anyone called Jimin before, and you’ve also never seen the name printed on the cubbies in the few times you’ve been in their classroom. Perhaps it’s a new student.

“He’s with the little kids but we are same age! He’s all smiley like Soo, but he is like a little kid like Cheolie’s little brother, he’s three,” he explains simply, and you hum in understanding. It makes sense that you’ve not heard of Jimin before, not if he has a much younger mental age than his same-aged peers, so he’s with the younger children who are at the same mental age as him.

You assume he and your son have only recently met, likely on the playground as you don’t think the students mix during any other point in the day. “And you’ve played with him at breaktime?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung nods. “He call me Tete, and we play aliens, and pirates, and run lots! Cheolie can’t run lots, so Hannie say we can’t play run games, so I play with Chim!” he explains, not seeming at all bothered that he can’t run around with his best friends, and instead happy to have another friend to play with. “Jimin says Chim, not Jimin. I think he can’t not say Jimin, but Chim is cute!”

“It is,” you agree, smiling at your son and his clear adoration for Jimin, for his lack of issue about the same-aged boy’s younger mentality and skills. You’re glad Taehyung doesn’t linger on what others struggle with, just accepts them and focuses on their strengths, and how they can be happy together. “Jimin’s party is at a farm, is that something you’d like to do?”

Taehyung’s smile lowers and he slumps as nerves appear on his adorable little face. “Just me?”

“No, baby, I’ll go with you,” you assure, glad that the invitation requests that a parent or adult guardian attends as well— free of charge— to watch over their own child while the children play together. You think it’s pretty safe to assume that Jimin himself needs a fair amount of attention and care, and the chances are that he’s invited other children from their school too, who all have their own needs. It would be an awful lot for Jimin’s guardians to watch over multiple young children with varying needs alongside trying to keep the party going smoothly, while somewhere that could easily be overstimulating with all the scents and sounds.

“And daddy?” Taehyung asks, looking over to where you assume Mingyu must still be, based on the fact Taehyung stares in that direction questioningly.

“When is it?” Mingyu wonders as he approaches to lean over the back of the sofa and peer at the paper in your hands, which you lift higher so that he can easier read the information. “Ah, no, sorry, baby, I’m in New York then,” he apologises, sounding genuinely upset to have to let down his son for the sake of work.

“Oh, can we farm some time? You, me, and mama?”

“Of course,” Mingyu easily agrees, and you hum, nodding your own agreement when Taehyung looks at you, making the boy light back up.

“For my birthday?”

“I think it’ll be too cold on your birthday for the farm to be open for visitors,” Mingyu responds, and you both watch as Taehyung deflates all over again with a disappointed little “oh.”

“I thought you want to go see the snowy mountains for your birthday?” you remind him of the idea he had in Japan once he saw photos of the snow-tipped mountains and immediately became enamoured.

Taehyung nods enthusiastically. “With Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo, and Ji?” he requests.

“Jihoon?” you question, a little surprised that he wants his newest friend present for the trip when you can’t imagine they’ll see each other much between now and December when Taehyung’s birthday is. Honestly, with Jihoon not going out onto the playground during breaktime and Yoongi’s refusal to swap numbers with you so the boys can hang out, you think the only time the two will get to see each other will be thanks to Jin. Though as it’s been all these years already and you’ve only just met the father-son due through your mutual friend, you don’t imagine Jin will invite your two families to any gatherings at the same time unless it’s something big and important again.

“Yeah! I want fun see Ji times like huhwhywee.”

“Hawaii.”

“Yeah!”

“I don’t think seeing Jihoon outside of school is possible, baby,” you inform gently, knowing it will upset your son to hear.

“Why not?” He frowns sadly, making your heart break a little. If Yoongi wasn’t so good to Taehyung at school and a genuinely wonderful teacher and support system for the boy, you’d mentally curse him out right now for being the reason your precious boy looks so defeated.

“Because his daddy is your teacher, so it makes things difficult. He can’t really do things like that,” you answer, hoping that Taehyung will understand and not ask for further clarification; you really don’t know how you’d explain it to Taehyung when you honestly don’t understand Yoongi’s aversion yourself.

“Oh… Then not Ji and just Chim, and Cheol, and Hannie, and Soo?” he requests.

“As lovely as that would be, it’s not possible to take your friends to Japan for the Christmas break, baby. Their parent’s wouldn’t agree, and even if they did, daddy and I can’t look after you all on our own; you all needs lots of special care and deserve more attention than the two of us can give you in another country like that. We’d have to invite their parents and siblings, and that would cost a lot of money, baby.”

“We not have a lot of money?” he asks curiously. “You and daddy are be famous.”

“Ah, I’m not really, not now,” you correct, knowing that these days, although your name is still fairly known in your world, you don’t really do the jobs anymore to keep that recognition going. Though, you still have enough respect in the fashion circuit to earn more than a pretty penny when you do accept a job that strikes your fancy. “Daddy is the famous one,” you point out.

Mingyu can’t deny it, his photos are pretty much part of the furniture in the majority of magazines in the country, and many internationally too. It’s more surprising to go to a shopping centre and not see a blown-up photo of your ex-husband showing off some product or another; it’s another reason you’re so glad you’re still friends. It’d drive you insane to not be able to go buy a new pair of underwear without your ex-husband’s giant, handsome face leering at you from a display in the men’s section.

“But have little money?” Taehyung asks confused.

“We have enough money,” Mingyu answers. “But to spend all that would be like showing off how much we have, and your mama and I never want to do that. Most people don’t have as much money, and so we don’t want to rub it in their faces, okay? So don’t tell anyone that we have lots of money please, Tae.”

“It is secret?”

“They can probably guess we have money because of my job, and your mama insists on driving a big, fancy car–” he cuts off with a laugh when you hit his arm. “Ow! It’s true!”

“I drive a big, fancy car to fit your giant ass in it!” you point out.

“I fit in smaller cars,” he defends.

“And complain that your legs are squished. And this car will last me for years, long enough that Tae will be grown at least, and I’m betting he’s going to be tall like you, so he’ll need space for his long legs too!”

“I be very tall!” Taehyung decides, lifting up onto his tiptoes with one hand held as high as he can get it. “Like this!”

“Wow, you’re going to be super tall,” Mingyu enthuses.

“Like you, daddy!”

“And super handsome too, huh?!” Mingyu teases then darts around the sofa to pick up Taehyung and playfully nuzzle and bite the boy while Taehyung giggles and wiggles away, more than happy to be playfully eaten— a very common occurrence in your house, by both you and Mingyu, Taehyung is just too cute to resist.

While the pair play, you copy the number for Jimin’s dad from his invitation into your phone and send a text confirming Taehyung’s presence at the farm for the party. The two are still playing when you’re done, so you decide to get up and go to the kitchen to make a start on dinner even though it’s Mingyu’s turn to cook tonight; but you know he’s unlikely to remove his focus from your son for a while yet and you’re already getting hungry so would rather eat sooner than later.

It’s almost twenty minutes later that Mingyu darts into the kitchen and dramatically tells you off for taking his job from him. Before you can argue, he picks you up and carries you into the living room to deposit you on the sofa beside Taehyung, then strolls back to the kitchen to pick up where you left off.

As soon as you’re settled on the cushions, Taehyung wiggles into your side to curl up with you to watch his current favourite anime.

“Mama, if we no go see snowy mountains, can I have birthday party?” he requests after a few minutes, tilting his head back against your arm to peer up at you cutely.

“You want a party enough to cancel the trip? You were really looking forward to that,” you comment, brushing his hair out of his eyes. You mentally make a plan to convince Mingyu to get a haircut so that Taehyung will also get his cut and stop the strands from hanging in his eyes, making him strain to see and giving him headaches.

Although the two don’t have matching haircuts and never have, as Taehyung likes his hair longer and Mingyu has his in a range of lengths and styles, Taehyung always refuses to let the hairdresser near him until Mingyu has gone first. Even though you’ve taken to Taehyung to the same shop to see the same hairdresser his whole life— the same man Mingyu has been seeing the whole time you’ve known him—, Taehyung always looks at the man as if he doesn’t know him and refuses to come out of hiding behind you until Mingyu has taken his turn in the chair first. Thankfully, Minghao is nothing but understanding and so unbelievably patient, even when he has to be extra careful due to Taehyung’s struggle with sitting still, so the boy still shuffles regularly in his seat. Mingyu does too, but he’s been friends with Minghao for so long that the man flicks his ear in scold; though only when Taehyung isn’t looking, not wanting to scare the boy into thinking he’ll be flicked if he gets the wriggles.

“I want party with my friends,” he answers.

“Mm, well, how about once we’re back from the trip, we’ll have your friends over here for a late birthday party?” you suggest, and all you need is to see the way Taehyung’s whole being lights up to know that he’s more than happy to agree.

Admittedly, you’re worried when Friday after school comes around because you still have that fear in your mind that Jeonghan will leave Taehyung out despite there having not been another issue since the first.

You’ve met Jeonghan before a few times and he’s always seemed like such a sweet little boy, even if he always looks halfway to asleep and like he probably has no idea what’s going on due to his constant fatigue— though he’s got a clever glint to his eyes, so you’re pretty sure he’s more alert mentally than his body physically is. Looking at the boy, you wouldn’t be able to guess he has a jealous streak where his lifelong best friend is concerned, you wouldn’t be able to guess he’s capable of being mean. But then again, you thought the same about most of the children at Taehyung’s old school, and they turned on him pretty easily.

Although you don’t want to worry so much about your son’s heart around his best friends, you can’t help it. Not after how hurt Taehyung was those weeks back, and how sensitive you know he can be, especially with those he loves so much. He puts his whole heart into everything that he leaves himself unprotected, so you can’t help but be worried and internally cautious in his place. You’ll never hold him back, but you will always keep an extra close eye on him when you can’t be certain he’ll come out unscathed.

To your genuine joy and relief though, you don’t receive a call to pick up Taehyung before time stated on the invitation for the end of the party, and he comes bouncing over to you with a bright grin, his school bag bouncing on his back, a party bag in one hand, and a balloon in the other.

You’re standing in the driveway talking with Seungcheol’s and Jisoo’s parents as you all arrived a good ten minutes before the pickup time, so decided to let the boys have those final minutes together. Though someone must’ve spotted you all outside as now the boys are all rushing out to excitedly blabber away about the party and their gift bags.

“Wow!” you hear Jisoo’s mother enthuse where she’s squatting down in front of her constantly smiling son. You’ve not had much chance to meet the woman before, especially not to talk to her for more than a quick greeting at pick ups and drop offs, but now that you’ve had the chance, you can say she is probably the sweetest person you’ve ever met. Looking at her with her son, you can so easily see the clear resemblance in the purity of their smiles.

“Look, a little Ponyo!” Seungcheol exclaims to his parents and little brother, taking a small dog plushie from his giftbag to show.

“Ponyo!” Hansol cheers and bounces towards his brother, grinning when Seungcheol lets him hold the toy that looks like their new puppy, before the toddler attaches to his big brother with a bright, gummy smile.

“Mama, can we buy many lots balloons?” Taehyung asks you after enthusiastically showing you his red balloon printed with golden stars, which he seems more interested in than his bulging party bag.

“You want more balloons?” you muse and then laugh softly when he nods with nothing but a serious expression on his face. “They make loud noises when they pop, remember?”

“Oh,” he murmurs, frowning as he recalls his last memories of a balloon popping and how much it scared him, prompting him to declare he hated balloons after. In fact, that last incident was almost a year ago and he hasn’t been near a single balloon since; at first, it was on purpose because he avoided them, but then he just didn’t have the chance to be near them, and you can assume he forgot about his newly unlocked fear. “We get quiet balloons?”

“I don’t think they exist.”

“Oh.” He deflates into a deeper frown and looks at his balloon as if it’s betrayed him. “This one loud pop too?”

“Not if you’re careful with it.”

Taehyung perks up again and nods determinedly. “I will be extra careful!”

“Okay, just don’t let your dad near it, you know how clumsy he is.”

“Clumsy, clumsy daddy,” he agrees, nodding, making you laugh quietly.

“Alright, let’s get going, grandma and grandpa are waiting at home for their favourite boy!” you enthuse and Taehyung’s whole being lights up, smiling big and bright and he bounces.

“Grandma and grandpa!” he cheers then turns to his friends still standing nearby to talk to their parents, with Jeonghan and his own also amongst the group now talking. “I–I can see my grandma and grandpa now!” he announces excitedly. Adorably, Taehyung’s friends all cheer as if they’re just as excited as him about the news. “Bye! See you Monday! Thank you for fun party Hannie, and Hannie’s mama and daddy!”

“You’re very welcome, Taehyung,” Jeonghan’s mother replies, smiling at him in the way most adults do honestly, in a way that means they think he’s utterly sweet and a joy to have around. It always makes you privately puff with pride. “It was lovely to have you here, thank you for coming.”

“Thank you for coming to my party, Tae,” Jeonghan agrees with a little smile then moves forward to hug Taehyung. Taehyung, of course, hugs back, then breaks into giggles when Seungcheol and Jisoo bounce over to join the hug. Then Hansol decides to join too, and wiggles himself right into the centre, making you all laugh.

“They’re so cute I might get cavities,” Jeonghan’s dad jokes, then looks at the baby monitor in his hand when a soft noise comes through. “I got the little princess,” he announces to his wife, then waves in farewell to you all before jogging into the house to care for the just-woken baby.

Somehow, you manage to get Taehyung in the car and strapped in despite the fact he refuses to let go of his balloon, scared it’ll float off up into space and an alien will get scared by it— you have no idea where he got that idea, but you decide to just awkwardly and very cautiously work around the balloon until he’s strapped in securely.

After a final farewell to the group still standing in the drive chatting, and a final thanks to the Yoon family, you get in your car and head home, listening to Taehyung retelling every second of the party happily from the backseat. Words you know you’ll have to hear at least twice more tonight as he repeats them to Mingyu’s parents, then the man himself once he’s home, but you really don’t mind.

On the day of Jimin’s birthday party, Taehyung is clearly very nervous about it. He’s never been to a farm before, so he doesn’t know what exactly to expect, even though he’s watched nothing but farm related programs and videos for the past two days to try and prepare himself and also asks you endless questions about farms and farmyard animals. You’re not ashamed to admit that you’ve had to defer to the internet many times, but you’ve learned a lot too. You’ve also ordered a couple of books that look interesting even to you. You have no idea if Taehyung will stop caring about how a farm works after today, but you think the books will be good to have anyway to give the boy a little more knowledge about something different than his current books do.

Even with a head full of fresh knowledge, and a printout of the farm’s map that you found on their website, Taehyung is anxious enough that he almost has a meltdown when every piece of clothing he owns are suddenly all wrong. Though when you literally offer him the t-shirt off your back— upon noticing how much he’s fiddling with the worn soft material and inhaling your scent off it to self soothe— Taehyung perks back up a little. Your t-shirt falls around his thighs and swallows him up, but he looks more at ease than he has all morning, so you don’t mind. It’ll be hidden under his coat, jumper, and dungarees anyway, so nobody will be able to tell that your five-year-old is literally wearing an adult’s t-shirt out all day.

Taehyung calms a lot after that, wrapped up cosy in your scent and the soft material, so getting ready goes smoothly, even if he keeps repeating the same questions about non-farm related things. You’re pretty sure he asks how old he was when you and Mingyu got your matching “T” tattoos, at least five times ever since first catching sight of it on your chest over your heart when you removed your t-shirt to give to him. Of course, it’s covered again now with another t-shirt, jumper, and coat as you head out the house to leave for the farm, but Taehyung still asks again.

“We got them on your first birthday,” you repeat, strapping him into his seat— after strapping the gift bag with Jimin’s present into the space at Taehyung’s side, at his concern he’ll drop it or it’ll fall to the floor.

“For me?” he asks.

“Of course, baby. You are the most important thing in the entire world to your daddy and I, so we got your initial tattooed over our hearts so you’re always close.”

“I get tattoo for both you when I am big,” he declares, making you smile.

“That’s sweet, baby. Maybe the three of us can get matching family tattoos,” you suggest, then giggle at the excited gasp Taehyung lets out.

“Yeah! Matchy match!” He starts to chatter away about the potential future family tattoo design. Even when you close his door and move to get into the front, he still talks away, and you just leave him to it with a little smile on your face as you drive.

It isn’t until you’ve parked at the farm and are crossing the lot to head to where you can see a group gathering that you really understand Taehyung’s concern for today.

“Mama,” Taehyung says, tugging on your hand so that you’ll stop and turn to look at where he’s standing and nervously staring off at the group— mostly smaller children, but you can spot a couple of older ones, though only one that looks to be around Taehyung’s age, and he’s wearing a birthday badge, so you safely assume that’s Jimin.

“What’s the matter, baby?” you ask, crouching down to be at his height, and hold both of his hands, even if one is already holding the handle of the gift bag.

“I am bigger,” he says, still staring at them. “What if they like not me because I am bigger? Or I hurt them playing?”

“You’re such a sweet boy, Tae, everyone loves you. And you’re always so careful. You played with Hansol at Seungcheol’s house, didn’t you? And Ponyo.”

Slowly, Taehyung turns his head to look at you as your words settle in his mind. You can already see the fear melting from his eyes as his tense expression softens out. “Yeah. I was super careful.”

“See? You know how to behave with smaller beings. You’re even so gentle with spiders when you move them for daddy.”

“Daddy is really scared of spiders,” he says, then giggles at the memories of all the times Mingyu has called for you or Taehyung, a literal child, to save him from a spider. Admittedly, you usually leave it to Taehyung to deal with as you’re not very keen on spiders yourself, but you at least don’t lose all ability to function like a human being like Mingyu does when faced with one.

“He is,” you confirm with your own little giggle, glad Taehyung is more like himself again. “Shall we go join the others? You can introduce me to Jimin,” you suggest.

“Okay, mama,” he agrees, so you get up and let go of his gift holding hand, before the two of you finish walking down the slight slope to get to the group. “Chim!”

“Tete!” the birthday badge wearing boy cheers, then darts over to almost tackle Taehyung in a hug. “I six!” he declares proudly to his friend, beaming a bright smile, eyes crinkling. Then he turns to you. “Hi! I Chim! I six!” he holds up one hand with all of his tiny fingers extended.

“Silly Chim,” Taehyung giggles and hands you the gift bag to help Jimin hold up his thumb on his other hand too. “This is six.”

“Oh.” Jimin stares at his hands then shows them to you while beaming again. “I six!”

“Wow, you’re getting so big, huh?” you enthuse, and he nods, grinning proudly and dropping his arms to his sides. “I’m Taehyung’s mama, thank you for letting us celebrate your birthday with you, Chim, it’s very kind of you.”

“You’re welcome!” he chirps, then gasps as Taehyung hands him the gift bag. “Present for Chim?”

“Yeah!” Taehyung replies, then giggles as Jimin plops on the gravel right then and there to start looking through the bag. Taehyung squats down next to him and happily watches his friend excitedly look at his gifts— which you had asked Jimin’s dad for advice about via text, just so that you didn’t get Jimin anything inappropriate for his abilities and interests, or something he already has.

“Hey, I’m Jimin’s dad, Namjoon,” the man that approaches you greets, offering his hand. “Well, stepdad technically, but I’ve been around since he was a baby, so we don’t generally specify that, but people can get weird about it if we don’t clarify upon first meeting,” he’s rambling a little, looking embarrassed by it too, but he can’t seem to stop himself.

“I get it, some people can be weird about the oddest stuff,” you muse, hoping your smile assures him that you don’t mind the awkward clarification or slight rambling. “It’s nice to meet you, officially, I mean,” you add your name in response, only now realising that while texting Namjoon, neither of you had actually told the other your first name.

“You too.” He smiles, dimples popping out. “We’re just waiting for one more person, then we can go in. But if he’s any longer, we’ll leave him behind,” he informs while looking down at his watch. He backtracks quickly upon noticing your alarmed expression when he lifts his head again and looks at you. “Oh! It’s not a child; it’s my best friend, he’s Jimin and Hyejin’s godfather. Hyejin’s my daughter, by the way, she’s nine,” he motions over to the oldest of the children, standing with who must be Jimin’s mother, the woman and little girl wearing matching coats. It’s only now that you realise that Jimin and Namjoon are also wearing matching coats and beanies. It’s precious.

“Ah, that makes sense, him being your friend and not a child, I mean,” you giggle amusedly, then look over when you hear a car pulling into the lot a little behind you.

“There he is, just on time. Usually, he’s late,” Namjoon muses.

“He must really want to see some cows,” you joke, and Namjoon laughs.

“He’s a big scaredy cat; he’ll likely refuse to go near the pens.”

“I’m here, I’m here!” the man that exits the now safely parked car exclaims as he rushes over, though upon spotting you, he lights up and calls your name. It takes you a second to recognise him bundled up in his layers, even if it’s not quite cold enough for that many.

“Oh, Hoseok,” you realise, and wave in greeting.

“What’re you doing here? Wait, Tae knows Chim?” Hoseok gasps, already ignoring both you and Namjoon to squat down with the two boys and hug them both at once, which the boys both happily and enthusiastically return with calls of “Hopie!”.

“Well, I guess introductions are not needed here,” Namjoon chuckles, looking bewilderedly between you and Hoseok questioningly.

“I’m a photographer, and Hoseok seems to like booking me for all his album shoots,” you muse.

“Oh, wait,” Namjoon gasps, eyes wide. “You did those? They’re incredible, I don’t blame him for booking you as j-hope’s exclusive photographer.”

“Ah, thank you.” You blush a little at the unexpected and very genuine praise; the man truly seems awed as he gawps at you.

“Honey!” The call makes Namjoon look over at his wife. “Time to go in.”

“Oh! Right!” Namjoon gives her a thumbs up then crouches down to help Jimin pack his gifts back into the bag before he stands up. “Come on, boys, let’s go meet some sheep!” he enthuses brightly, and the two boys cheer before marching after the tall man, their little hands happily clasped together and swinging wildly between them.

“So, Tae goes to the special school?” Hoseok wonders as the two of you follow behind the three a few steps, watching them with fond smiles on your faces for the cute boys. You hum in confirmation. “He’s five too, right?”

“Yeah.”

“What class is he in?” You give him a questioning look. “I know one of the teachers. Joon and I used to work with him, and he still produces my albums with me; doesn’t come out the woodwork for much else, honestly.” He chuckles.

“Would that happen to be Min Yoongi?”

“Yeah,” he confirms with a soft laugh. “He teaches Tae? I know he’s partly subbing a class around that age right now, but I wasn’t certain.”

You nod in confirmation with a soft hum to match. “He’s Tae’s favourite teacher, absolutely adores the man, and Jihoon.”

“Oh, you met Jihoonie too? That’s surprising.”

“Not at school, at a wedding, Jin’s. You know Jin, right?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah, I was in the middle of Europe on tour though, so I couldn’t make the wedding. He sent me a bunch of photos to rub it in that I missed it though,” he tuts, though he’s still smiling, not at all bothered by the older man’s childish actions. “Oh, wait!” He gasps, hands lifting to flap for a second in excitement before lowering. “Does that mean Tae was the ring bearer? Jin said a close friend’s son had the job, but not Jihoon because he would hate it. I don’t think he’s got any other friends with kids though.”

“Yeah, it was Tae.”

“You have to send me photos later; Jin didn’t send me any with Tae in, but I have to see him in his little suit. I bet he outshone the groom.”

“Of course he did,” you reply with a playful scoff that makes Hoseok laugh. The conversation ebbs off naturally there, and you both tune fully into the farm and the purpose of the afternoon.

As it turns out, Taehyung loves the farm. Of course, he’s not too fond of the smells really, but he is far too invested in the animals to really pay much attention to it.

Unfortunately, Taehyung loves the animals a bit too much, and when it’s time to leave, he doesn’t want to.

The last stop on the tour— which included a stop for a lovely picnic beside the play park the children had a blast in— is the petting barn, where all the youngest animals are kept for visitors to meet. And Taehyung has fallen completely in love with a lamb that seems more than happy to be wrapped in his arms where he sits on the dusty ground with the animal between his spread legs.

It takes a few minutes for you to convince Taehyung to let go of the lamb as tears roll down his cheeks. Even then, he only lets go when Jimin toddles over, looking like he wants to cry because his friend is, and hugs Taehyung tight.

Thankfully, Taehyung gets up and holds Jimin’s hand all the way back to the parking lot at the front, sadly peering at the gift shop as you pass. The store has been cordoned off due to a bad leak in the roof that is being fixed in off hours to not disturb visitors with the noise, making it impossible to go inside like Taehyung— and admittedly, you too— love to. His gaze is forlornly stuck to a sweet little lamb plushie on display, barely visible at the back of the store, but as Taehyung’s longing, tear wet gaze finds it, a fresh sob leaves his mouth, and your heart aches.

Many may call you utterly insane for it, may call you a push over of a parent spoiling your child, but you don’t care. So what if you spent three hours driving around in search of a lamb plushie for Taehyung, so what if it’s half the size of him. You’d buy him all the lamb plushies in the world if mends his broken heart even a little.

The entire three hours in the car, Taehyung had cried and asked to go back to the farm to “my baby”. You truly never expected your son to fall in love with a lamb of all animals and want to adopt it as his child, but a part of you isn’t entirely surprised and can’t blame him. The lamb was genuinely so sweet, so cute, friendly, and full of affection for your son in particular. Even before Taehyung had sat down, the lamb had trotted around after him as he did his best to give every animal in the petting pen attention and affection. It seemed the bond went both ways, and you did worry for a second that the lamb would also be distressed, but then you figured it probably does that with someone out of every group that visits the petting barn, and it won’t remember Taehyung by the time the next group arrived.

Even around the toy stores that you had carried him into to search the soft toy sections, Taehyung cried into your shoulder. You did find a few little lamb plushies in stores, but you knew before showing Taehyung that they wouldn’t be accurate representations of the current love of his life— eyes too beady, fur too scratchy, legs too short.

Though as soon as you saw the big, fluffy, and slightly weighted soft toy, you knew it was perfect. Taehyung had wailed when you put him down on his feet on the floor, but you had to in order to reach the toy off the shelf and present it to him. His tears didn’t immediately stop when he opened his eyes to look at the toy, but he did calm a lot, and by the time he was strapped back into the car with the lamb clutched in his arms and entirely covering him from your view, he was making content little sounds.

And now, he’s curled up on the sofa, half laid on his lamb with his leg wrapped around it as they both watch TV, and you know you’d drive three hours just for a soft toy without hesitation all over again when it clearly means this much to your son.

“Mama?” he calls, voice hoarse from all the crying, as you get up from the other end of the sofa to answer the door for your late-dinner pizza delivery.

“Yeah, baby?”

“I love you,” he says, tilting his head to make eye contact with you, and melting your heart into a gooey mess in your chest with the clear adoration in his gaze on you.

“I love you too, Tae, with everything in me,” you assure, and walk over to kiss his head before going to the door with your chest full of warm, gooey love.

Without a doubt, you’ll always do whatever you need to make your son happy, even if others would call you crazy for it. Nothing matters more than Taehyung’s happiness to you, and nothing will ever mean more. He’s your everything, even if he does make you an early grandmother to a lamb, apparently.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

If you wish to be tagged in future parts, please refer to the bottom of the Mr. Min masterlist.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

You Make Me Glow - X.MH

🌷Who: Xu Minghao (Seventeen) x female reader 🌷What: Fantasy. Fluff. Some humour. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Neighbours au. Witch Minghao. 🌷Word count: 7.6k 🌷Warnings: Reader is somewhat recently divorced at the start, but she’s more than okay with that! Mentions of past cheating (reader’s asshole ex). Mentions of pre-story death of previous tenant. Some profanity. Minghao is a bit of a dick at the start ngl. Reader is kind of a mess at times, and I think it’s highly relatable of her. A couple very innocent kisses. 🌷Summary:

After divorcing your cheating asshole of an ex-husband, you use the very generous money you gain from the ordeal to buy a house on the complete opposite side of the country to make a fresh start. The online photos of the house are beautiful, and the gardens even more so, though the reality is a little different by the time you arrive. Still, you love it and are determined to turn this house into a home. It’s just a matter of doing your best to ignore the man who seems to have serious issue with you moving into the house, and makes his feelings known with glares that are the furthest thing from neighbourly as a person can get. It’d be a whole lot easier to ignore him if he wasn’t so damn attractive.

I block any blank blog that interacts.

Masterlist

A/N- This was written as part of @dorereef’s spring event, The Reef In Bloom! This event has been such a joy to participate in, the other members have been so lovely and enthusiastic that I really hope to join up with them for another event soon 🥺💗

Almost two months ago, you moved to a sweet little town— barely bigger than a village really—, into a house that had been left empty and untouched for over a year. Although it was a little run down, you fell in love with the images of the homely-looking building on the estate agent’s website and bought it without even visiting.

Of course, your urge to get as far away from your ex-husband and everyone you once knew probably drove you to snatch up the house so quickly; you probably would’ve at least asked the agent in charge of the sale some questions about why the house was still unpurchased after a whole year when it truly is beautiful. But you were desperate to leave and start a new life, your own life, that you didn’t even try to ask.

It doesn’t take you long to realise that you really should’ve asked.

Finally, after over seven weeks of cleaning from top to bottom, redecorating every room, and buying and assembling furniture, your home feels complete. At least, on the inside because the garden is another matter entirely.

Part of what first drew you to the house wasn’t the building itself, but the beautiful garden that wraps around the entirety of it, full of lush, green grass, and so many flowers and plants that you couldn’t hope to even try to name them all. You had seen the carefully curated gardens in the photos and fell in love.

What you failed to consider though, was that the photos were taken over a year ago, when the house first went up for sale, and now it’s been neglected for at least that long.

The once tidy and obviously adored garden has turned into a veritable jungle that you have no idea what to do with, but you need to try if you want even a semblance of a chance of returning it to its former glory.

Which is all well said and done; you’re sure even a half decent home gardener would be able to tackle the tangle of leaves and stems, however, you are not a half decent home gardener. In fact, you’ve never handled a single flower that wasn’t already cut and tied up in paper, topped with a bow and a little card full of false promises and love declarations from your ex-husband.

Having been born and raised in the middle of the city, always living in blocks of pristine apartments, you never had the chance to own even a single little potted cactus. When you were younger, you were never particularly interested in plants anyway, so you really didn’t mind growing up without any in your home. Then, you got a job and didn’t even think about plants. Even the ones you walked past to work, you never considered them really, more that you were just used to them being dotted around, just part of the scenery.

Unfortunately, by the time you developed an interest in growing plants, you were married to a man that point blank refused to bring anything dirty into the spotless apartment. All you wanted was a single potted plant to keep you company during the day at home until he returned, unable to even socialise with the staff he hired to keep your shared home exactly as he liked it. You had been so lonely even as the staff bustled around day in day out; all you wanted was something alive to tend to and bond with, but you weren’t allowed, and you were left with a heart aching for something you believed you’d never have.

Yet now, you have more plants and garden than you know what to do with. Still, you’re determined to give it your best. After a few days of research and buying all the supplies you may potentially need, you step out of your front door ready to do your best to return the gardens to their former glory.

Only to immediately freeze upon noticing your neighbour walking past your house, his head already swivelled to glare in disdain at you, at your mess of a garden.

“G–good morning,” you greet, waving a little awkwardly.

As expected from the sour man, he only grunts in response— it’s such a vague sound, but you can feel the contempt rolling off of him towards you—, and then he sharply turns his head away and walks to his own home, all but slamming the door behind him.

From the very first day you moved in, as soon as you stepped your foot out of your car and onto your driveway for the first time, you just knew with everything in you that the man had scared off every potential buyer when they had visited the house for a viewing. He had been standing on his front doorstep, arms crossed and dark eyes staring you down. Which honestly, scared the shit out of you, it was such an evil look; but you had already bought the house, so you didn’t turn and run away despite the urge rearing up within you.

You had hoped that your neighbour would get used to your presence, would soften up, and at least stop glaring at you like he’s trying to curse your entire bloodline with a look, but he hasn’t. You even tried going old school and baked some cupcakes to take over to gift him while introducing yourself the next day. Yet he had sharply refused the gift, claiming to not eat sweets; only for you to spot him returning home the next day, chewing on a chocolate chip cookie the size of your hand.

The man hadn’t even introduced himself either, so even though it’s been almost two months, you have no idea what the name of your nearest neighbour is. You know the names of at least a dozen people who live in the town already from your shopping trips and walks— all of whom are lovely, to your joy—, yet not his.

Although you should be used to the man’s obvious hatred for you at this point, you’re not. Every time you catch him glaring in your direction, or when he only grunts in response to your greetings, it hurts. You’ve done nothing to warrant such hostility, and you don’t know how to fix it. The last thing you want is to spend the rest of your life living next door to man that despises your entire existence for reasons unknown, but you’ve put too much into making this old house a home that you refuse to leave.

You hope that with a little more time, he’ll at least lose a little of the fire in his sharp gaze when it’s directed towards you, but you’re not going to hold your breath, just the hope cupped close in your chest.

It takes a few days of you wandering around the garden to carefully inspect every inch and do further research on the plants already settled there before you actually start to work on the garden. You hadn’t wanted to go barging in, digging, and pulling only to kill any of the life buried in the soil; you wanted to do your best to find out which plants you need to carefully work around to keep alive, and the ones you need to pull up to stop them from hurting your other plants.

Even when you’re pretty sure that the plant you’re kneeling before is, in fact, a weed that you need to pull up to save the flowers it is winding around, you hesitate; so scared that you’re wrong or will hurt the innocent flowers getting strangled.

You’re entirely unaware of the man peering down at you from his upstairs hallway window, that he’s been watching you meander around the garden the past couple of days, utterly puzzled about what you’re doing.

“Come on, you can do this,” you mutter to yourself before taking a few steadying breaths and leaning in to carefully start unwinding the weed from the stem of the flower closest to you.

Honestly, it’s a lot harder than you thought it’d be, you have to be so careful— or maybe not as careful as you’re being, but you’re inexperienced and scared to do something wrong—, and the strangling weed is a complete asshole. Just when you think you’ve freed a plant from it’s grasps, you notice another tiny, easy to miss vine curled around a stem, and you have to lean even closer, work even slower and cautiously to make sure you only pinch the weed off and not the stem of the flowers you want to save.

It takes hours for you to finish that one small flower bed, but when you get up ready to go indoors for a late lunch, you could swear the flowers look brighter, look like they’re standing tall and happy. Although they’re just plants, and they can’t possibly have such feelings, the thought still makes you smile, and you practically skip into your house with pride in your chest from your hard work.

On the third day of practically crawling around your garden on your hands and knees amongst the overgrown grass and sprawling stems and vines, you find yourself interrupted in the midst of a very one-sided conversation with a particularly happy looking weed. Honestly, you think it’s rather pretty and don’t want to remove it, but it’s greedily sucking all the water from the soil before the surrounding plants can get any, so you don’t really have a choice.

“Are you ready?” you ask the weed, after a very thorough pep talk to you both, letting the plant know that you have every intention of replanting it in the large plant pot you found hiding amongst an overgrown blackberry bush at the bottom of the back garden.

You don’t realise that you’re being watched in utter bewilderment until a truly unexpected voice meets your ears when you’ve got one hand in the already loosened soil, fingers amongst the thick roots of the weed, and the other hand carefully wrapped around the bottom of the main stem to keep it upright as you lift.

“What the fuck?”

Immediately, your head whips around, and your wide, startled gaze finds your neighbour standing on the other side of the low wall separating your side gardens— his much smaller than your own, and barely big enough to get his bicycle down the grassy strip to the shed in the back garden. He’s looking at you with eyes wide and mouth parted in what looks like astonishment.

“Uhm, hello,” you greet, shuffling on your knees a little, awkward, and not sure how you’re supposed to respond to the man. It’s the first time you’ve seen him face on without his gaze piercing down to your very soul.

“Did you just pull that weed out with your bare hands?” he questions, dumbly pointing to it, so you also look at the weed; the thick roots tangled between your fingers further than you realised, and soil covering your skin. Initially, you did wear gloves— and still do with the potentially harmful plants— but it’s easier to feel around the delicate plants without the thick material in the way, so you mostly don’t bother to wear them.

“It’s not poisonous,” you clarify, looking at the man. “I checked.”

“I didn’t mean that. I know it only harms other plants by stealing their water, but it’s stubborn. I’ve never seen anyone pull one without the use of some very strong tools, and even then, they usually need help.

“Oh, really?” you wonder, turning back to the plant, not noticing the roots gently winding around your wrist; the sensation too light and your focus elsewhere to notice. “I guess this one is a gentle soul,” you muse, then shuffle over to do as promised and carefully replant the weed in the waiting pot already full of fresh, damp soil. “There, now you can have all the water you want without hurting the others,” you declare once you’re done after pouring more water onto the soil.

When you get up and stretch, getting ready to relocate the pot a few metres away to a spot you think the weed will like a lot, yet not be a risk to other plants, you’re shocked to find your neighbour still standing there gawping at you. You’re not sure what to do or say. You want to move the pot and return to the flowerbed, but you know that you’ll have to awkwardly shimmy and shove the heavy pot, and you really don’t want the pretty man to watch you look so foolish, especially the first time that he’s shown an interest in you.

Honestly, you kind of hate that even when he’s done nothing but be icy towards you these past two months, you still think he’s so unbelievably beautiful. You don’t think it fair that people can be so mean without reason and still be blessed with such beauty. It’s unfair. Even a few weeks back when you told yourself you’d stop looking over whenever you notice him outside, you couldn’t help but want to catch a glimpse of his features, loveliness unmarred by the scowl etched into his expression whenever he met your gaze. You really did try to stop looking at him, but such a stunning masterpiece deserves to be admired, and you’ve always been a lover of art.

“How did you do that?” he mutters, still staring at the happily replanted weed. You really don’t know what to say, and you think miming the actions would entirely freak the man out, so you just stand there, twisting your soil dusted fingers together awkwardly, and blinking innocently, hoping he’ll move on already. Unfortunately, he doesn’t. “Seriously, what kind of charm did you use?” he enthuses, eyes widening in awed interest as they lift and land on you, as if he’s trying to look into your mind for his answers.

“Uhm…I don’t understand the question,” you admit. “Is…is this flirting?” you ask, pulling an uncertain face. You feel your heart drop a little at the way he rears back as if even the mere idea of him flirting with you is absurd.

“What? No!” He straightens up, levelling you with an expression that’s half boggled and half bewildered, with a little befuddlement thrown in.

“Oh. Sorry, you said charm, and I just…that’s a flirting thing, isn’t it? When someone uses their charm?”

For what feels like minutes, the man just stares at you, as if he needs time to fully register and absorb the words you’ve said. “Oh, you’re not using any magic.” There’s realisation in his tone as his whole posture changes, something a little awkward now, especially when he realises that now you’re staring at him as if you need time to understand what he’s said to you. Though when you do speak, it’s clearly not what he expects, if the way his eyebrows lift in surprise is anything to go on.

“Is that flirting?” you mumble a little dumbly, feeling so lost and out of your depth. A feeling that only grows when the last thing you expect to happen, happens. The man giggles. It’s a light, airy sound, melodic and so pretty, and so truly unexpected from the man who has done nothing but glare at you for two months. It makes your entire being malfunction, brain shutting off, heart racing, stomach flipping, and mouth moving to make some garbled attempt at words before your legs make you dart off inside, slam the door behind you, and then curl up on the floor against it in the strangest display of self-preservation you’ve ever enacted.

For the man’s part, he just stares after you in surprise for a few moments, then lets out another one of those giggles before he turns and heads back into his own house.

It’s almost twenty minutes before you’ve recovered enough to get up and stealthily peer out of the window overlooking the area of the garden that you had dedicated this morning to. You have the perfect view of the low wall splitting your land from the neighbour’s and let out a breath of relief to find him nowhere in sight.

“It’s fine, he’ll go back to glaring and I’ll never have to face him again, it’s fine,” you mutter as you tentatively return to the door to edge outside, convincing yourself to not hide in your house for the rest of your life so that you’ll never have to face your pretty neighbour again after making such a colossal fool out of yourself.

For the first hour of returning to gardening, you feel on edge, like the man will appear at any moment and question what kind of strange place you must be from to act like that. Thankfully, you get lost in your work and forget all about looking over your shoulder, returning to your plants with a content smile on your face.

To your horror, the very next day when you step out in the morning for another day of work, your pretty neighbour is standing on the other side of your closed gate as if he’s waiting for you, a tiny smile tilting his lips, and a cake box in his hands. It’s wrapped with a pretty orange bow the same colour as the little apron you tie around your waist every day to hold your most used gardening tools for easy access, and though you vaguely notice that, you quickly dismiss it as coincidence. There’s no way your neighbour purposely asked them to wrap it in that colour ribbon to match. No way. You also ignore the fact that you’ve bought from that bakery yourself a few times since moving to town, and you’ve only seen them use pale blue ribbons.

“Good morning,” he starts, shuffling the box a little so that one hand can lift, and his slender fingers can wiggle at you in a wave. You wave dumbly back, and his smile lifts. “I think we really got off on the wrong foot, and I’d like to make up for it. May we start over?” You don’t say anything, still too busy staring in shock. “My name is Minghao; I’m your neighbour, and I’d really like to get to know you,” he informs, tone gentle, and tags your name on the end as if you’re not already halfway to a mental breakdown from his mere presence.

The fact that he had actually paid attention when you introduced yourself that day— before shutting the door in your face— and remembers, feels like a much bigger deal than it is. You just genuinely hadn’t expected him to ever call you by your name, to even willingly talk to you, so hearing it fall so effortlessly, so easily from his lips, stuns you a little.

“I’m not a good baker, but I bought cupcakes; you know, sweeten the deal?” he jokes, smiling a little embarrassed by his own words, and cheeks so endearingly pink.

You squeak, then abruptly turn into your house, and hide behind the closed door.

When you recover moments later, you knock your forehead against the door and berate yourself for making a fool of yourself again in front of the man. If this is going to become a regular thing, you think you’re going to have to move away to save yourself endless future embarrassments.

It’s utterly out of character for you too; you’ve never made such a fool of yourself because of a pretty man before. Then again, you’ve never seen such a pretty man before, and you think that means you probably get a pass or two for not being able to react like a functioning human at the sound of his giggle, or your name said in his gentle voice, or a shy blush. Really it’s his fault for attacking you with sweetness after so much sour. You thought that was the man he is: nothing more than a bitter, unsociable asshole, but it seems that he has seriously mislead you.

The more you think about it, the more you want to know why he acted so coldly towards you, only to turn his attitude around all of a sudden. You think that you deserve an explanation, and you certainly won’t get one hiding away in your house.

With a renewed sense of determination flowing through your veins, you straighten your posture and open the door, only to lose a little of that strength and shrink slightly upon spotting Minghao still standing on the other side of the waist height wooden gate, leaning his right elbow on the thick top, chin propped on his palm, and amusement sparkling in his eyes as he watches you.

“Hi,” he greets, smiling as you step out of your home like a newborn lamb taking their first steps; uncertain and about ready to drop on your ass in a mess of weak legs if he keeps looking at you like this.

“Hi,” you reply, a barely audible croak, but he smiles wider and straightens up.

“I wasn’t sure what ones to get, so I went the safe route and bought lemon raspberry,” he informs as he holds the box over the gate in offer.

“That’s the safe option?” you wonder bewildered as you slowly get closer, approaching cautiously as if he’s going to reach out and sucker punch you in the throat. Or giggle; that’s potentially more dangerous, at least for your juddering heart and apparently very weak mental state when faced with gorgeous men. Or this gorgeous man in particular, you should say.

“Well, it’s sweet and sour, best of both worlds if you ask my friend. Though, I think he’d still rather more lemon, but he’s a freak, so we don’t consider his opinion where sour is concerned.”

“You do realise you just contradicted yourself, right?”

Just as you accept the gift into your hands, Minghao giggles, realising you’re right, and you almost drop the cupcakes. He flails his arms out to help, his hands settling over yours on either side of the box, and you can only stare dumbly up at him at the touch, how close you are. Dammit, he’s even prettier up close.

“We saved them,” he grins playfully at you.

And you, in all your brainless state when faced with this man and his smile, say perhaps the dumbest thing you possibly can right now. “My ex-husband cheated on me,” you blurt, and immediately turn wide eyed when Minghao recoils in shock, his hands leaving yours and his eyes widening to match yours.

“Uh—”

“I mean that I’m very single!” you declare, brain still apparently offline as you only make things worse. “I–I mean–” you stammer out a mess of panicked, jumbled words as Minghao’s expression melts, then twists into something that’s half amused, half utterly insanity inducing where it’s tucked into his smirk.

“Is this flirting?” he teases, leaning on his palms on the gate, tilting in towards you as he repeats the words you asked him less than 24 hours ago.

“Fact!” you sputter, shaking your head.

“Ah, I see. Well, if we’re exchanging facts, I’m very single too.”

“Good!” His lips turn up into a toothy grin, a little dark around the edges as his gaze remains utterly entertained and teasing on you. “I–I mean–”

“Do you have tea?” he asks, nodding towards your house, making you peek over your shoulder at it naturally to follow his prompt, then turn your head back to look at him and nod dumbly, head wobbling loosely and mouth still open from being cut off from your nervous, embarrassed rambling. “How about I come inside for tea?”

“Is that a euphemism?” you whisper, and he cracks up, leaning down onto the gate as he laughs bodily.

“Oh, you are precious,” he giggles, peering up at you from his hunched over spot.

“Thank you.”

He giggles some more before gathering himself and straightens up, cheeks bunched with how big he’s grinning. “So, tea?”

“Why did you glare so much?” you blurt, brain kicking back in enough to remember the whole reason you stepped back out of your house. You think that if you don’t take the chance to confront the man while you can, you’ll lose the will and ability and just get swept along with his sweet giggles and teasing gaze.

Minghao’s amusement melts away bit by bit at your words, until he’s looking aside with what appears like guilt on his features while he stares at the garden to your left, right where you left the pot with the pretty weed yesterday. “I’m not sure I can really explain, not in a way you’ll understand,” he admits, tone quieter, uncertain almost. “I can imagine it will be a lot for you to take in, to accept even. You’re not…” He sighs and returns his gaze to you. “I’m sorry for how I acted, it wasn’t kind of me at all. I suppose in simple turns, I was jealous. I’ve wanted this house for the garden since it went up for sale, but I couldn’t afford it, so when you moved in, I assumed you wouldn’t care for the garden at all, that you didn’t deserve such a place as this. But I was wrong; you deserve it more than I ever could, that proves it.” He points to the pot, confusing you.

“How does that prove anything?” He just gives you a little smile that you somehow just know means he has no intention of elaborating at all. “Right.” You frown a little, confused, and not sure what is the correct thing to do here when there’s clearly something Minghao is refusing to explain, but you also don’t think it’s your place to push.

When you reach out, Minghao steps back slightly, eyes widening, though he relaxes when you just unlatch the gate and pull it open in silent offer.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding so genuinely grateful and pleased that you quickly turn to lead the way into the house, and only trip slightly on the step leading into the house. “Oh, careful,” he worries, hands on your upper arms, having reached out to steady you.

You just hum vaguely in response, too scared to open your mouth in case something stupid comes out again, and rush to the kitchen to put the cupcake box on the table and get started putting the kettle on to boil.

“Oh, it’s beautiful in here,” Minghao comments, sounding awed as he looks around where he’s standing just inside the kitchen, seeming genuinely interested in the décor and little knickknacks you’ve placed around to make the place yours.

“Thank you.”

“It’s a huge change from how Elodie had it.”

“Elodie?”

“Oh, right.” He looks at you and smiles softly. “The previous owner. She had lived here for decades, ever since she married her husband. They raised all of their children here, helped raised grandchildren, and then he passed, and she followed not long after, too empty without him in this house to have the strength to go on.”

“Oh, that’s so sad.”

“In a way, but it’s beautiful in others; how much love they shared. They lived a long, happy life together, full of love and joy, and they’ll continue that in their afterlife. I think that’s the best life a person can live; finding love and true happiness like that, do you not agree?”

“I do, but I don’t think it’s possible for everyone, for most of us.”

“Respectfully, I disagree.” He moves over to help you set up the table as the kettle signals it’s boiled.

Although it makes no sense, although it shouldn’t be possible— especially considering the strained and awkward relationship the two of you have shared until now—, you and Minghao move around your kitchen together as if you’ve done this a million times. Of course, he doesn’t know where you keep items, but he asks in a gentle tone you naturally match without thinking when you answer. It’s calm; the two of you gathering everything needed without bumping into each other once and sitting down at the table opposite one another to share the cupcakes.

“So, what do you think?” he queries when you’ve taken a few bites of your cupcake, his own in a similar partially eaten state on the cute little plate before him. Plates you could not walk away from once you saw them in a second-hand store only last week. They’re too small to use for an actual meal, so you had been worried you wouldn’t find a reason to use them, but you just couldn’t leave them in the store; they’re far too cute, and you had immediately fallen in love with them.

It had made your heart flutter in a funny little pleased way when Minghao had also seemed to fall in love with the plates once he spotted them in the cupboard and excitedly grabbed two to set up for the pair of you to eat your cupcakes off. Honestly, you had intended to not bother with plates at all and just sweep the crumbs from the table after, you hadn’t even considered using the plates, but you’re more than happy that Minghao had suggested it.

“Hm?” you hum questioningly, and he points at the cupcake on your plate. “Oh, delicious. Sweet and a little sour, perfectly balanced.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” he agrees, smiling at you in an almost tender kind of way.

For a few moments, the two of you just hold gentle eye contact, share matching smiles, before he looks down, cheeks dusted pink. Neither of you say anything more, falling into a content, calm silence that feels so right that you hope this won’t be the last time that the two of you share tea and cupcakes at your kitchen table as if there’s nothing but this table, this moment, in the whole world.

Somehow, after that day, spending time with Minghao suddenly becomes such an everyday routine that not seeing him feels so wrong that you don’t quite know what to do with yourself when it happens.

“Missed me that much?” Minghao’s voice teases from right behind you where you’re sitting in your garden, aimlessly moving around the freshly sprinkled soil in the flowerbed in front of you, mind stuck on what Minghao has been doing for the past three days he’s not been home.

“Hao,” you gasp, turning to look up at him with rounded eyes. “You’re back. You said you’d be gone a week.”

“Mm missed your tea too much. You make the best tea, you know?” he replies as he sits a little to your side on the grass you cut only a few days ago.

It’s been weeks of tackling the garden— often with Minghao close by—, removing all the weeds, and pruning away until you could reasonably drag a lawn mower over the grass. Surprisingly, the grass is in great condition for the most part, only a few bare, patchy sections where you’ve had to remove harmful weeds and move decorative rocks to make it easier to mow.

“I do?” you ask, perking up a little at the compliment. You know it’s a huge compliment too, Minghao is something of a tea connoisseur, which you found out the very first time you entered his kitchen and saw his impressive collection of teas. He even has multiple tea sets which he uses depending on the vibe he wants— his own words.

“You do,” he confirms as he smiles at you in that same gentle way he always does these days, ever since the second time you ran away from him when overwhelmed by his pretty face and precious smile. You’d like to say that it hasn’t happened since, but that’d be a lie.

Even after these weeks of being friends with Minghao, he still finds ways to fluster you and make your brain stop functioning. Honestly, you’re pretty sure that he does it on purpose, finding your reactions funny; but you never have it in you to scold him, not when he’s gained the habit of reaching out to hold you in place so you that can’t run away. Sometimes, it’s just his hand holding yours securely that pins you down, but others, if it’s physically possible, Minghao’s arms find their way around you, and he holds you close to his chest with his head tilted to rest against yours. Maybe, sometimes, you pretend that you’re going to run away just so that he’ll pull you close, but you won’t tell him that.

“Though, I didn’t just miss your tea,” he adds as he watches his hand brush over the freshly cut grass.

“No? The garden?” you assume, knowing how much Minghao loves your garden, how he wanted to buy the house purely for the garden, yet couldn’t financially manage it.

Minghao’s house is half the size of yours, only built for two people really, with a much smaller garden to match; and so, even if he sold it, he wouldn’t have had the funds to buy your house when it was available. He had been trying so hard to save up though; hence why he scared potential buyers away, hoping he could keep the house free long enough to gather the funds. But you bought it, and he burned with envy.

He’s let it go now and even admitted to you that he knew he’d never realistically be able to afford it. But hope can be a dangerous thing at times, and it took him until he watched you genuinely love and care for your then neglected garden to let that soured hope free and accept the facts.

Though, only days into your friendship, when you gave him permission to help you tend to the gardens and allotted him an area to grow whatever he wants there— having overrun his own modest garden—, you saw something lift in him, and he’s been nothing but grateful and so lovely since.

Not that Minghao isn’t a genuinely lovely person— when he’s not being a jealous asshole, that is. He’s truly such a wonderful man that you find it impossible to calm the butterflies in your stomach every time you find him looking at you with that soft gaze. But there’s something even sweeter in his smiles now, something that lightens his steps and makes him almost float into your garden every single day when he spots you out there.

Logically, it makes sense that, other than your tea-making skills, Minghao has missed your garden. In fact, you’ve never seen the man happier than when he’s sitting in your garden, smiling contently at you over a cup of tea, and soil staining his fingers around the porcelain.

“No, not the garden either,” he replies, utterly bewildering you. He glances at you from under his lashes, smiles, then lifts his head just enough to lock his gaze with yours, let you see the truth in his eyes. “You, I missed you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, and your heart skips probably about five too many beats to be healthy, but you don’t care, barely even notice. Especially as your mind shuts down and focuses entirely on the beautiful man before you, his words.

As soon as your body starts to move, tries to run away to hide, Minghao reaches out to grab your arms and pull you in. So naturally that it feels like you were made for this, you curl up against him, tuck up against his chest as he settles you between his spread thighs, your left shoulder pressing to his chest with your arms curled up, fingers loosely grasping his t-shirt. Minghao’s arms settle around you, his head rests against the top of yours, and you never want to be anywhere else. The content little breath he lets out makes you think that maybe, he feels the same way.

After some minutes, when your brain decides to come back online fully instead of floating around on Minghao shaped clouds, you try to sit up. Minghao makes a noise of displeasure and tugs you back, earning a little giggle to fall from your lips. You feel his cheek bunch against your hairline as he smiles.

“Let me go put the kettle on for tea,” you say, smile evident in your light tone.

“Tea can wait.”

You gasp and lean back enough to look at him in shock. “Tea can wait?”

“This is more important,” he assures. One arm breaks your comfortable cocoon as he lifts it so that he can tenderly brush his fingers over your cheek. He says nothing, but he doesn’t need to. You tilt into his hold, prompting his palm to curve against your cheek, and he lets out another one of those content sighs. “You’re so beautiful, you know?”

“Says you,” you return, tone matching his gentle one, only loud enough for the pair of you, nothing mattering past your garden, your little bubble of home. “You’re so pretty it makes me do and say dumb things.”

Minghao giggles, and you whine a little, unable to stop it, or the way your eyes round out, so enamoured by his adorable giggles that you can’t keep it off your face any longer. Not that you’ve ever been good at hiding it, but this close with one of his slender hands still reverently caressing your skin, you couldn’t hide your adoration if you tried.

“Mm, I noticed that,” he muses teasingly and leans a little closer as he grins softly. “But I like it, like how honest you are with your reactions.”

“Even though it makes me look like a fool?”

“Even though,” he agrees with a nod. “Maybe especially because it does. It’s so cute and strokes my ego.”

“I’d love to stroke you,” you mutter dumbly as his thumb brushes the edge of your mouth. Minghao snorts a laugh, leaning back so he doesn’t laugh directly in your face. “I didn’t mean like that…not that I’d say no…if you want to do that.”

Minghao giggles again and leans back in to press a kiss to your forehead that makes you gasp softly and grip his t-shirt tighter, pulse thrumming under your skin from the unexpected affection. “Let me at least take you on a date first,” he teases. You can’t nod fast enough, setting him off into giggling laughter all over again as he curls around you and holds you closer, as if there’s nowhere he’d rather be.

A year and a half ago, you moved to a sweet little town, into a house that had been left empty and untouched for over a year, and you turned it into your home.

And now, after almost a year since that day in the garden when Minghao first asked you on a date, the house next to yours is empty. You can’t help but frown a little as you peer at it from your bedroom window, recalling all the memories you made with the man who once lived there, how much happiness you created together there.

Though, the arms winding around your waist from behind, the lips that press a tender kiss to your temple as you lean back against a familiar chest, makes the frown lift into a sweet little smile. “Stop looking at it like that, or I’ll start to believe you regret asking me to move in,” Minghao teases against your skin, tightening his hold on you a little as he leans closer into you, both of you always moving to be tucked up as close as possible in these moments of affection.

“Ridiculous man,” you scold, scoffing, yet the smile on your face only grows.

“You love this ridiculous man.”

“I do,” you confirm without hesitation, with nothing but truth in your tone. “And he loves me too.” You turn your head so that you can meet his adoring gaze.

“With everything in me,” he agrees, with just as much certainty as you spoke with, then leans in to press a kiss to your lips. “Now, come to bed, it’s our first night in our shared home.” He giggles, sounding a little giddy at his own reminder, then quickly ushers you over to the bed after closing the curtains to block out the night and give you the privacy to be able to sleep comfortably.

The pair of you excitedly clamber under the covers and cuddle up, though you both know neither of you are ready to sleep yet, too full of joyous energy thanks to this big step in your relationship, this start of a new life together; a life you both hope will be as happy and full of love as the life of previous family who lived here once upon a time.

“Hao,” you prompt after a while of content quiet between you, happy to just lay basking in one another’s love and affection. He hums questioningly in response. “I think, considering that we now live together, it’s about time you tell me the truth.”

Minghao’s hand trailing mindlessly over your waist immediately stops. “What? What does that mean?” he asks, sounding confused and a little upset. “I haven’t lied to you.”

“I know, but you haven’t told me the truth either.” You adjust, wriggling around until you’re leaning up on your elbows on his right and peering down at his furrowed features looking at up at you in the dull lamp light. “The very first day we became friends, when you told me your name and invited yourself over for tea–”

“You opened the gate,” he reminds, sounding a little petulant, making you giggle shortly before continuing.

“You told me I wouldn’t understand why you hated me so much for buying this house.”

“Oh.” His expression turns into understanding, and he tugs you back down, making you return to your rightful place at his side with your head on his chest— not that he ever needs to make you cuddle up to him, you’re always more than happy do to that. “I guess it is time I tell you, huh; you’ll learn soon enough anyway, now that we live together and I won’t be able to keep hiding it from you.”

“Wait, hiding—” you try to question him, but he shushes you and holds you tighter, places a kiss on your hairline to placate you into falling still and silent.

“You know how I always say the garden is special? Things grow and thrive there in a way they wouldn’t in my old garden, despite it being only a wall away?” You hum in confirmation, easily recalling the words he’s muttered many times over the past year you’ve been tending the garden together. “There are things that can only grow in this garden, in this soil, and Elodie used to grow them for me, knowing I needed them for my work, and it’s very expensive to get them shipped in from other places.”

“So you were pissed that you had to keep spending all that money to get your fancy flowers for your teas?” you reason, assuming that the plants Elodie used to grow, the plants Minghao now grows in the garden, are ones he dries and makes up into the homemade tea blends he runs a rather successful business selling mostly online, though some locals would turn up at his house— old house— asking for wares.

“Sort of, but not exactly,” he giggles. “They’re not exactly teas, my love.”

“What do you mean? I’ve seen them, we have them filling a cupboard in the kitchen.”

“We do and those are teas, nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” you repeat, wanting to lift up to give him a suspicious look, but he holds you firm, knowing exactly that you intended to do that.

“The ones I sell to the locals and special clients, my real source of income and true job, are potions I make as a witch.”

“A witch?!” you shriek, rearing up so fast that Minghao’s arms fly off you. Then again, the man is too busy laughing away on the mattress to hold on, finding your reaction so hilarious. Especially when he can tell that you believe him entirely, don’t even think he’s joking with you despite how a part of him thought you would accuse him of playing around. But it makes him happy, makes his heart swell, so full of love for the woman who trusts him with her entire heart and soul. He’s eternally grateful for that.

“Yes, I’m a witch, born and raised,” he confirms through his giggles, beaming up at you. “This house was built on magic soil, or the ground became infused with magic over the years, nobody really knows.”

“Is that why you glow here?” you wonder, tilting your head curiously as you sit cross legged by his side.

“Glow?” he repeats, looking utterly bewildered. “Magic doesn’t make a person glow.”

“No?” Your features scrunch a little in confusion. “Then what’s that about? Ever since you started to spend more time here, you look like you glow, not physically, but like…from within.”

Minghao’s expression turns into understanding; he sits up to cup your face and presses a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. “That glow is my love for you, growing stronger each day I spend by your side. You make me glow, sweetheart, not magic.”

“Oh,” you breathe out, cheeks warming, and eyes round and sparkling on him. “I want to make you glow like that for the rest of my life.”

“Good, because I’m never leaving your side,” he promises, and seals it with a kiss that makes you feel so warm and fuzzy, like maybe, he’s not the only one who glows.

Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

[thestraybunny]

Spring Storm *C.SC*

Pairing: Non-Idol Carpenter Seungcheol x F. Waitress Reader WC: 14.5+K Rating: E 18+ MDNI Genre: Non-Idol AU, Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), Smut, fluff, slight angst Summary: Seungcheol thought he had his life planned out. From his job to his home to who he was going to spend his life with. You were just a lost soul trying to find a place to call home, a new face to the small town of Diamond Ridge. Coming into his life and make him question if he really had it planned out?

Tags: Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), small town, Carpenter! Seungcheol, Waitress! Reader, Slowish burn, cheating accusation, rumors, mention of a dead family member, Member appearances, drinking, illusion to driving after drinking  (def do not do this), the reader is called some names (derogatory), wet Seungcheol, flirting, yearning, angst, smut Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie

A/N: This is my first fic for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef, as well for S.Coups. It was meant to be posted this weekend but Im a bit too excited to post it, and this is my first collab and I am so happy to be apart of it and such a great network. @mylovesstuffs and @nothoughtsjustfic thank you so much for doing this collab and giving me the chance to join in! A/N2: Thank you to @gam3bo17 for betaing this fic for me, and then yell at me for more. xD Well I hope you all enjoy!! A/N3: The line in the banner "she brings the rain, it feels like spring" is from the song She brings the Rain by CAN.

Seventeen Fic Masterlist

*End of February/March*

The music playing softly through the jukebox was something from the eighties, older than many of the patrons occupying the diner, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. In fact, it was one of his favorites to listen to as he enjoyed his dinner. The soft rock filtering through the semi quiet restaurant, the murmurs of conversations from those around him drowned out.

Some getting off work late like he had, needing a late night dinner, some on dates, or the night owls that couldn’t sleep but couldn’t stay home either. It didn’t matter to him why any of them were there, because to them it didn’t matter why he was there.

“Want a refill?” Mingyu asked, stopping in front of him, jutting his chin at the half empty glass while balancing a few plates in his hands. His brows wet with sweat from the kitchen and running around the place. Seungcheol glanced up from his burger to give his friend a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol nodded, popping a fry into his mouth, and the taller man gave him a quick smile before hurrying off to serve food. The door chimed with someone either coming or going, but Seungcheol didn’t bother to check, choosing to watch Seokmin work effortlessly to cook the meals being ordered.

He didn’t even spare a glance when he heard the barstool next to him scraping against the floor, or at the person occupying it. Too tired to look anywhere else but forward.

“Hey. What are we having tonight?” Mingyu’s voice spoke up, grabbing Seungcheol’s glass to refill the soda.

“Just a burger and fries. No tomatoes.” The person spoke up, a voice that he didn’t recognize and he glanced toward the source. “Just water.”

“On it,” Mingyu nodded, setting the refilled soda in front of him. Slapping the pass while calling out her order, then grabbed a few more plates ready to be served. “Be right back with your water.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol reached for his drink, finding himself observing the new face. You.

He hadn’t seen you before. In a town the size of Diamond Ridge,Seungcheol pretty much knew everyone. Hell, most the people in the diner he grew up around, so you stuck out to him. Your hair loose around your face, and clothes that looked like they were swallowing you up. You weren’t looking around, you were looking down at diner counter, a faraway look in your eyes.

You looked lost.

“You okay?” Seungcheol found himself asking, your gaze snapping to him. Eyes wide in surprise that someone was speaking to you, not expecting anyone to talk to you. Let alone ask you if you were okay.

“Oh, uh, yeah…yeah.” You answered nodding quickly, and it was cute the way you turned away before turning back, “Its…just I just moved here, and I’ve only really spoken to Mr. Kim. He’s my new landlord.”

“So, you’re the one who took the apartment above this place.” Seungcheol mused, taking a drink of the carbonated drink. Setting the glass down, he wiped his hands onto a crumbled napkin before offering it you. “Welcome to Diamond Ridge. Seungcheol.”

He watched as your gaze drop to his hand, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Now it’s your turn to take him in, moving from his hand back to his face then back. Contemplating taking it.

There wasn’t anything off about him in his opinion. A pair of dirty steel toed work boots, jeans well-worn and covered in dirt with his dark blue flannel matching. His short dyed blond hair a mess on his head. He felt he was also an okay looking guy, his face more tired than serious in that moment.

He just looked like a guy who got off a long shift and just wanted a hot meal.

Finally you took his hand, a firm but delicate grip with your palm warm against his. Almost too warm.

“Y/N.” You answer softly, letting go of his hand just as quick as you took it.

“Y/N.” Seungcheol said slow, feeling each syllable on his tongue. He nodded, giving you a friendly smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” You answer as Seokmin called out that more orders were ready. Mingyu then appeared in front of the two of you, setting down your water down before turning to the pass where the food was waiting.

“Yours is up next.” Mingyu let you know grabbing the plates. Seungcheol didn’t realize that it had gotten busier since he came in, his focus now on the new face next to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim.” You tell him, giving him a polite nod and he stopped in front of you for a moment.

“I told you, just call me Mingyu.” He playfully scolded, then was back out on the floor to serve. Seungcheol had gone back to the last of his food, but he glancing toward you.

You also sent a few his way while you waited, neither of you said anything further. You focused on not being noticed, despite being the most noticeable thing there. An unfamiliar face in a room of familiar ones, which he could only imagine how nerve wracking that was. To be a stranger.

“Ready to pay, Cheol?” Mingyu stopped in front of him moments later, and the older man nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin. Standing, Seungcheol pulled his wallet out to get enough to cover his and your meal.

“For both our meals.” Hearing this, you whipped your head toward him, ready to protest, but he was already starting toward the door, “Keep the change as a tip, Gyu. Have a great night, Y/N.”

You knew being someone new to such a small town was going to get you attention, but that didn’t mean you were used to the stares. The looks that followed you wherever you went, ranging from pure curiosity to caution to straight suspicion.

Everyone seemed to know each other, with so many growing up together. So, they were able to greet each other by name, talk with each other like old friends, while asking for your name was a foreign phrase to them. It would lead to questions that you weren’t ready to answer, and you could feel the judgement in their eyes when you avoided those questions.

You weren’t sure if you were the one making yourself an outsider or if the town’s people made you feel that way. It was not your intention to, nor could it have been for just the ones curious.

There were several friendly faces that made you feel welcome and didn’t ask too many questions. Mingyu and Seokmin were nice to you, with the taller happily hiring you on as a waitress. There was only two, and a third was desperately needed. Diamond Ridgewas a pretty small town, but Kim’s Diner was a popular spot. Even during the slowest times of the day, there was always someone in a booth eating.

Then there was the man who paid for your meal one night. Seungcheol. His gaze curious, but it didn’t feel like the way everyone else in town looked at you. He didn’t ask anything further than if you were okay, and he paid for your meal when he didn’t have to. The kindness he showed you made you feel more welcome than so many of others, and it made you want to return it to him as well.

But you hadn’t seen him again since.

For a moment, you thought maybe he’d been part of your imagination, a hallucination since you’d been sleep deprived that night. Unable to get sleep with your mind racing and your cat Max meowing through the studio apartment. The chubby tabby was still getting used to the new living arrangements, but he found the acoustics of the place made him happy.

But he wasn’t part of your imagination, with Mingyu confirming that you weren’t hallucinating. He was a very real person. Though you still had your doubts, since you hadn’t seen him since that night, with only your memory to go off of and you were too nervous to ask any of the locals about him. Nor could you ask your boss or any of your coworkers.

You were friendly with them, but you weren’t friends, nor comfortable enough to ask or talk to them about anything more than surface level. Though you probably should have in hindsight.

The fact the local bar was named Cheers made you giggle, thinking about the show with the same bar name when you walked into it. It was a hole in the wall that was found in the heart of Diamond Ridge’s main square, tucked just enough away that it took the sign out front to find it.

The inside was bigger than what you expected, walking toward the bar while taking in your surroundings. It was a slower night, with maybe five people there, and that was counting the bartender. Two were off at the pool tables, chatting and laughing, while the rest were sitting at the bar. None of them paying you a single mind, other than the bartender. He was a shorter man, with jet black hair that reached just past the nape of his neck, and a muscular frame under a fitted shirt. His sharp eyes zeroing in on you as he approached, his face neutral and didn’t give away if he recognized you or even cared. 

“What can I get you?” He asked, throwing a white towel over his shoulder, leaning against the bar patiently waiting for your order.

“Uh, I’ll take an old fashion,” You answer, and he made quick work on your drink.

“Starting a tab, or paying now?” He wasn’t even looking at you when asking.

“Tab?” It’s then he looked up at you, his brow raised, and it was then you realized your words sounded unsure. You coughed into your fist, clearing your throat to speak again, “Sorry, I’ll start a tab.”

“Name?” The bartender placed the drink in front of you, before looking at you expectantly.

“Y/N.”

“Just let me know if you want anything else.” Then he walked away, leaving you to your drink.

With glass in hand, you scanned the near empty bar for somewhere to sit, not particularly interested sitting at the counter. There was several tables and a few booths through it with a set of pool tables in the back corner and already being occupied by two men. Picking one of the booths, you sat to nurse your drink. 

It was another night that you didn’t want to be home, even with Max cuddling and the television playing something to keep the place filled with noise. You didn’t like it, you weren’t used to it, and you weren’t sure if you could get used to it. It didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t…wouldn’t go back so you had to eventually. For now, you’d just find things to occupy yourself until that happened.

You barely touch your drink, kind of regretting choosing it instead of something else, but it was the only thing you could think of. Then again, you never were much of a drinker, and you drove here. You needed to drive home, so what were you even thinking getting a drink? Taking another slow sip, you scrunch your nose at the taste, licking your lips in hopes to find something other than the taste of alcohol. You didn’t.

Laughter from over at the pool tables drew your attention in that direction and the two men playing a game. One was lean with long dark hair that was pulled back, giving way to one of the prettiest faces you’d ever seen, while the other’s back was to you. This man had short dyed blond hair, spiked up, but you couldn’t see his face. He was in a simple pair of black jeans and a black tank that showed off thick shoulders and arms. You catch sight of the top of a tattoo between his shoulder blades, and something over his shoulder.

You couldn’t make out what the words said, you weren’t close enough nor did you want to look like you’re staring. Only before you could look away, the pretty one’s eyes flicked to you and the smile he had quickly turned into a smirk. Catching you looking at his friend.

He then leaned forward to say something to his friend, making him look over his shoulder to you. The look on your face had to be a funny one, since the pretty one had burst out laughing while the other held your gaze.

Was… was that Seungcheol?

You’d only seen him one night at the diner, and the lighting hadn’t been the best, so you couldn’t remember him exactly. You only could remember his dark eyes, the curiosity and kindness that had resonated with you. That and the way his hand felt when you shook it. Strong, calloused, and warm. So warm it felt like it could burn you if you held on too long.

Breaking the contact, you looked down to notice the ice had melted in your drink, the hand holding it cold and wet from condensation. Now wishing that you just paid for it rather than opening a tab, to make an easy escape. 

“Y/N, right?” You hadn’t realized you were approached, let alone it being him who had. It must’ve been apparent when you looked up toward him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open which earned a chuckle from him. It was Seungcheol, smiling at you and that was when you noticed he had dimples.

“Ye…yeah! Seungcheol?” You finally answer now that your brain caught up with you and to the man standing before you. Leaning slightly on the pool stick he was holding, and your eyes landed on his arms. They were thick, strong looking, like the rest of his body. A body well taken care of, but also from years of hard work.

“He is, in fact,” The pretty man spoke up next to you, making you nearly jump out of your skin, not seeing him slip into the booth with you. Sticking out a slender hand, the pretty man’s tried to conceal his smirk behind a welcoming smile, “Jeonghan.”

You stare at his hand before taking it to give a brief shake, saying your name despite him already hearing it, but Jeonghan held on. Eyes studying you carefully, from the way your hair was done to the clothes you were wearing. A pair of baggy acid wash jeans that was barely being held up by a belt, a white thermal shirt under a larger shirt. An old, faded band one, well-loved with holes through it and was too big for your body.

Jeonghan then nodded, like he was approving of something only he knew, finally letting go of your hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve been quite the talk of the town.” He observed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and chuckled, “Which I take you aren’t too fond of.”

“I don’t think anyone would like to find themselves at the center of gossip.” You pointed out, and he let out another chuckle. Nodding in agreement.

“You have me there,” Jeonghan then shot a look toward Seungcheol, then back to you, “Now, we can’t have you sitting here drinking alone. How about you come drink with us, play some pool. Have fun with some friends.”

“I just met you.” This made Seungcheol laugh, while the other man looked surprised at your comeback.

“More the reason to join,” he pressed, slipping out of the booth and offer his hand to you. A friendly gesture, a chance to not be alone for a change. Your gaze then moved to Seungcheol, who looked like he was about to start pouting that his friend offered this. Not him.

It was… it was kind of cute.

“I don’t know how to play pool, but I’ll hang out,” You agree, the words directed toward Jeonghan while you kept your gaze on Seungcheol. Grabbing your glass, you get out of the booth, ignoring Jeonghan’s out reached hand. It was noticed by both men.

“After you.” The pretty man gestured to follow Seungcheol, which you did, clutching your watered down drink in the process.

“You finish stalling now? Or are you ready to have your ass kicked?” Seungcheol asked Jeonghan, picking up a beer that was left at the pool table.

“I wasn’t stalling. Just wanted an audience to watch me win,” The other man teased, grabbing his pool stick and gave you a teasing wink. The gesture makes you roll your eyes, finding a stool to sit on. Seungcheol took a swig of his beer before sitting it next to you.

“Watch this for me?” He asked, dark eyes sliding over your face and made your cheeks feel warm. You give him a small nod, earning a gummy smile, “Knew I could count on you.”

As they played, the conversation flowed with the two men making sure to include you. Explaining who the people being mentioned were, providing a little background to a few jokes. They also asked you different things as well. Surface questions, like when your birthday was, if you had pets, and how you were adjusting to small town life.

That game ended in a draw and lead to several more, with both men earning a win under their belt each. You had another drink while they had several more beers. Enjoying their company, the way they made you feel included. Not a stranger, but a longtime friend.

That was until the question came up.

“So, what brought you to Diamond Ridge?” It was Jeonghan who asked, lining up his shot that would win him the game, and it made you physically stiffened. Your back straighter, the smile on your face now an uncomfortable frown. Jeonghan didn’t notice but Seungcheol did.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol spoke up, his words coming out like a warning, watching you push your tongue out to wet your bottom lip and attempt to relax your body. The question had been on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but very few tried to asked. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The only person who knew anything had been Mingyu, and that was only to get him to agree to rent to you. He too had been weary of you when you first walked into his diner. Tired from driving hours from the city, lost, hungry, and desperate for a place for you and your cat to rest.

There was a loud crack as Jeonghan took his shot, the sound of the cue ball hitting the eight ball perfectly and pocketing it easily. Winning the game. Straightening himself back up, he looked at you both with a triumphant grin on his face and a shrug to his shoulder.

“It’s just an honest question. It’s not like we’d judge her.” He defended his reasoning, and while what he said may be true, it didn’t mean you were comfortable enough to share it yet. Let alone in a bar. “The last time we had anyone new move here was Joshua and his mom in high school. Can’t blame us for being curious.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Seungcheol told you, arms crossed and the grip on the pool stick tightening. It was hard to not stare at the way his muscled bulged doing this, while you shifted in your seat. You knew you didn’t have to answer, but his assurance did help.

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his head tilted, studying something you couldn’t see, before his focus was mostly on Seungcheol. The corner of his lips turned up, a flash of something go across his own dark eyes, before giving him a nod.

“I see.” That was all he said before setting the pool stick onto the table to saunter passed his friend and you, “I am going for a smoke and see if I can flirt some free drinks out of Jihoon over there. You two want to join?”

“I don’t smoke,” You shake your head.

“I quit remember,” Seungcheol answered at the same time, then let out a scoff, “And good luck with the flirting. He’ll just charge you double.”

“Price to pay to see him get all cute and flustered.” The pretty man joked, leaving the two of you alone at the tables.

A pregnant silence followed.

“I’m sorry that he asked that.”

“Don’t be,” You say him waving him off, slightly wishing that your empty glass still had alcohol in it. “I don’t blame him or anyone else wanting to ask… I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Seungcheol said calmly, finishing what was left of his beer. Setting it with the growing collection of empty bottles, he caught the way your eyes went to his arms before back to his face. Making his already red flushed skin brighten, gesturing toward the pool table. “You want to play?”

“I don’t know how to,” You repeat what you had said earlier when Jeonghan had invited you to play, and this earned a chuckle from the blond man.

“I’m not that good myself, but it’s pretty straightforward,” He then went on to give you a quick lesson on the game. Explaining the rules. You would either be solid or stripes and needed to get them all pocketed before putting in the black eight ball using a white cue ball and a pool stick. It sounded easy enough. Grabbing the stick that Jeonghan had been used, he offered it to you.

“Thank you for the offer, but…” You went to decline, only to stop when your gaze went from the pool stick to his face, finding that his bottom lip started to jut out in a pout. You managed to stop the laugh that wanted to escape you, but not the smile that graced your lips. He really was pouting over this.

Something inside you told you to take him up, and for once, you listened.

“You know what,” Standing from your seat, you took the stick he was offering. “One game.”

“That’s my girl.” He said softly, setting up the table so you could start a game, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you stood there paying attention to what he was doing, letting him teach you. Once ready, he gestured toward the table, “You first.”

“Me?” You asked with wide eyes. He nodded his head as you shook yours, “I think you should start, so I can see what I should do.”

“You been watching us all night,” Despite this, Seungcheol didn’t argue further and positioned his stick with the cue ball. “Just got to make sure you’re lined up just right, and…” the stick hit the cue, breaking the triangle of balls at the end of the table. He straightens up as they ricocheted around, even pocketing a couple, “the game is started. Your turn.”

With a deep breath, you moved into position, trying to mimic what he had just shown you. Lining up the stick with the cue ball, but when you went to hit it you missed.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, and Seungcheol laughed softly.

“Your postures wrong. Here try again,” He encouraged, and you did as you were told. What you weren’t expecting was Seungcheol leaning over you, one hand placed gently on your elbow and his other helping you adjust your stance. His chest was slightly pressed against your back as he leaned closer, his mouth close to your ear. “You stand like this. Your eyes should be leveled, so you can get a good look at your shot.”

You were listening, but you could also feel your brain suddenly stop working at the smell of his perfume hitting your nostrils, or how his hot breath hit your ear. It made your own breath catch in your throat feeling his warm body encase yours, something that he clearly heard by the way he froze but didn’t let go. When he turned his head to look at you, you took the chance to hit the cue.

The cracking of the ball hitting another echoed, and you took the chance to move from him as a solid one dropped into one of the pockets. Barely able to register it with your skin feeling hot, tingling from his warm breath against it.

“Looks like you’re solids,” Seungcheol mumbled out, his attention staying on the table, but you could see that the red tint of his skin was now deeper. Taking a deep breath, he took his turn, “That makes me stripes.”

Neither of you got close like that again as the game played on, with Jeonghan returning with three more drinks that he tried to claim was free. Taking your original seat, he wasn’t watching the game you were playing, he was watching the two of you. Easily picking up the way you were acting. 

You were talking and laughing like nothing happened, but the lingering glances you kept doing made it pretty obvious that something was there.

“Last call!” Jihoon called out right as Seungcheol landed the winning shot, sinking the eight-ball easily. You hadn’t realized it was so late nor had you intended to stay out this long.

“Good game.” Seungcheol stuck his hand that you took to shake, making eye contact with him in the process. His eyes darkened with something unspoken, as if he was still thinking about that moment earlier, his hand gently squeezing yours. This time you didn’t let your body betray you and kept wearing a friendly smile.

“Same here.” You answer. It was then that you two realized that Jeonghan had disappeared. “Where did…”

“He does that. I got to give it to him, he stayed longer than he usually does.” The blond answered, taking your pool stick to put away. Taking this chance, you looked back around the now empty bar, with only you, Seungcheol, and the bartender named Jihoon left. Who had been staring you both down since yelling last call minutes earlier.

When you went to close your tab, you found it had already been paid for, and your other drinks had been placed on Seungcheol’s.

“No, let me pay!” You tell him when he pulled out his wallet to pay, digging through your jean pockets for yours. “It’s only fair since you paid for my dinner the other night.”

“You don’t owe me for that, and you don’t owe me for this,” He said simply, already handing several bills to the shorter man. Jihoon then gave you both a nod, his way of saying goodnight you guess, and went to close the tab. You went to protest, your own lip jutting out in a pout, and this made Seungcheol let out a laugh. Leading you out of the bar, you were met with the cool, dewy air and an empty street.

The still cold night sent a shiver through you, going from a warm bar to this that not even your thermal was able to help like you hoped. Seungcheol, now covered in a black leather jacket, took notice and attempted to take it off to give to you.

“No, I’m okay. I will just blast the heater when I get into my car.” You shake your head, and he slowly pulled it back over his shoulder.

“Let me walk you to your car at least.” He didn’t give you the opportunity to decline though, directing you in the direction the only two vehicles on the street. Your little black  Buick, and his old white Chevy truck. “You good to drive home?”

“I’ll be okay. How about you?” You ask, stopping next to the driver side of your car, watching the way Seungcheol slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His own gaze on you.

“Yeah, it takes more than the weak ass beer that Jihoon gets in to make a difference.” He nodded, neither of you making any moves to leave.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For dinner the other night, the drinks tonight and hanging out, and… for walking me to my car.” You manage to stutter out, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the cold air hitting your face. This earned a smile from him, a gummy one that made his eyes crinkle, and the dimples on his cheeks deepened.

The smile made him look younger, almost boyish, making you want to keep seeing it. Keep having it in your direction.

“Anytime.” His gaze stayed on you for moments longer, his grin softening before he nods his head to you. “Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

*April*

 If there is one thing about a small town like Diamond Ridge, it’s how easily word can spread even when you don’t want it to. Rumors and gossip can be shaped with each exchange of ‘what so and so said or seen’ and become almost its own being and farthest from the truth. Even if it was a complete misunderstanding, or something that was misinterpreted by nosey eyes.

Being shown how to play pool and then being walked to your car after is a good example.

You still weren’t used to the way people would stare or whisper around you, but you had learned to tune it out. Ignore whatever story they have spun about you, why you moved to the town, how you dressed or kept to yourself. It was easier than to let yourself listen or even try to defend yourself with things you weren’t comfortable to give away.

You didn’t need them to look at you with suspicion and pity. If they even cared to show pity.

When you worked, you kept a friendly smile on your face, ignoring the stares that the patrons would provide you as you served them. You kept a friendly smile as some of them would request another server or Mingyu to help them instead of you. You taught yourself how to not take it all to heart, to not think about it, hoping that if you kept your head down enough it would all stop.

That was until Mingyu had come to you with concern.

“There you are,” He sounded relieved when he stepped foot out of the diner to find you out there. You were sitting on the steps that lead to your apartment, your focus on way the trees around the diner were full of leaves and flowers, while watching the way the birds flew from each branch. Singing a song that only they could understand. “Seokmin told me you went on break but weren’t in your hiding spot in the kitchen.”

“It’s a nice day out. I figured getting some fresh air would be nice.” You answer him, a smile gracing your lips as you enjoyed the view of the trees that stretched far behind the diner. You hadn’t dared to venture into them yet, but you wondered how easy it would be to get ‘lost’ in them. To let nature surround you instead of people. Then you noticed the look of concern on his face, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way, not sure how to broach the subject. “I really don’t know how to talk to you about this.”

“Did I mess up on someone’s order?” It was a reasonable thing to ask, you had been busier than usual that morning and at one point it felt like a blur. By the time your break came around, you couldn’t stay in the stuffy diner, not even in the little walk in fridge that you had claimed as a small hiding spot.

“No, your service has been great, everyone who I spoke to admits that you’re good at your job,” He shook his head before taking a seat next to you on the steps. He runs his hand through his dark hair, “But there has been… concerns.”

“Concerns?” You repeat flatly, the smile on your face dropping. “What kind of concerns?”

“Someone saw you getting cozy with Seungcheol at the bar the other night and leave with him after it closed.” He answered after a moment, still sounding unsure at his approach. You could only blink. “Did you?”

“I went to the bar, yeah, but I was not cozying up to anyone. Seungcheol and his friend Jeonghan invited me to drink with them instead of alone and play some pool. Then he walked me to my car after the bar closed, he went home and I came back here. That’s it, nothing happened.” You tell him honestly, your hands slowly closing into fists. Trying to figure out who could have made that up, then again, you couldn’t put it past anyone here in town. “Besides, what’s the concern over it anyways?”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, most of the people asking for a different server… are couples…” Mingyu said slowly, and you blinked confused. You didn’t exactly notice what kind of people were requesting to not be served by you, but thinking back to it all, it was mostly couples asking. The women being the ones requesting it, and it started to make sense about what their looks of disgust meant.

You had been so used to ignoring and not acknowledging them that it didn’t occur to you what was happening. You started to rack your brain and started to pay attention to the mumblings, the whispers, and you remembered why you learned to ignore it.

“I didn’t even try to think about it… I mean it’s not like he’s…” The words died on your lips, already sounding unsure and full of the annoyance that was starting to build in your chest. Mingyu didn’t answer, he just watched you with a pitied look that said to use your head. “Seungcheol… isn’t single.”

“They’re not anything official yet, but he has been seen around town with her more often than not. So, yeah.” Mingyu could see the way your eyes dimmed, and the frown on your face deepening. “I take it that you didn’t know.”

“No, because I don’t go around asking people if they are taken. I didn’t even actively seek him out, I was invited to hang out with them as a friend.” Your voice continued to not come out the way you wanted, with it coming out higher than you would like and probably sounded pathetic to Mingyu.

“Hey, I believe you,” Your boss said with a sigh, reaching over and patting your knee, “Cheol is a nice guy, and he’d give you the shirt off his own back if needed. Hell, this town knows him, but they just don’t know you… or your intentions.”

“My intentions is to live my life without bullshit,” You snap, swallowing back the sting of angry tears. “My intentions is to not think about my mom or my life back in the city. Not be labeled as some harlot.”

“I know. Trust me, I know better than most here how cruel these people can be.” His voice was quieter when he said this, the same hand patting your knee squeezed. “But don’t stop doing what you been doing. Keep your head high and just ignore the talk.” He then stands and turns to you with a crooked smile, showing off a long canine, “They’re all just bored bastards anyways. It won’t be long until they are bored over this and onto the next target.”

“Can’t they already be done with it,” You sigh, knowing that by the look on his face that your break was over and he was waiting for you to come with him. Standing, you smoothed out your light pink dress uniform before following him in.

“One can only wish,” Mingyu chuckled, opening the back door for you.

You didn’t expect to run into Seungcheol again so soon, or at the post office of all places. You were already in line to get stamps when he stepped into it behind you, holding a piece of mail he was sending off, and there was a shift in the air. His eyes moving to your back while you continued to look forward, clutching your wallet to your chest, counting to see how many people were in front of you.

Four. With one elderly clerk that was working at a snail’s pace.

Why was this post office so busy for a small town? And why did it have to be right then?

“We’re going to be here a while. Mr. Han likes to take his time on top of already being slow moving,” You could hear him say to you quietly, but you didn’t look back to him. Instead you took a slow inhale through your nose before licking your lips, trying your best to ignore him. Last thing you wanted was more fuel to the fire that rumor created. Then he spoke again, “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Of course, you are,” You muttered to yourself, but he heard it. Though it wasn’t like you didn’t mean for him to though.

“I am sorry.” He said again, and you were happy that he couldn’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course, he is. They always are when they’re caught, even if they aren’t the ones getting the shit end of it all. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues. We didn’t like that you were drinking alone and wanted to make friends.”

“Friends… yeah, that’s totally what ended up happening,” You let out a scoff, but you knew that he wasn’t the one who started or twisted the rumor and it included him. You felt bad for that, but he was the one who had gotten close to you, the one who sought you out with his friend, he was the one who didn’t tell you that he was seeing someone. Whether he had meant to or not, you were the punished one. 

“Y/N.” That was when you turned to look at him, trying to keep your features neutral unlike his. His thick brows knitted tight, with a deep frown playing over his features, his dark eyes swirling with annoyance and hurt. You knew it wasn’t exactly directed toward you, but you didn’t factor it out. The one thing you were certain that was directed toward you was the underlying concern in them.

The clerk finally called the next person, and you turned to shuffle forward.

“I’m serious.” He said softly, but you didn’t bother looking back again and kept your eyes forward. Your fingers tightening around your wallet and cardigan. “Is there a way I can make this up to you?”

You didn’t answer him, ignoring him rather than engaging any further with him. It didn’t matter if he tried to make up for this, it would only make things worse. Any interactions you had up until this point had been soured since Mingyu came to you, and any after now. Which sucked because you liked being around him, but maybe it was better this way.

Seungcheol must have gotten the hint because he stopped trying to talk to you and stood behind you with a heavy wave of frustration radiating off him. It made you shift on your feet uncomfortably, wondering if anyone else here could feel it, but you refused to look back. You didn’t want to give him more of a chance to talk to you, nor did you want to see the look on his face.

After another ten agonizing minutes, it was finally your turn to get your stamps and left without giving Seungcheol another glance. The only time you looked over your shoulder was once you were out of the small post office, catching him through the window, talking to the elderly clerk with a wide smile.

Disappointment heavy on your shoulders that you still wished to be a subject of that smile despite it all.

After watching you drive away that night, Seungcheol sat in his truck until he had no other choice but to drive home. His eyes stayed on the empty space where your old Buick had been, and where he had said goodnight to you. With his mind replaying that night over and over.

“Isn’t that the new girl?” He remembered Jeonghan asking this, his eyes flicking past him and made him look over his shoulder. To see you sitting alone in one of the booths, your wide eyes on him with a look of surprise. It actually nearly made him smile with how cute you were looking. Then Jeonghan had burst into laughter right when you looked down to your drink. “She’s been checking you out, and she’s all alone too. Go talk to her.”

While the other man ended up taking over, leaning heavily into being a wingman when he shouldn’t have, Seungcheol was happy that he did approach you. If he hadn’t, he doubt he would get to see that you were more than just shy and to yourself. You were sweet, funny, with a warm smile and a giggle that made him willing to do anything just to keep them in his direction. To learn more about you.

He hadn’t liked that Jeonghan had made you uncomfortable with his questions, stepping in to stop it from going any further. He remembered that you looked grateful when he had, that someone’s in your corner and didn’t want to trap you in it. It made him feel good to see this, with it being a while since he felt this way over someone.

Leaning his face into his hand, Seungcheol could still smell the sweetness of either your perfume or shampoo when he was showing you how to play pool. He could still hear the soft hitch in your breath when he had leaned over you to help you, something he had done plenty of times in the past, but there was something about being in your space, smelling how sweet you were, and your reaction that made it feel different for him.

He wasn’t sure about the stirring in his chest as he continued to sit and think about you. Your style, the way you were yourself, how beautiful and attractive he thought you were. All of this was dangerous to him. He was a man who had things planned out already, working hard to have the home he always wanted, to be able to live without naught, and already had someone in mind to share that life with.

And here you are, coming in and making him question if he really was right with choosing to pursue Danni. If maybe he had gotten it wrong after all.

No, it was just because you were new. A new face in a sea of faces that he would see every day, you were fresh and something he wasn’t used to. He hoped that this feeling would fade, and once it does, you could be a good friend for him. Except that still didn’t stop him from thinking about you the entire drive home.

That was as far as this town would allow him to get before it made the choice for him.

Words and rumors in this town spread like wildfire, so really this was no different. Whoever was at the bar that night had to of only seen the two of you playing pool and taken it wrong because neither of you were cozied up with each other. Hell, Jeonghan was hanging off him more and being all cozy with him, so one needed to be a dumb mother fucker to confuse his and your height and build. Or so drunk that they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between their asshole and a hole in the ground.

For Seungcheol, the most he had to face was the wrath of Danni since he didn’t give a single shit what anyone else said in this town. Their opinions didn’t affect how he was treated by them, nor did it effect his business since he wasn’t the actual target. You were.

You were the one who was facing the towns judgement and distrust. All because a drunken fool wanted to run their mouth.

When he saw you again, he couldn’t blame you for the way you acted toward him. Refusing to give him the time of day, walking away from him when all he wanted was to make things right, choosing to protect yourself instead of letting him in. Except he couldn’t deny that it still hurt, to watch you build a wall before he could even find solid ground. So much so it soured his mood for the rest of the day, and it was felt all around.

He didn’t like that this emotion was being pulled out of him because of you as well. He didn’t like that he barely knew you and you already took over his thoughts and emotions.

The next time he saw you was a nearly a week later at the diner. You were working that night, busy with several tables that you hadn’t noticed him coming in. Or the woman at his side, with her hand resting possessively on his bicep as her own eyes looked around, but your back turned when she looked your way. She was making it quite obvious that she was looking for someone.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling started to build inside, a turning in his stomach as it slowly dawned on him what was happening here. Danni had been insistent that they go out that night, have a bit of a date night. Movie and a late night dinner at the diner was what she wanted, and well, he wanted to give it to her.  She was who he had intended to spend his life with, so he wanted to give her anything she wanted.

Except, he started to think that she didn’t actually want to come here for a late dinner date or sit through that shitty movie she chose. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from you, smiling and laughing with a set of teenagers you were serving, to look toward Danni. Who had caught sight of you… and the empty table in your section.

“There is a free table right there, Cheollie,” The sugary sweet tone she was putting on was aggravating to him, now that he realized the real reason they were there. Danni acted like she didn’t notice as she pulled him to the booth, her grip on his arm tightened.

He almost didn’t go with her, let her drag him to the empty booth, instead wanting to drag her out of the diner. Demand what she was trying to accomplish by bringing him there while you’re working and tell her how childish she was acting when you had made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Except he knew this was a test for him too.

Both her and the people watching them looking for anything to make things worse. And if he failed, you would be the one to blame.

Seungcheol didn’t care what they thought with him, he never did. He did care what judgement they had toward you, without you even knowing what you were being judged further for. Not when all you were doing was trying to find your place in this town that only had a small few welcoming you.

Slipping into the booth, Danni made sure to sit on the side that faced where you were checking on another table, receiving glares instead of a response. A smirk stretched over her pink glossed lips, flipping her long sleek hair over her shoulder before reaching out for him. A gesture that Seungcheol didn’t return, with his jaw still set tight, a frown gracing his features, and crossed arms.

She knew that he was pissed, she knew that he was onto her, but the way her eyes kept flicking over his shoulder told him she didn’t care. She was making a statement, and one that she was not going to like the outcome of.

“Good evening! My name is Y/N, I will be your server tonight.” You spoke up, stopping in front of the table, a bright smile playing over your lips. Except Seungcheol could see that it didn’t meet your eyes, and that you were refusing to look at him more than you needed to. Setting the menus down in front of them both, you pulled out your notepad to take their drink orders, “Should we get started with some drinks while you decide?”

“That would be so lovely!” Danni responded to you with her own smile, only hers was more menacing while she looked you over. Sizing you up from what it looks like, “I’ll take a sweet, iced tea, easy on the ice.” You nodded, writing down it down. Still not looking at him, “What about you Cheollie?”

“I’ll have the root beer, and we can order our meals now. We know what we want,” He said flatly, making you look up at him in surprise. Catching the way his eyes flashed toward Danni, his annoyance nearly palpable among the three of you. “I’ll take the number seven, medium well patty and cheese. I’ll also have the fries instead of the potato salad.”

“Coming right up, and for you Miss?” You nodded, writing down his order quickly and looked to Danni, who had been watching the two of you. Trying to catch you two in some act right in front of her. She was really pissing him off doing this.

“I’ll take number ten, the clam chowder, and could you ask Seokmin to put the oyster crackers in the soup for me instead of on the side? Thank you so much.” She rattled off quickly, almost too quickly and you nearly missed her added request.

“Alright, so I have the number seven with a medium well patty, cheese, and fries instead of the potato salad. Along with a root beer for you.” You repeated calmly, not showing that Danni’s antics was phasing you, barely looking up from your notepad. “And for you the number ten, with the oyster crackers in the soup and not on the side. As well as the sweet, iced tea with easy ice and forgive me, did you want the lemon on the side or in the drink?”

“On the side.” Seungcheol watched with brief satisfaction as Danni’s lip curled in annoyance, her voice not sickening sweet as it was. With another nod, you give both of them a smile.

“I’ll get that put in now and be back with your drinks in a moment.” And with that, you walked away to put in the ticket. Seungcheol didn’t dare look your way, not when he was being watched by others around them. Danni instead was practically breaking her neck to watch you go.

“Ugh, I can’t stand her.” Danni scoffed in disgust, twisting back in her seat and crossing her arms like a brat, the jingle of her bracelets could be heard over the chatter around them. She didn’t seem to notice or care that Seungcheol was staring her down pissed. “Can she be anymore pretentious? Acting like she’s better than me.”

“She was just doing her job, and you don’t even know her,” Seungcheol snapped, making her look at him, her golden brown eyes staring him down. “How many times do I have to tell you that nothing happened? We invited her to play pool and drink with us. You and the rest of this god forsaken town make it seem like we fucked on the pool table.”

“Seungcheol!” She gasped, looking around as if she was making sure no one heard him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s impolite and immature.”

“And what you were just doing wasn’t?” He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low enough that it stayed between them both. His eyes stared her down, watching the way she shrunk slightly before straightening up. A frown playing over her pretty face.

“Listen, all I am doing is make sure she knows I exist and think next time she even wants to look twice at you,” There was so much conviction in her voice, with an eye roll that would back it up. “Let her know that you got someone prettier, more put together, and doesn’t look like they pulled their clothes out of a dumpster. Not some unwelcomed slut.”

“Danni, that’s enough.” Seungcheol could feel his anger started to get the better of him, his eyes piercing through someone he thought he could fall in love with and have a life with. You didn’t even give him the time of day, and here she was tearing you apart like you both were still making eyes at each other. “You don’t talk about her like that, and you sure as hell won’t call her names. I don’t give a shit what that makes you think of me, but you aren’t going to punish her for no damn reason.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Here is your drinks,” Mingyu spoke up, setting down both glasses along with a straw each, this made the couple look at him in confusion. You were their server, “Y/N needed to go on break, so I will be taking over your table. Your food will be ready soon.”

Seungcheol snapped his face toward Danni, who was fighting the triumphant grin threatening to break through. He sure as hell hoped it was actually your break and not because you heard what she had said. But from the frown on Mingyu’s face, the sickening turn in his stomach, and how you didn’t return as their server once back, that was the case.

It made him unable to eat his meal. Everything feeling so wrong and cruel, and he unable get out of his head the way you wouldn’t look his way at all. 

Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Danni when he dropped her off to her place, not even acknowledging the kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth. His eyes still forward, with his blood running hot, and his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Failing to not appear as tense as he was.

“Call me later, baby. Goodnight.” Danni called out before closing the door, either oblivious of his anger or she simply did not care. To her, she won that night.

Once he was she got in, Seungcheol put the truck into drive and pressed on the gas. His tires squealed against the asphalt as he u-turned on the quiet street, followed by a roar of his engine as he sped off.

He needed to clear his head. Needed to rethink everything.

The sky darker than usual, rain clouds starting to gather as he sped through the empty roads. Passed the mixture of houses and thick trees, passed the dirt road that lead to his own place, and into the small quiet town. He did no clearing of the mind as he drove, the streets starting to grow dark except for a few streetlights, and the porch lights of the houses in town. It was late, people were sleeping and probably being woken by the sound of his truck.

He didn’t realize he was driving to the diner until he pulled into the near empty parking lot. The only vehicles there were Seokmin’s bright yellow Beetle, Mingyu’s red Suburban, and your black Buick. He could see through the windows the tables empty, which was a strange sight to see when there was normally always someone there eating, and Mingyu animatedly talking to someone as he wiped down tables. Not bothering to look out the window at the approaching truck.

Turning off the headlights, Seungcheol parked his truck at the farthest end of the lot where it was harder to see anything inside. He leaned back into his seat, running his hand through his hair, once styled to look nice now sticking up everywhere, watching the diner. Contemplating on going in to ask to speak to you.

He was friends with Seokmin and Mingyu, knowing both when they were pushing each other in the mud as kids, so he trusted that they wouldn’t say anything. He’d be able to apologize for Danni’s actions, once more ask for your forgiveness. Be able to talk to you and maybe get you to see that he truly didn’t intend for things to get so messed up.

It was like fate though, that before he made the choice to go inside, the back door opened and you emerged. Carrying a large trash bag, laughing loudly as you yelled something back inside, and a genuine smile playing over your lips. Brightening your face in a way that made his mouth to drop in awe, and his heart flutter. Seungcheol craved to be the reason behind it.

“Y/N!” He called out as he got out of the truck and walked toward you, making you nearly jump out of your skin and fling the trash bag toward him. It didn’t land far from you, and Seungcheol stopped short. Both of you looking at the bag in confusion. It was you who recovered first and picked it up.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that there wasn’t any tears in the bag before tossing it into the dumpster. “Besides trying to scare me to death.”

“I.. sorry about that,” he let out a nervous chuckle, the corner of his lip upturned slightly. “I… I came to talk to you. To apologize…”

“For your girlfriend saying I pull my clothes out of the dumpster? Or that she’s prettier than me? That she’s more well off than I am? That I am some unwelcomed slut?” You finish for him, finally looking his way. Your bright smile dropping to a sardonic one, turning toward him as your arms crossed. “It might be hard to believe, but I actually don’t give a shit what she has to say about me. Or anyone else in this town for that matter.”

“Still, it wasn’t right.”

“So, you are going to make it right, is that what you are going to do?” You let out a laugh, “I don’t need you to do that, because it’s not your place to make it right.” You hold your hand up to stop him from saying anything. Seungcheol had opened his mouth to argue back but stopped so easily for you. “Just leave it be, Cheol. It sucks, yeah, but sometimes words can only go so deep. And if you only knew, you would understand what I mean by that.”

“Please, I know I can make this right.”

“By what?” There is a sudden waver in your voice, a hitch in your throat. You held onto your smile, though he had achingly watched it change from one that could brightened his day, to a sad one that you were wearing now. “By apologizing for her and the town? To get me to look at you again? I am no one, Seungcheol. Just a lost soul who is trying to find their way in life again.”

The back door then opened to Seokmin, looking out for you with concern. That concern didn’t ease when he saw Seungcheol standing there either.

“Maybe, in another lifetime, things would have worked out differently,” You tell him, walking away before he could reach to stop you. Stopping at the door where Seokmin was still standing, you gave Seungcheol one last smile. Bright, and beautiful but oh so terribly sad. “If you want to make things right, then do it by letting it all go.”

Then you were gone.

**May**

The little town of Diamond Ridge was a mixture of beautiful clear weather and rainy days from April through May. The rain making the surrounding trees and plant life flourish, with everything greener, brighter, and nourished. It made you not regret stopping here after a long drive with your cat, nor regret walking into the diner to ask Mingyu if he knew anywhere you could rent.

So much so that you found yourself going out more no matter what the weather was. Taking trips to the market, visiting the library, explore the trails behind the diner, and stroll through the small park in town. The stares had died down, with only a few still doing it, helping to ease the anxiety you felt. You may not give a shit what these people thought or said, but you sure as hell didn’t like being stared at like you were.

“The Outsiders, huh?” A voice asked next to you while you were looking over the movie box, considered renting it. You found yourself at a small movie rental shop near Cheers and had been browsing the movie selections when the voice had approached.

Looking in his direction, you were met with a younger man standing next to you, his brown eyes looking down at the movie in your hand. He was tall, with high cheek bones that were emphasized by the grey beanie that he was wearing, and his outfit was just a simple pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Around those eyes were some of the prettiest lashes and eyebrows you had ever seen on anyone, and had to tell yourself to not be jealous, though you really were.

“Ye…yeah… it’s one of my favorites.” You started to stutter out but managed to find your voice, handing over the movie without thinking. Letting the stranger take it from you, to look over the covering. “Was just trying to decide if I wanted to watch it again. If you want to rent it, go ahead, I seen it plenty of times.”

“While I appreciate that, I actually work here and I have a copy of my own.” He let out a soft chuckle, but still flipping the box cover around to read the back.

“Oh,” You answer, feeling your face grow warm with embarrassment.

“You have good taste,” He commented nodding, handing it back to you with a smile, “I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N…” You respond, taking the movie back and braced yourself for the same reaction you always got. Except all Vernon did was nod and repeat it out loud.

“You’re the one who moved into the apartment above the diner, right?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty jealous. That place is such a good spot. Spacious, right above the diner and don’t even need to cook if you don’t want to. And you work there, so that’s even better, don’t have to waste the gas.”

“It can be, but the downfall is that if I want to call out, I have Mingyu at my door. Either calling my bluff or trying to force feed me soup. He told me that when he agreed to give me the place and the job.” You point out, and Vernon chuckled again. He had a nice laugh, and he didn’t look at you like everyone else did. It reminded you a bit of Seungcheol, since he didn’t look at you like an outcast either.

“Yeah, I can believe it. He’s always been that way.”

“Everyone really seems to know each other here.” You mumble, more to yourself but he had heard you.

“Well, we all grew up together, and it’s not every day we get someone new moving here. I think the last people to move here was my friend Josh and his mom when we were teens.” Vernon then pointed toward the movie, “You ready to check out? I can get you hooked up with the employee rental discount… and my number if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Sweet.”

Vernon was great. He was easy going, loved a good movie or a good album, polite, gorgeous, and most of all, single. It was nice to have someone other than Mingyu and Seokmin to talk to, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Vernon.

He also liked you. Taking you out or coming by with a stack of movies to binge. He listened to you when you talked, didn’t care or believed the rumors that were started over you. Stating that he didn’t see you the way they painted you and knew Seungcheol wasn’t that kind of guy. Giving you empathy when others didn’t.

Vernon also knew that you liked him, but not that way. He knew that you wanted to, even sharing a few heated kisses during a few hang outs, but something was holding you back. Except that it wasn’t something, it was someone. Someone you couldn’t have or think about.

Vernon was great, but he wasn’t Seungcheol.

You hated that you were still thinking about him after everything. That you were still thinking about how, besides Mingyu and Seokmin, Seungcheol was the first to welcome you to this town. You hated that you wanted to be back in the cross path of his kind eyes, be the reason for a smile over his lips, and be close to him the same way you were that night at the bar. It didn’t matter that the rumors and gossip ruined it, you still found yourself wanting to go back again.

But you couldn’t. Seungcheol and you were not meant to be. He was taken, he had someone already in his life, and you were left wishing that it was all different. Stupid on your part really, to wish that you could go back so that you can explore that what if in your head, when the results would be the same. Maybe they would be even worse, because no matter what. He was spoken for and you’d be what the town thought.

“Movie night this Friday?” Vernon asked through the receiver, “We just got this new movie in, The Little Rascals. I actually saw it in theaters. It’s a pretty cute film.”

“That movie should work, be a lot better than the movie from the other night,” You nodded as if the younger man could see you through the phone. One hand holding the thick white plastic house phone, while the other gently scratched the top of Max’s head. His chubby tabby body curled up next to you, purring softly as your scratches lulled him into a sleep.

“Listen, I thought since you liked Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club that you would like St. Elmo’s Fire. It had the brat pack!” Vernon defended his movie choice, making you both start to laugh.

“I mean the movie wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either.” You pointed out, before sighing, “I’m gonna let you go. It’s my day off and I haven’t done shit on my to do list because you’re distracting me.”

“I will not take responsibility for your bad choices, Y/N.” He quipped.

“We literally been on the phone for the last two hours, and if I am not mistaken, you’re working.”

“I don’t see how that’s important here, because unlike you, I been productive. I put a movie away.” The two of you burst into laughter at this, then he gasps, “Oh shit, before I let you go. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Cheol officially ended things with Danni. I think it happened last week after not talking to her for like… I don’t know, I just know that they aren’t a thing anymore.” Vernon chattered off, and your brows seemed to furrow. Why was he telling you this?

“Uh, no. I haven’t,” You said slowly, before a familiar uncomfortable feeling started to bubble inside. “I’m not being blamed for it this time, am I?”

“Cheol finally realized that she was a bitch and a terrible person, and him settling down with her wouldn’t change that.” You could picture Vernon shrugging before he spoke again. “And uh.. yeah you’re kind of to be blamed too.” You went to protest before he cut you off, “But… just hear him out. Don’t close the door.”

“What…” Lightening flashed through the sky as a click could be heard on the other end of the line. You stared at the phone with pure confusion, Max tossing his head back to get you to start petting him again. “Weirdo.”

The knock came about twenty minutes later, when you had put a load of clothes into the old washer that came with the place. You weren’t expecting anyone, not that anyone would come see you, and Mingyu would call you if he needed something. Respecting your space by not being an overbearing landlord. Not to mention, the rain was now coming down like sheets, so whoever was out there had to be insane.

What Vernon said before hanging up made sense when you opened the door, because standing before you was Seungcheol. His blond hair wet from the pouring rain, sticking to his forehead as he stood there. His white button up sticking to his frame with a few buttons undone down to his chest, and blue jeans darkened. Droplets sliding down his handsome features, his gaze fixated on you.

Soft, worried, scared, but hopeful. It made your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat.

“I been standing out here for the last twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock,” He yelled so that the rain didn’t drown his words out. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, words escaping you. “From the moment I saw you, there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head, and I didn’t know what that meant. Until the night at the bar, when we played pool…” He took a breath before continuing, taking your silence as a chance to say what he wanted to say. “I am still so sorry about what happened after, and this sounds so fucked up, but I wish nothing more for that rumor to have been true… I wanted to kiss you at your car that night, I wanted to hear that little sound from the pool table again. Over and over.

You moving into town made me realize that I was settling with Danni. Thought she was going to be enough, but how could she be when you were the only thing on my mind? You take over my every waking thought, and you invade my dreams at night.” Your mind was buzzing as he continued to speak, unable to move or speak. “I have no idea what the future holds, but I knew that I would regret every day if I married her when I didn’t love her. I would regret not finding out what could have been with you…”

You didn’t let him continue, stepping out onto the patio to join him in the rain. Cupping his cheeks to pull his face to yours. The moment that your lips met, it was like the cold spring rain warmed, and every part of you was coming to life. His full lips felt slightly chapped, but still soft and even better than you had imagined.

Seungcheol didn’t react for a moment, taken off guard at your sudden action, before his body physically relaxed and returned your kiss. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flushed against his frame, his muscles firm under the soaked material and softness of his skin. He felt hot under your touch, running the tip of his tongue over the bottom of your lip, begging for more of you. Which you welcomed, now that you have finally tasted him, desperate for more.

He took over your every sense, after weeks of fighting the yearning feeling for him you let it win. Shattering the moment his tongue met yours, and all you could think about was him, Seungcheol. You needed him to keep touching you, needing to make up for the weeks of thinking about that small moment. To find out what this all meant. You knew you couldn’t stop as his own kiss grew desperate too.

Seungcheol needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, but there was no point in trying to play who needed it more. The point was that you both needed this, you both couldn’t keep pretending.

Slowly moving his hands from your waist, running them over the curve of your ass before grasping at your thighs to pull you up. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth when he lifted you, hooking your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist to brace yourself. His thick hands having a firm hold on you, letting your own hold around his neck loosen to push your fingers through his short hair. The strands still soaked from the rain, while you were no better off. Your own hair wet, sticking to your skin, and your clothes already soaked themselves.

Neither of you gave a shit though.

You couldn’t pull away from his mouth, not caring the need to breathe, so you didn’t notice that he had carried you back inside. You barely registered that you were no longer being pelted with rain in your make out and now in the warmth of your apartment. Nothing around you mattered except Seungcheol.

“No… no…” You gasped out the words when he pulled away, though your lung thanked the sudden rush of air to them. Both your lips were red, swollen, and wet from your kiss.

When he looked at you, it was with different eyes. Lids heavy, pupils blown out giving way to darkened swirls. The emotions that were etched in them earlier gone and replaced was a deep desire. A want that sent a fire through your body and settling in your core.

“Y/N…” If the way he was looking at you didn’t do you in, it was the way his voice came out in a deep rasp, heavy breaths to find the air you took from his lungs. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his as your fingers clung to his hair. Unable to hold back from kissing him again.

“Please…” You whispered against his lips, hoping that a simple sentence would tell him everything you were feeling in those moments. Everything you had been feeling over the weeks.

He was the key to turn you back on, the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and now that you had him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

You needed him. And you knew he needed you.

“Where’s your bed?” It was his only response, and every part of you now burning with need. The water on your skin drying from the heat of your skin.

You allowed him to pull away enough to watch where you gestured toward the full on the opposite end of the apartment. The dark bedding still a mess from when you woke that morning, not thinking about making it. His gaze followed your hand before nodding, taking long strides to your bed. While you took the liberties to kiss down his jaw to his neck, nipping gently at the skin before soothing it with a kiss.

Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the mattress as he laid you down, the weight of his body pressing down on you. Centering while the hard bulge in his pants threw you off kilter. Your patience growing thinner, ready to snap if you didn’t get to have more of him, but he was feeling the same.

First thing off was the wet button up of his, with you watching the way it peeled off his muscular frame. Letting you see those strong arms and shoulders of his, leading to thick pecks and a firm stomach. You caught the sight of a light trail of hair from his belly button leading under the waistband of his jeans. He only took off his shirt, and you were already clenching around nothing.

Next off was the green tank top you were wearing, peeling off the damp fabric to reveal what he was suspecting. You weren’t wearing a bra, making Seungcheol stop since he couldn’t tear his gaze from the swells and nipples hardened into peaks. Taking in the way they moved under your labored breath.

He kissed you again. This time slower, gentler, and nothing like how it was few minutes earlier. His lips molding against yours so well, already memorizing how you liked to be kissed; with his tongue sweeping over yours. You were on him, tracing up his back and felt the muscles from years of hard labor.

Moving his plush lips from yours to kiss over your jaw and neck. Planting slow open mouthed kisses across your skin, letting his tongue taste the salt on your skin while soothing any bites he delivered. A small whimper accompanied your rushed breathing, nails now running across his shoulders through his descent.

Seungcheol made sure to kiss over your collarbone, leaving reminders of him at the curve where it met your neck. Your back then arched when a rough calloused hand cupped one of your breasts, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bud as his mouth found the other.

“Fuck…” You whimpered at the contact, your thighs squeezing and hips rolling against his. A groan escaped him as he sucked and teased one breast while his hand made sure the other had attention before switching. Your own hands moving from his back to his hair once more.

Seungcheol snaked his free hand down to the button of your jean shorts, undoing it before pulling the zipper down. Just to free from slipping into them, under your underwear, and detached his mouth from your nipple now wet from his saliva, to look at you.

“Are you sure? We can wait…” He spoke softly, searching your eyes for any hesitation but you were never surer than you were then.

“I’m tired of waiting…Please Cheol…”

It was all he needed to hear, mouth finding yours while his hand slipped into your shorts and underwear. His finger brushed against your soaked folds, earning moans from you both. You completely surrendered to him.

His hands teased you as he left more reminds on your skin, the aching spots feeling like heaven, with the way his lips attempted to memorize the softness of your skin and the curves of your body. Your shorts and underwear were discarded soon after, legs spread open by his shoulders, leaving you naked and bare for him.

You thought you saw stars when his mouth attached itself to your cunt, his eyes rolling at the first taste of you and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you there, not holding back. Licking and eating you as if starved, his tongue learning every inch of you as he drank the arousal that was dropping from you. When he slipped a thick finger inside, the groan that left him vibrated through your body. Feeling your gummy walls grip at his finger tightly, making him rut into your mattress. The springs squeaking under the roll of his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” You heard him say, muffled because he couldn’t tear himself away to speak properly. Growing addicted to the way you tasted, felt, and the little sounds leaving you. Better than the one from that night.

Adding another finger, he curved them just right, making you shatter. Your whole body vibrating as his name echoed from your lips, a chant as he drank all you gave. His lips and chin glistening with you when he finally pulled away, looking up with a fucked out face that rivaled yours. The sound of the bed moving from his ruts met your ringing ears, making you think about how hard he had to be. Making you clench around his fingers, bringing a smirk to those shiny lips.

“You still want more?” He asked teasingly, moving the digits inside you at a slower pace, unable to stop himself from latching onto your clit again. His eyes looking at you from between your legs, drunk on you. The time it felt like he was prepping you, stretching your tightness to accommodate him.

You both knew where this was heading, and neither of you wanted to stop.

Seungcheol drew another orgasm from you before finally moving the last of his clothes, the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor. Leaving him standing there in front of you, completely bare and on display for you. His thick cock hard, precum leaking and smeared over his tip. It looked bigger than it felt in his pants, and you couldn’t stop from salivating at the sight.

You needed it in you.

When he joined you on the bed once more, going slow with his movement and watched for any signs of you backing out. He wanted to make sure because he knew he would never want to be without you again. Only there was no signs of doubt, your eyes heavy with need and want, especially because of the sureness in his.

Settling back between your legs, his cock brushed against your cunt, collecting your arousal against the underside of it. It made you both shutter, with you grinding your hips for more. With one hand braced next to your head, Seungcheol planted a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself while his other slipped between you.

Grasping his cock to line himself up with you.

“Ready?” He rasped out, pressing his forehead against yours while his other head pressed against your entrance. You nod quickly, wrapping yourself around him. Completely his. “Look at me.”

You didn’t know you closed your eyes until you opened them, both of you watching the other’s reaction when he pushed in. The stretch made your mouth fall open with a high pitch gasp while a string of curses left his. Your walls gripped at him when he thrusted forward, filling you to the hilt.

“Cheol…” You managed to get out, your body shaking as you got used to his size, feeling bigger now that he was in you.

“Yes, baby?” He grunted out, every part of him stopping himself from fucking you like he wanted. It was hard since you squeezed him so snuggly, wrapping around him like you were made for him.

“Fuck me..” It was all he needed to hear, pulling his cock halfway before thrusting back into you. Unleashing something inside both of you, your wanton cries echoed against the walls of the apartment, mixing with the sounds of his own moans and the slapping of skin against skin.

Your nails racked down his back, trying to meet his every thrust but couldn’t with how you were spread out. Leaving you to his mercy and the build that was starting to grow again with every drag of his cock against your walls. Close to a third release.

Seungcheol’s mouth was all over you, over the column of your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts. Causing your back to arched when he took a nipple into his mouth, one hand holding onto the fatty flesh with the other found purchase between your legs. His fingertips brushing where you two met, feeling the slickness of your arousal and his precum mixed, before finding your clit.

He was not going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way you were covering him and gripping at him like a vice. But he refused to until he drew a third orgasm from you. He needed it before his own release.

“Cheol…” You cried out, your hands reaching to grab anything to anchor you as the knot in your core started to snap. His hair, your own hair, the bedding, your breasts, his biceps, nails leaving red scratches over his body where you grabbed and scratched at him.

“Cum for me, Y/N… I’m not far off…” He groaned out, keeping his gaze on you, his cock and fingers helping you let go.

His own released chased after yours, unable to hold out from the way you spasmed and squeezed around him, making it impossible to pull out, or want to. Releasing ropes of his cum inside your inner walls, Seungcheol buried his face into his neck as he did. Groaning and whimpering as he filled you.

Leaving you full of him after he finally pulls out.

Both of you refused to let go of the other or separated until you couldn’t stay connected any longer.

“Do you want to know why I moved her?” You asked, your fingertips tracing the olive tree tattoo on his back, making him turn his head in your direction.

“If you want to tell me.” He said softly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you, the sound of your voice, the soft tracing of your fingers. and the pattering rain outside lulling him into a light doze.

“My mom died last summer,” You started, pain lacing through your words, but you didn’t stop, “Then my old landlord decided to evict me by changing the locks and locking me out of my own apartment. I ended up having to break in to get Max and anything I could carry and put in my car. Then I left, drove until I came upon this town and the diner,” You took a deep breath, swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, “Max couldn’t be in that small carrier much longer, while I was just tired and starving. Neither of us could keep going like that, so I took my chances by asking Mingyu for a job and where I can find a place to live.”

Seungcheol rolled over, so he was now on his back before he reached for you. Pulling you into his arms and let you rest your head against his chest, feeling a stray tear hit his chest.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” He said softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Your own arms now tight around his waist. Holding onto him like he was your anchor to this world. “This town probably didn’t help though.”

“Words are nothing,” You say, turning your head to look at him, only to see he was watching you. His hair sticking up in different directions from your hands, lips well kissed, and so fucking beautiful. “I’ve head worse over the years from a bunch of assholes in the scene I was in. I could have let them take me down, let them hinder me trying to move on, let them break me, but my mom taught me better than that. Only words and opinions that should matter are my own.”

“So, you don’t regret moving here?” He asked, and you smile.

“No, in fact, you make me want to stay more. Be able to call this place home.” With that, you adjusted yourself to kiss him. One that he returned eagerly.

Thank you for reading!! I do hope you enjoyed and I hope I did our Coupsie justice.

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to kno I am doing well!

Please also go show love to the rest of the fics of this collabs when they are posted!

<3

[nothoughtsjustfic]

A Daydream Away - K.SJ

👨‍🏫Who: Kim Seokjin (BTS) x female reader 👨‍🏫What: Smut (18+). University au. Teacher Seokjin x student Reader. 👨‍🏫Word count: 6.5k 👨‍🏫Warnings: Power imbalance (in that he’s her teacher). Ages aren’t specified exactly, but it’s said that Seokjin is barely a few years older than the majority of the students. Profanity. Kissing. Dom Seokjin. Sub Reader. A single spank. Grinding. Fingering (female receiving). Oral (male receiving). PIV sex. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Cum swallowing. Praise. Seokjin calls reader: little one, baby, good girl. Reader calls Seokjin: Sir. I think that’s it! 👨‍🏫Summary:

The problem with having such an attractive teacher is that it’s hard to focus on anything but your dirty fantasies starring him. Though, maybe it’s not such a bad thing when he has you stay behind one day after class, and he finds out exactly what’s been keeping you distracted for the past months.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I decided to entirely rewrite it move it over to here.

Usually, you’re a pretty good student; you rarely get in trouble, and even then it’s only for forgetting to complete work at home. Your grades are always passes at the lowest; you’re not the top student, but you’re certainly in the top section of every class you take.

Except for the one taught by Mr. Kim Seokjin.

Now, Seokjin isn’t a bad teacher, not at all; he’s incredibly smart in his subject, and all of his students tend to pass. All except you. It’s nothing against Seokjin, you think he’s a brilliant teacher, and you love attending his classes.

The problem is that he’s too fucking attractive. You spend more time ogling his handsome features and broad shoulders than paying attention to the topic; fantasising about how it’d feel to have your legs hooked over them as he pounds harshly in–

You’re snapped from yet another daydream staring Kim Seokjin, by the man himself as he calls your name firmly. You can’t clear your mind of the aroused fog it’s in fast enough to even attempt to give him a sheepish smile, embarrassed about once again getting caught with your head in the clouds during his class. “Can you at least pretend to pay attention for once?” he scolds, giving you a stern, disapproving look.

“Sorry,” you mumble, tongue flicking out to wet your suddenly dry lips. You could swear that Seokjin’s eyes follow the movement of your tongue as it peeks out. But can your horny mind be trusted to see things correctly right now? Not really.

“Hm, right; you say that every time,” he returns, scoffing in disbelief as he puts his hands on his hips. “Stay after class,” he demands, and you can only nod meekly; his dominant aura making your thighs clench. The sign of agreement satisfies Seokjin enough to allow him to return to his teaching, believing that he has your attention, at least for the remaining twenty minutes of class. Oh, how wrong he is.

The moment that Seokjin’s attention is back on everyone but you, your mind is already slipping back into your fantasies, his demand for you to stay behind only fuelling your dirty thoughts. Seokjin is known throughout the university for letting his students out of class early, he never asks anyone to stay behind. He isn’t much older than the majority of the students, so he remembers how tough university was, and he doesn’t want to give anyone extra stress by being forced to stay after class. So, the fact he’s told you to stay behind, well, you think you can be forgiven for letting your mind run away with that thought.

If only he knew the images of him you hold in your mind, he certainly wouldn’t want to encourage it by keeping you behind. What teacher would?

Only minutes after returning to his lecture, Seokjin’s eyes happen to glance over to you, and he can’t help but sigh as he spots the glassed-over look in your eyes, telling him that you’re already away with the fairies.

He hasn’t the faintest idea why you struggle to pay attention in his class. He worries that he bores you, so he’s tried to move around the room more; has brought in more hands-on activities to keep you, in particular, focused.

You’re the only student failing his class and he doesn’t understand why. He’s paid you so much attention, left you notes with tips on studying and websites for extra information. During class, without fail, he always places a copy of the lessons notes— his personal notes— on your desk in front of you; but you either ignore them entirely or push them into your bag mindlessly at the end of class with your own papers without even looking at them. He always sees masses of paper sticking out of your notebook every class, but they never seem to move.

He can’t help but wonder if you even look at the worksheets he’s spent so long making specifically for you. He even had a friend teach him how to draw the characters he’s seen on your clothing and accessories, so that he can doodle them onto the worksheets in hopes of catching your interest. But the worksheets never move, and your grades are getting worse.

To make matters worse, Seokjin knows that you pay attention in literally every class you take and never fail any assignments for any but his. One day, he had searched up your class schedule on the university system and stood outside various classroom doors to peer through the window and watch you, just to see if you have the same issue of losing focus in other classes. You never do.

Seokjin takes your failing and absent mind personally, as if it’s something he’s done to warrant such a response, and he wants to get to the bottom of it. No way will he allow such a capable student to fail yet another term of his class.

Unlike every other day, you don’t come out of the fantasies when Seokjin dismisses class, making your fellow students get up and scramble to leave. The class is already a late one, finishing at 6pm, so all of the students are eager to get out of the university and go about their personal lives.

Seokjin watches you curiously from where he’s leaning against the edge of his desk. Even as other students leave, bigging him goodbye and wishes of a good evening, his eyes don’t leave you despite his mouth moving to return the well wishes.

For a further five minutes after everyone has left, he continues to silently watch you in curious wonder. Though, realising that you’re too deep in your mind to notice that the room is empty other than the two of you, he pushes his body off the furniture to stalk over and stand in front of your desk. For the first time, your eyes follow his movement, yet they’re still glassy, and he knows your mind isn’t with him, even if your sight is.

As he leans down to grip either side of your desk to be closer to eye level with you, he suddenly realises just how pretty you are.

Of course, Seokjin isn’t blind, he can tell when a student is attractive, but that’s it; his mind registers an attractive student in an abstract, off handed kind of way, and that’s where it stops. Despite student-teacher relationships in the university not being against the rules exactly— therefore, not a fireable offense—, they’re still greatly frowned upon. Seokjin knows this, so he’s never once even considered a student in any way but as a student; someone to teach and guide academically.

But standing over you like this; your eyes wide and glossy as you stare up at him, cheeks flushed, and lips parted; for the first time, Seokjin’s mind wanders. He can’t help but think how pretty you’d look spread out by his hands under his body, utterly fucked out.

Before the thought can progress into a fantasy, he shakes his head softly and clears his throat— it’s suddenly too dry considering he had gulped down the contents of his water bottle at the end of class.

The sudden noise breaks you out of your fantasies with a little jolt. Blinking rapidly, your gaze comes back into focus. “Oh,” you breathe out, finding Seokjin so close to you, causing excitement to crawl through your body. You’ve never been so close to the man, and he only looks even more delectable the closer you get. “Mr. Kim.”

He says your name in response, once again clearing his throat when his voice cracks on the syllables. “Are you finished with your daydreaming now?” You suck your bottom lip between your teeth as you nod shyly, embarrassed as per usual about being called out. Without even having the chance to try to stop it from happening, Seokjin’s gaze drops down to eye your mouth, in a way far too obvious to miss.

You watch his throat bob heavily as he swallows thickly while watching your lip slowly slip out from the light grasp of your teeth. “Sir?” you question softly. Your voice sounds so innocent, barely a whisper, and it sends Seokjin’s mind whirling.

Oh, how he’d love to fucking wreck you; hear his name tumble so sweetly from those pretty lips of yours.

“Go home,” he suddenly says when he realises how his mind is running away with his filthy thoughts. He drops his head down so that he doesn’t have to look at you; he fears he’ll lose all sanity if he looks at you a moment longer.

“Sir?” you repeat, more bewildered this time. After all, he told you to stay behind, and now he’s telling you to leave. What’s his problem?

Seokjin’s mental strength slips a little further out of his grasp. Why do you have to keep calling him that in that innocent voice? You’re pretty much begging him to bend you over that very desk and have his way with you. He can’t handle that and needs you to stop before he truly loses his mind.

If only he knew you’ve imagined that very scenario many times already.

“Why are you calling me that?” he groans, almost whining.

“What? Sir?” He nods, and you tilt your head, confused eyes glaring into the top of his head. “Because…you’re my teacher,” you answer simply.

“And?!” he snaps, lifting his head to stare at you with wild eyes that dance madly over your features. The crazed expression makes you jolt a little in shock; he genuinely looks seconds away from losing his mind. “You shouldn’t call men things like that so easily!” he lectures. “Don’t you understand what it does to a man when a woman like you calls him such a thing?” Seokjin doesn’t know why he’s being so blunt, so open and honest with you, but he simply can’t stop himself.

“A woman like me?” you question, suddenly feeling self-conscious. You look down at your seated form with a little frown. “What’s wrong with me?”

All at once, Seokjin’s body cools down instead of burning up, and he calms dramatically. “What? Nothing is wrong with you. Why would you think anything is wrong with you?” he questions in an utterly bewildered murmur.

“You said a woman like me shouldn’t say those things,” you explain with your eyes glued to your fingers as you fiddle with the hem of your hoodie, thinking about what could be so wrong with you; maybe you could dress better; maybe you could make more of an effort. The thought makes you shrink dejectedly. A guy like Seokjin could never find a woman like you appealing.

“And that made you think something is wrong with you?” You don’t respond, you don’t need to. Your answer is obvious by the way you’ve curled in on yourself; an attempt to make yourself smaller, less visible. Seokjin says your name gently, gingerly reaching out to hold your chin between his thumb and forefinger, though you turn your head away out of his touch to prevent him from tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “Look at me,” he demands firmly.

Just like that, you stop pulling away and allow him to direct your line of sight to his face. You submit so easily to him, and it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

“Don’t you ever think that something is wrong with you,” he says, voice so soft and soothing, so honest, full of unspoken meaning, that your heart thrums and your cheeks speckle with a pretty blush. “You’re beautiful.” His gaze dances over your features, taking his time to memorise every little freckle, every little imperfection for when he’s home alone and needs to remember how your face alone has sent heat tingling through his body. “So beautiful.”

How has he gone through so many months already with you in his class without truly noticing your beauty? He doesn’t know, but he knows he’ll never stop noticing now.

“Sir…” you gasp at his words; never could you have expected the living definition of beautiful to utter such words to you. You can tell he means them too.

“I told you not to call me that,” he reminds, eyes turning stern again as they lock with your own.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why I can’t,” you reason, lips pouting in confusion. He has to fight the urge to pounce forward and suck your bottom lip between his own.

“How can such a beautiful woman be so clueless about the effect you have on men?” He chuckles softly and then backs up in fear that he won’t be able to take his hand from your face if he hovers a minute longer. Your head tilts in confusion, and eyebrows furrow. “I think it’s best you go home now,” he declares, turning on his heel and returning to his desk, where he has a stack of papers from another class that he needs to mark before he can go home.

“Not until you tell me why I can’t call you sir,” you argue, voice surprisingly firm.

As Seokjin sits in his chair, he looks up at you with raised eyebrows, finding you still sitting at your desk, stubbornly refusing to pack up your belongings to leave. “Go.”

“No.”

Seokjin’s lips twitch in amusement. You’re being so unbelievably stubborn for someone who was so quick to obey his words only minutes before.

“I’m not moving, Sir.”

Seokjin’s smile drops, and he sighs heavily. “Fine, but you’re not getting an answer. Sit there all night for all I care; I have papers to grade.” With that, he gets to work, picking up his trusty marking pen, and bending over the first assignment in the stack.

Yet knowing that you’re sitting there, only metres away, he can’t focus.

A groan of frustration leaves his throat, and he rubs his neck as he fights the urge to look up at you. He can feel your gaze locked on him, and it kind of irks him; you’re suddenly paying him so much attention at the one time he wants none of it.

“Stop staring,” he mutters, easily loud enough for you hear in the otherwise silent room, while he tries to reread the student’s answer for the fifth time. He still can’t make sense of it though; his mind is entirely stuck on you.

“I don’t want to, Sir.”

He knows you’re doing it just to wind him up. You want your answer and intend to play up until you get it. You’re being a little brat, and he kind of loves it.

“You don’t want to push me, little one,” he warns, glancing up at you over his glasses, giving you such a dark look that you visibly shiver. Fuck, you like it. The realisation forces him to put his hand under the desk to try to resituate the growing problem in his pants into less of an annoyance. “Are you going to be a good girl and go home?” he tries.

“I’ll leave when you tell me why I can’t call you sir, Sir,” you retort. And it makes him give up with marking, with restraining himself.

Seokjin leans back in his chair while tossing his pen onto the desk carelessly. “Get over here,” he orders. His cock twitches at the enthusiastic speed you scramble out of your chair to rush over and stand on the opposite site of the desk to him. “No, little one, here,” he corrects, motioning to his side.

You’re a little hesitant at first but obediently shuffle around the desk to stand beside his chair. “Yes, Sir?” you ask, wanting another order so desperately.

“Hands on the desk.” You tilt your head questioningly. “Be a good girl.” You nod and turn to place both palms flat on the desk so that you’re facing out over the empty room. “Hmm, lean over.” You do, leaning further over the desk, meaning your ass sticks out, and Seokjin watches closely, appreciating the way your little shorts cling to your backside. “Stay like that until I tell you to move. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir.” Seokjin smiles in approval and pushes his chair back, grinning when you don’t even try to look over your shoulder and see what he’s doing. You listen so well; it makes him so fucking hard.

Seokjin wheels his chair until he’s directly behind you, then adjusts the height until he’s sitting eye level with your ass. “You’ve been bad, you know this, don’t you, little one?” he hums, hands resting on his spread thighs, but fingers twitching with the urge to touch the expanse of your exposed thighs.

“I have?” you question in wonder, truly not aware of what he’s referring to.

“Yes, little one,” he confirms.

“Oh… When, Sir?”

“That is the most recent behaviour; refusing to listen when I told you to stop.” You remain quiet. “Will you admit to that?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And yet you still say it?”

“You haven’t explained, Sir.”

Seokjin chuckles lowly; you sure are stubborn for a submissive woman. “You never pay attention in my class,” he continues, allowing his fingers some relief by dancing them along the outside of your thighs directly above your knees, but only an inch or so before returning downwards and mindlessly stroking at your outer knees.

“I don’t mean to daydream, Sir.”

“You pay attention in every other class; I’ve checked up on you.”

That surprises you and makes you pause momentarily. “…You have?”

“Mmhmm, I had to see if it’s just your natural behaviour, or if you hate my class that much.”

“I don’t hate your class,” you argue, voice full of such honesty that Seokjin’s hands stop absently moving against your soft skin.

“You don’t?”

“No; I think you’re a brilliant teacher.”

“Then why are you failing?”

You don’t respond, not wanting to tell him the truth, too embarrassed. Though, as soon as his hands leave you with the intention of relocating his chair, you speak up quickly, not wanting him to move away. “I have trouble concentrating in your class. I try hard, but I can’t. I…have too many fantasies, Sir,” you confess, still a bit embarrassed but also feeling paradoxically shameless. At this point, you’ll confess to anything as long as he keeps touching you.

“Fantasies?” he encourages, voice low as his hands return to your legs. Seokjin never expected you to say that you fantasise throughout his class, and his heart pounds with the hope that he stars in them. It’s only logical to assume that you think about him, after all, it’s only his class that you daydream in.

“Yes, Sir.”

“What about?” You whine softly in response, clearly in no rush to answer, though it quickly turns into a yelp when his palm suddenly connects with your inner thigh. “Oh, shit! Sorry, sorry, I–” he tries to apologise, panicking over his own actions. He had reacted instinctively, wanting to put you in your place; a place you don’t even have being his student, but fuck does he wish you did.

“You! I fantasise about you!” you blurt out the confession, the breathless tone telling him that maybe, you like the situation as much as he does, and you’re far from opposed to the little slap on your thigh. “Sir,” you add on almost as an afterthought, though it doesn’t sound bratty anymore, more like you know that he likes hearing it; that you’ve finally figured it out.

“Fuck,” he curses, fingers digging into your flesh slightly as he grips you as if testing you, testing that the situation is real. “Me? You fantasise about me?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Doing what? What am I doing?”

“Me.” If you weren’t already driving him crazy, he would’ve laughed at your simple answer, but it only fuels his arousal. Seokjin groans softly, dropping his head forward to press his face into your lower back. You gasp softly in surprise, but don’t argue or react otherwise.

“You’ve been failing my class because you’ve been fantasising about me fucking you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Fuck!” he repeats, suddenly getting up, kicking his chair aside out of the way. “This is why you can’t call me sir.” For a split second, you’re confused, that is until his hips are pressed against your ass and you can feel his hard length against you. A shuddering, excited breath shakes your chest as you inhale. “You fantasised about feeling this, huh? My cock in you, little one?”

“Y–yes. Fuck, yes, Sir,” you’re almost slurring, mind spinning as you push your hips back to grind against his erection.

“Oh, shit, don’t,” he warns, but his large hands holding your hips tight say the opposite thing to his words. “S–stop.” You don’t.

“Why, Sir?”

“Because I’m your teacher.”

“Then teach me how to make you cum, Sir.”

The innocent tone you use, matched with the dirty words, sends a shudder through his body. “Oh, fuck.” Seokjin’s hands grip you tighter, pulling you back as he rolls his hips against you. “What’s your biggest fantasy? How do you imagine me fucking you the most?”

“On your desk, Sir.”

“Yeah?” You hum in confirmation, head bobbing along too. “Like this?” Seokjin grinds his hips forward, mimicking how he would fuck you. You suck in a shark breath, thighs shaking with arousal. You’re certain your underwear are soaked through and your shorts growing damp; you’re so fucking wet for him.

“Like this.” You move forward to press your hips against the edge of the desk, widening your stance while leaning down onto your elbows around the papers, making your back curve and thrust your ass further out.

“Oh, fuck, baby,” Seokjin groans at the sight of you; his wide, lust blown eyes raking over your figure greedily. The angle of your hips, and that they’re no longer pressed against him, exposes the growing damp patch between your thighs to his hungry gaze. “Fuck, I can see how wet you are already.” He moves one hand to press his fingers to the patch, making you whine needily and press back against him. “You want me bad, huh, little one?”

“Yes, so fucking bad,” you mumble shamelessly. “Please fuck me, Sir.”

Seokjin freezes: he never expected you to beg for it, yet here you are, proving to be the perfect fuck. “You asked so nicely, how can I say no?”

Your thighs shake with excitement, knowing that you’re finally getting to live out your fantasy; something you truly never thought would happen.

“Strip,” he orders as he steps back away from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. You don’t hesitate to respond, straightening up to remove your hoodie and toss it carelessly to the floor. “Wait,” Seokjin says, and you fall still. Suddenly, his hands are on your waist, lips coming down to trace an invisible line along the side of your neck and across our shoulder. “Do you always wear hoodies without anything underneath?” he asks, hands sliding around over your bare stomach to reach up and cup both of your exposed breasts in his warm hands.

“Yeah.”

“Well, fuck; I’m never going to be able to focus on class now I know that.”

“Sometimes, I don’t wear panties either,” you tease with a smirk on your lips.

Seokjin groans against your skin as he grinds his still covered cock against your ass. “Are you today?”

“Yes.”

“Next time, don’t.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As soon as he steps back, you lift your hands to your hips to hook your fingers under the waistband of both your shorts and underwear and slide them together down your legs to pool by your feet, then kick aside.

“I should’ve told you to stay behind sooner,” Seokjin says with a breathless chuckle as he admires the sight of your fully naked back. “Turn, let me see you.” Of course, you do, and turn to face him, only to realise that he’s still fully dressed, his belt is still securely latched into the buckle. He notices where your attention lays and looks down too. “Oh, right.”

Before he can return to work, you’re directly infront of him and pulling his belt free in seconds. Seokjin can only watch gobsmacked by how easily you remove the item; he always struggles with that particular belt.

“You look so hard, Sir,” you comment as your hands work on his button and zipper.

“Thanks to you.”

“Then maybe I should do something about it, hm?” Seokjin opens his mouth to respond, but you’re already on your knees and tugging down the material to free the object of your desire to your hungry graze. “You’re so big,” you coo, reaching out to wrap one hand around his thick length. Seokjin sucks in a shaky breath at your touch. “You’re going to feel so good pounding into me.”

“Shut up,” he groans. “Don’t talk like that.” His head tips back as you start to work your hand up and down his shaft at a leisurely pace, enjoying touching him for the first— and hopefully not last— time.

“Don’t you like dirty talk, Sir? You’re awfully good at it.”

“I–I can’t. Not right now,” he admits, knowing he’ll reach his end way too fast if he allows you to continue talking dirty to him. You make everything sound so delightfully sinful that he can hardly breathe. “Later?”

That makes your hand stop. “As in… We can do this again?” you question nervously, all confidence gone as you look up at him through your lashes. Seokjin lifts his head to look down at you. “What if… What if you don’t like it?”

“I’m this hard without you touching me, I doubt I won’t like fucking you,” he chuckles.

“Are you sure?”

“Just suck my cock already,” he chuckles again, darker this time as he smirks down at you.

And just like that, you’re back to being his submissive little one, ready to please. “Yes, Sir.” Eagerly, you dive forward, taking as much of his thick length into your mouth as physically possible at once, while using your hand to work the rest.

Seokjin chokes on a moan as his tip hits the back of your throat; you don’t even gag. “F–fuck, don’t you have a gag reflex?” he stutters on his words as you bob your head, taking the tip of his cock into your throat. You shake your head carefully, only slightly, while still sucking and bobbing away as if there’s nothing else you’d rather be doing right now. “So fucking perfect for me, little one.” He threads his fingers into your hair as he stares down at the way you work fucking magic on his cock with your mouth. “More, take more,” he demands after a moment, and you do.

Your eyes water at the stretch your throat is being forced to endure but you don’t complain. You love feeling him hot and heavy on your tongue. You’d happily suck his dick all night long if he asks.

Though, after only a few more minutes, Seokjin pulls you off his length, making you pout up at him and whine in wordless complaint.

“You like my cock in your throat that much?” he teases, and you nod shamelessly as he smirks down at you, pleased. “You’re definitely coming home with me tonight.” Your eyes light up, making you look like an excited little puppy, and he laughs lightly. “Get up, let me fuck you.” In seconds, you’re up on your feet and wincing at the pain in your knees from being pressing to the harsh tile floor. “Good girl.”

For a moment, you think he’s going to kiss you. He places his hands on your waist and steps closer, pressing his erection into your stomach. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips quickly, mindlessly, and his eyes track the moment. And then he spins you around to roughly bend you over the desk. If you couldn’t already feel his erection prodding at your entrance, you’d be upset that he hadn’t kissed you, but your mind is already focused on other things, mainly his cock.

“You’re so wet, little one. I bet I’d just slide right in, huh?” he taunts, rubbing the tip of his cock up and down your dripping folds with one hand wrapped around the base to direct his movement.

You expect him to push in, but he doesn’t. Instead, you feel the tip rest heavy on your clit, applying a teasing amount of pressure, while two of his fingers from his free hand wriggle their way into you.

“So warm,” he hums approvingly, talking to himself as he watches the way your pussy stretches around his curious fingers. He curls and scissors them to prepare you for his cock, while you gasp and writhe against his hand. His fingers feel pretty fucking good, but you want more. Need more.

“M–more, please, Sir,” you plead needily.

Seokjin complies, slipping in a third finger and immediately taking up a brutal pace of pumping and twisting the digits inside you. Moans spill from your lips, and your fingers try to grip onto the wood of the desk yet only slide across.

“You sound so pretty moaning like this, baby.” He pulls his fingers out, only to turn his hand over so that his palm faces the floor, then returns to thrusting his fingers into your pussy at a rapid pace. Now he can curl his fingers forward to press against that sweet little spot inside you and earn himself louder moans. “Ah, there it is, good girl,” he coos, pressing against the spot a few more times in rapid succession, before removing his fingers entirely.

You don’t have time to catch your breath to complain that he stopped when it felt so good. He wastes no time in pressing his cock into you with both hands gripping onto your hips tight to keep you still.

“Ah, Sir!” you exclaim when his hips snap forward impatiently to sheath his entire length deep within your dripping walls.

“Hm?” he can only offer a vague noise in response; his chest is already heaving from the effort of pushing his cock into you. He knew you could take it, you took his fingers so well, without complaint; but you’re so tight around him that he wasn’t sure that he’d be able to fit his full length at one point. And now he’s inside you, he never wants to leave; your walls hug him so well without leaving any of him untouched. He’s never felt something so perfect.

“So big, so good,” you slur, resting your forehead against the desk. You completely give up caring about the neat stacks of paper and push them out of the way so that you can press your chest against the cool wood of the desk for support. The movement has Seokjin’s cock settling a little deeper in your pussy, and he groans lowly in pleasure, fingers curling tighter into your skin. “Please, Sir, fuck me,” you beg, trying to force your hips back on him, feeling like you could get him just a little deeper if you pressed closer, but his grip is too tight.

Your words and desperate movements prompt him to act, at least. Seokjin’s head drops forward to watch his length reappear as he pulls his hips back slowly, before snapping forward and diving back inside. If your chest hadn’t already been pressed to the desk, his sudden, rapid thrusting would’ve made it that way.

Seokjin fucks like a mad man; hips battering against your ass as if fucking you is the only thing keeping him alive. He fucks like he’s on a mission to destroy you, and you love it.

Not once does it even occur to either of you that you’re in a public place with the door unlocked; in fact, it’s still open ajar. Honestly, even if someone was to walk in, neither of you would notice; you’re both entirely absorbed in the intense pleasure rapidly curling in your lower stomachs.

You’re both utterly shameless with your vocals too, moaning, and groaning, and panting heavily, spurring the other on with sounds as you both lose the ability to form words. Which only gets worse when he starts to pull your hips back to meet his thrusts, impaling you that little bit further on his cock and making you all but scream in pleasure as your legs threaten to give out.

You’re getting so tight around him that he’s finding it harder and harder to keep going; both because he’s hurting towards his climax, and because your walls are physically threatening to prevent him from moving. If you weren’t dripping with arousal already, Seokjin wouldn’t have even been able to keep going only minutes after starting.

He can’t wait to take you home and fuck you all night until you’ve soaked his mattress— and whatever other surface he decides to fuck you against. He’s already debating calling in sick tomorrow, just so that he has more time to play with you.

One particularly powerful thrust makes your knees give out with a yelp. Your body sags for only a second before Seokjin lurches forward to wrap his arms around you and pull you upright. “Shit, sorry,” he apologises while pulling out, then carefully turns you to sit you on the edge of the desk.

“It’s okay,” you reply, smiling breathlessly. Seokjin’s already thumping heart flutters at the sight of you. He’s never seen a sight so beautiful. “Don’t stop,” you encourage, opening your legs wide, and pulling his hips back to yours.

Seokjin makes short work of sliding his length back into you, sighing in pleasure at the feeling of having you wrapped around him again. “You feel so perfect,” he confesses, pressing his forehead against your shoulder to watch as his length slowly slides in and out of you. “So good.” He lifts his head to meet your gaze. “I want to kiss you,” he murmurs, eyes still locked with yours, which confuses you as you’re used to people looking at your lips when they want to kiss you. But you don’t mind at all, nor do you refuse; you want to kiss him too. You feel his lips turn up into a soft smile when you press yours to them.

As you both get lost in the kiss, Seokjin continues the slow, deep rolling of his hips, while your hands curiously explore one another. You almost complain about the fact he’s still fully dressed, wanting to feel his skin pressed against yours, but Seokjin happens to choose that moment to pick up the pace, and you simply moan into his mouth instead.

Very quickly, you both lose the ability to focus on the kiss and pull apart, your hands threaded in his hair, and his holding your thighs open as wide as possible to allow him to fuck you harder and deeper.

“I want you to cum,” he pants out when he feels himself getting dangerously close. “Touch yourself.”

You bite your lip nervously, having never touched yourself in front of someone before. But, you figure that if you were going to start, it’d be for Seokjin. Too desperate to cum to think on it for more than a second, you remove one hand from his hair to reach between your bodies and play with your clit, immediately tightening around his cock due to the extra, pleasurable stimulation.

“Shit, hurry, I’m gonna cum,” he urges, syllables slurring together, proving just how close he is to his climax. “Please, baby,” he begs, and just like that, your orgasm shoots through your body, curling your toes and tightening all of your muscles, almost giving your right calf a cramp, but you manage to straighten your leg just in time to prevent the pain; that would really ruin the mood. Seokjin grows still, watching your euphoric expression in awe for barely a second before he replaces his fingers on your clit with his thumb to work you through the pleasure.

When you whine from sensitivity and push his hand away, Seokjin pulls out and steps back while pointing to the floor with one hand, his other wrapping around his throbbing erection. “Down, mouth open,” he demands.

Despite your whole body feeling weak, and legs like jelly, you slide off the desk and lower yourself to the floor, opening your mouth wide in obedient wait. Seokjin groans low and affected at the sight of you, and pumps his hand up and down his length furiously. It only takes a few seconds before he’s spilling onto your tongue; you wrap your lips around him to suck gently, taking all he has to offer you.

When the pleasure has worked its way through his body, Seokjin pats your head softly in silent signal. “Good girl,” he pants, lips quirking in amusement at the way you haven’t yet removed his softening cock from your mouth, seeming more than happy to cock warm him for the foreseeable future. As much as he loves the sight of your lips stretched around him, he’s sensitive right now and doesn’t want to get overstimulated and risk not being up for fucking you again once he gets you home. “Up,” he says as he pulls out of your mouth, so that he can tuck himself away and pull up his boxers and trousers.

Once his zipper and button are secured back into place, Seokjin looks at you, only to find you still kneeling on the floor, watching him with innocent eyes.

“I said up,” he reminds, though you don’t make a move to obey. Instead, you open your mouth wide, showing him that you haven’t swallowed a drop of his cum. “Oh…” Seokjin chews on his bottom lip briefly, more aroused by the sight of his cum pooling in your mouth than he’d like to admit. “Swallow it.”

Obediently, you press your lips together and tip your head back so that he can see the bob of your throat when you swallow. Once you’ve swallowed every drop down, you lift your head back up to look at him, and once again part your lips wide to show your empty mouth.

“That’s my girl,” he praises, making you beam, and he smiles fondly. “Come on, let’s get you decent enough to get back to my place. You can show me how deep you can really suck my cock.” Immediately, you light up and rush to get up to excitedly do as told.

As promised, Seokjin helps you get dressed, before he takes you back to his apartment to enthusiastically lay you out over every possible surface, and even pin you up against multiple walls.

It’s the first time Seokjin has ever received a noise complaint, but all he needs to do is look over at your mischievous grin to know that it won’t be the last.

Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Mr. Min Part Five: Friends and Facts - M.YG

🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader. 🎶What: Some humour. Suggestive (18+). Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Single parent Yoongi. Music teacher Yoongi. Child Taehyung. Child Jihoon. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu. 🎶Word count: 6.1k 🎶Warnings: Disabled characters— both mental and physical in various ways. A bit of a tough moment for Taehyung where friends are involved. Seungcheol and Hansol are both children and brothers. Mentions of child Jeonghan and Jisoo. Profanity. Suggestive themes. 🎶Summary:

Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

My general masterlist

🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.

After too short of a visit in Japan, your family is back home, with all three of you wishing you could’ve stayed for more than a few days, while also being glad to be back in your familiar space.

It feels like you only blink and the summer holidays are over, and Taehyung is back at school.

Though, Taehyung’s classroom gains a very angry little winged visitor on Monday morning before school starts, resulting in no school for him and his classmates on Monday. Although there technically is more than enough space in the school to put them in another room while the bird is safely removed and the class fully sanitised again, the teaching staff don’t think it wise to suddenly relocate a classroom of SEN students who need the stability and functions of their usual classroom.

So, you and Mingyu get another day with your son— to all of your joy—, and then, on Tuesday morning, Taehyung skips into school happily; excited to see Mr. Lee and give his bestest friends the friendship bracelets he picked out in Hawaii.

The last thing you expect while you wait on the playground after school for the class to be let out, is to see your son looking so sad as he approaches you hand in hand with a sympathetic looking Mr. Lee.

“What happened?” you worry as Taehyung latches onto your legs and only loosens his hold enough to allow you to pick him up and hold him close, where he tucks his face into your neck to hide away from the world.

“Tae’s had a bit of a bad friendship day,” Mr. Lee answers, looking genuinely a little upset about this as he frowns at Taehyung’s dejected form clinging to you, then returns his gaze to you as he continues to explain. “His usual little group didn’t include him today, because apparently, Tae was mean to Seungcheol by not attending his birthday party in the summer.”

You blink a few times, utterly bewildered. “It was Seungcheol’s birthday party? I didn’t know that, and I’m very positive Tae would’ve been too excited to not tell me if he was invited to one of his best friend’s birthday party.”

Mr. Lee hums in understanding. “I think it might be a good idea to have you and Seungcheol’s parents come in tomorrow before school, with the boys of course, and try to get to the bottom of this. He wasn’t happy today either, so I imagine his parents will want to fix this.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” you agree. “How early should we be here?”

“Is twenty minutes before the bell doable for you? That will give plenty of time to get to the root of the issue, and then the boys will have time to play together before the other students come in; I think that would be good for them both.”

“We’ll be here,” you promise.

“Great. I’ll see you both in the morning then. See you tomorrow, Tae,” Mr. Lee says, gently touching his fingertips to Taehyung’s back for a moment in goodbye, yet not lingering at all, knowing it would overwhelm the boy right now.

As Mr. Lee turns and walks back to his classroom, you lift Taehyung a little higher to make carrying him easier, then head to your car ready to spend the rest of the evening doing everything humanely possible to try and put a smile back on your son’s face.

For the first time in a long time, Taehyung isn’t excited about going to school. He’s grumpy as he gets out of bed and barely touches his breakfast despite Mingyu having cooked the boy’s favourite to try and cheer him up.

He only perks up when the three of you are leaving the house and he spots the gift bag you’re carrying. “It’s Wednesday,” you remind, seeing a little of his usual light flitter back into his eyes. “Mr. Min teaches you this afternoon, so you can give him the gifts you picked for him and Jihoon.” That makes Taehyung give the first smile of the day as he climbs into the car with more energy than he’s had this morning and lets his dad strap him securely into his seat.

“Remember, you can’t call him Yoongi anymore,” Mingyu reminds as he fiddles with the clasps he still insists were designed just to piss him off, despite Taehyung having been using this specific seat for over a year now.

“Mr. Min,” Taehyung replies with a nod, seeming to be implanting the reminder into his still slightly sleepy mind. “Mr. Min,” he repeats as Mingyu backs off, mindlessly giving his dad their usual high-five to celebrate getting the straps securely buckled, too focused on muttering the name under his breath.

“I swear, that’s like a cheat code or something,” Mingyu muses as he climbs into the car. “Tell him he’s going to see his favourite teacher, and he cheers up.” You just hum in agreement while double checking that everyone is strapped in safely and ready to go.

As you start the drive, you just hope that before you leave the meeting, you won’t need to use Taehyung’s favourite teacher as a means to cheer your son up any more today.

Even though you do sometimes drop Taehyung off at school on Wednesday mornings, it’s not that regular as that’s always Mingyu’s or his parents’ day, but still, you’ve been at the school on Wednesday mornings before, yet you’ve never seen Yoongi around.

Evidently, as he steps out of the classroom into the hallway, he’s surprised to see you today too, as his eyes widen a little when he looks at the three of you. Though he wipes the look off of his face as Taehyung shuffles forward to hug his favourite teacher. “Good morning, Tae.”

“Sad mornin’,” Taehyung replies, face partially buried in the man’s leg.

“Well, we’re here to fix that,” he promises, then looks up at you and Mingyu. “Seungcheol and his parents are already here, come on through.”

The four of you enter the classroom where Mr. Lee is sitting on the desk chair pulled around to be seated with the fold out chairs, two of which are occupied by who you have to assume are Seungcheol’s parents, while the little boy himself is beside his mother in his wheelchair. You’ve only met the boy a few times, but you know he only uses his wheelchair when he’s having a bad mobility or pain day; and based on how his little expression is pinched in pain and he’s got his hands pressed to the crease where his legs connect to his hips, it’s a bad pain day.

Clearly, Taehyung knows as much too because as soon as he notices his friend’s condition, he gasps and lets go of Yoongi’s hand to rush across to the large cupboard at the front of the class beside the whiteboard.

From your guided tour of the school and classroom back in April, you know that cupboard contains a vast array of medical and first aid equipment to help handle whatever needs the children may have that doesn’t require being sent home or to the hospital. Every room in the school has one, and each classroom’s is personalised for the use of the students in that class. Of course, the dangerous and more delicate equipment is up out of reach of the children, but the lower shelves hold items that the children can get themselves; to give them a sense of responsibility and independence, knowing they likely will have to handle these things for the rest of their lives, so it’s better to get them used to it while young.

Taehyung grabs out what you recognise as heat pouches— the type that contain little fabric baggies that can be removed and put in the microwave to be warmed up. Without a word, he rushes to take them to Yoongi, as the teacher is still standing, and holds them up to the man with a pleading expression. Equally as quiet, Yoongi accepts the bags with a proud little smile, pats Taehyung’s head, then heads over to the microwave to remove the little baggies and place them inside.

As the microwave quietly whirs, heating the bags, your family goes over to sit on the chairs; though Taehyung stands in front of you, looking between the microwave and Seungcheol rapidly.

“Thank you for coming in,” Mr. Lee says before going on to politely introduce you and Mingyu to Seungcheol’s parents. “I think–” he starts to say, clearly planning to get to the point of being here, but the microwave dings softly and Taehyung darts over towards it.

You all watch as Taehyung accepts the packs once Yoongi has put them back together and handed them over. The little boy immediately turns and scuttles over to Seungcheol to give him the packs and watch as he puts them in place against his hips, and relaxes a little, giving Taehyung a soft “thanks, Tae”.

Only now that he’s done what he can to help, and Seungcheol doesn’t look so uncomfortable, does Taehyung return to stand in front of you. You don’t hesitate to tug him closer between your thighs to hold his hands and kiss the back of his head where it faces you, so proud of your thoughtful little boy.

“That doesn’t seem like a mean boy, Cheolie,” Seungcheol’s mother speaks up, turning her head from watching Taehyung in surprise, to give her own son a questioning look. Seungcheol just looks down at his hands as they pick at his trousers, offering no response.

Before Mr. Lee can do more than open his mouth to try and mediate the situation, Taehyung speaks up, shuffling nervously on his feet, and fingers randomly pressing into your hands in an effort of self-soothing, “I–I promise I ne–never knewed it was summer party birthday,” he vows, looking between Seungcheol— who is still looking down at his own lap— and the boy’s parents, both looking at Taehyung openly, clearly more than willing to give your son a chance to explain himself.

“Seungcheol didn’t give you the invitation?” Seungcheol’s dad asks. The second Taehyung shakes his head, Seungcheol’s parents both look at their son. “Seungcheol? You told us you handed the invitations out.”

Seungcheol sniffles, then looks at his parents with big eyes that look suddenly sad. “I–I was going to, but my legs hurt, so Hannie said he’d do it!” he defends. “He told me he gave to Tae and Soo!” he insists, looking on the verge of tears that you think aren’t entirely due to the pain he’s in.

“I see,” his mother sighs, then turns to look at your family. “I think I know exactly what happened here. Jeonghan and Seungcheol have been best friends since they were babies, and Jeonghan is very attached to his Cheolie,” she explains. You think you get where this is going but remain quiet to let her finish. “Jeonghan has always had a bit of a jealous streak when it comes to Seungcheol and other children, and it’s caused more than a few issues in the past. It’s not until they met Jisoo that Seungcheol gained a friend other than Jeonghan, so we were admittedly very worried when he came home talking about Taehyung this year.”

Seungcheol’s dad nods in agreement, taking his wife’s hand into his where she has it on her lap politely. “We should’ve known something like this would happen. We’re very sorry that this happened and upset your sweetheart of a son.”

“It’s not your fault,” Mingyu assures. “These kinds of things are bound to happen at some point, we’re just glad it’s more of a misunderstanding than anything.”

“Cheolie,” Seungcheol’s dad says, looking at his son, who looks up at him with a few tears on his cheeks, and lips turned into a sad pout. “I think you owe your friend an apology, don’t you? You really upset him by leaving him out yesterday.”

“I–I’m sorry, Tae,” Seungcheol says immediately, looking at Taehyung so earnestly that it’s clear that he means it and does truly feel guilty about it. “A–are you still my–my friend?”

Taehyung nods and lets go of you to move over and carefully hug Seungcheol, who melts in relief and squeezes Taehyung back. “I have for you gift!” he declares as he backs up, smiling and back to his usual self now as he removes his backpack. You watch as Taehyung takes the little paper bag of bracelets from his bag to show Seungcheol. “For you, and me, and Soo, and Hannie,” he informs. “You pick for you.”

“Oh!” Seungcheol beams and takes his take deciding which bracelet he likes best.

“Your son really is so sweet,” Seungcheol’s mother coos, drawing your attention. You can practically feel Mingyu puff with pride on your right. “How about we do something this weekend, just for the two boys; to make up for this whole ordeal?” she suggests.

“Can Tae come over?” Seungcheol asks, eyes wide in excitement. “To play with me, and he can meet Ponyo!”

“Fish girl?” Taehyung asks confusedly, and Seungcheol giggles, shaking his head.

“Ponyo is our new puppy! He’s so cute!”

“Puppy?!” Taehyung gasps and starts bouncing excitedly. “I can see puppy?!”

“Well, I think they’ve already planned it,” Seungcheol’s dad jokes, looking at you and Mingyu with a smile. “Would that be okay, for Taehyung to come over for the afternoon to play and meet the puppy?”

“I think we’d break his heart if we said no,” Mingyu jokes back, and you nod in agreement, all of you smiling as the two boys cheer happily, understanding that they get to hang out this weekend together— something they haven’t done before.

“Let’s exchange numbers,” Seungcheol’s mother suggests, already taking her phone from her handbag to unlock. “We can discuss it better through text; arrange a time, and you can let me know of any allergies or things we need to keep in mind for Taehyung’s visit.”

“That sounds great,” you agree and get up with your phone to approach the woman, who also gets to her feet so that you can exchange phone numbers.

After you and Seungcheol’s mother agree to text in the day to arrange the play date, she and her husband say goodbye to their son, and the rest of you, before they take their leave.

“Hey, Tae,” Mingyu calls conspiratorially while Mr. Lee helps Seungcheol put his bag and jacket away instead of leaving them hanging on the back of his wheelchair. Taehyung skips over to his dad curiously, then gasps in excitement when Mingyu pointedly shows the boy the giftbag by your feet.

“Mr. Min!” Taehyung exclaims, scrambling to clutch the gift bag close, before rushing over to his favourite teacher, where the man is flicking through papers as he stands beside the desk.

You and Mingyu remain where you are to watch contently as Taehyung excitedly gives Yoongi the gifts he picked out for him and Jihoon in Japan; a little plush Kumamon keyring for the teacher— because Taehyung knows the man apparently loves the mascot—, and a musical snow globe that plays a song for the anime that the character within is from, just because Taehyung thinks Jihoon will love the song even if he doesn’t watch anime. You think he’s right; it really is a beautifully soothing tune.

Yoongi enthuses about the gifts from where he had crouched down in front of the little boy to be at his height. He looks genuinely thrilled with his keychain, grinning big and gummy, and straightens just enough to clip it onto the belt loop of his jeans, making your heart do something funny and flippy seeing him be so good with your son.

You can’t help but wonder if your heart would skip over itself seeing Yoongi acting like this with other children. Something in you tells you it wouldn’t; that it’s the fact it’s your son he’s being so sweet to that makes your heart grow sweeter on him.

In an attempt to not let how soft the scene has made you show on your features, you grab Mingyu’s arm and call out to Taehyung that you’re going now. Once Taehyung has finished squeezing you both, and planting kisses on both of your cheeks— gaining one on each cheek in return at the same time from you both—, he rushes back over to his favourite teacher to tell him about Japan, and you all but drag Mingyu out, ignoring the shit eating grin he’s wearing.

“So, when’re you proposing?” he jokes as you exit the building. You wait until you’re in the car and safely out of view of little eyes and ears before retaliating with a hissed “shut the fuck up”, and a shove to his beefy arm. Mingyu just cackles in response.

To your utter joy, when Taehyung gets home, he’s back to skipping off ahead of his dad to excitedly tell you about his day. He tells you how in the morning, Jeonghan had apologised for not giving him Seungcheol’s party invite and being a meanie. Of course, Taehyung had easily forgiven him and gave Jeonghan and Jisoo their friendship bracelets. And to make his day even better than a promise of a puppy-play date with one of his best friends this weekend, and an apology and make up hug from Jeonghan, the boy even let Taehyung sit next to Seungcheol at lunch, in the seat that Jeonghan usually refuses to let anyone but him sit in.

Although you’re pretty sure it won’t be the last issue Taehyung ever has with his best friends, you’re glad to know that it seems that even though they’re small, they can forgive and be kind to each other in ways that you’ve seen some adults fail to do. You hope that the four will continue to remain such good friends for a long time. Taehyung really does deserve to grow with the boys who understand him and won’t ever judge him for his struggles.

As you listen to Taehyung enthuse about the games they played today between classes— all sit down games to accommodate Seungcheol’s bad pain day— you’re pretty confident that the four will truly be close for many years to come.

On Thursday, Taehyung comes home even more excited than Wednesday, having babbled to you the entire ride home about Jihoon finding him at lunch on the playground, even though Taehyung has never seen Jihoon on the playground before. But apparently, Jihoon had wanted to thank Taehyung for the gift and let him know that he searched the anime intro the snow globe played, then watched the anime and quickly decided he likes anime. He suggested that Taehyung watch it when he’s bigger too, because it’s probably too scary for Taehyung to watch at his age, so he needs to be bigger first. Taehyung hadn’t remembered what the anime is— neither could you— but the two of you made a plan for Taehyung to ask Yoongi at school to write it down for you to research it together.

Which somehow leads to Taehyung finding an anime Thursday evening once you get home from the school run, and watches it entirely enthralled. He does the same on Friday after school, finishing the single season show, then finds another to start, and declares that he loves anime during bedtime.

You’re not at all surprised that Saturday consists of Taehyung partaking in his new favourite hobby, watching anime. Admittedly, you also get into the show too and leave Mingyu to deal with the day’s chores and grocery run on his own. Not that he minds when it’s often down to you to do it all as he’s away for work so much.

Then, on Sunday, Taehyung wakes, and before he’s even fully cognisant, he toddles downstairs all on his own to turn on the TV and finish the episode he had to turn off half-way through for bedtime last night.

You’re entirely unaware of this until Mingyu wakes you up by sprawling over you— fully dressed despite it barely being 8am— and squeezes your cheeks playfully while you glare sleepily at him. “Good morning, cupcake!” he greets, and presses a kiss to your still squished cheeks before sitting up, kneeling over your waist. “I think our son is an anime addict,” he declares, making your eyes open again from closing ready to go back to sleep— or at least rest some more.

“What?” you mumble, shuffling around into a more comfortable position on your back to look up at him.

“I was making breakfast when he came down like an hour ago and didn’t even notice me in the kitchen, just turned on the TV and got back to that anime he was watching last night.”

“Seriously?” He nods, pouting a little, and you snicker. “Are you sulking because he didn’t notice you in the kitchen?”

Mingyu hesitates before answering in a tone that you don’t even have to know him well to know is a blatant lie. “No.”

You laugh and nudge him off of you so that you can toddle to the bathroom, suddenly aware of how full your bladder is. “Did you make him breakfast?”

“Yeah,” he confirms, following you into the bathroom. At this point, you’ve both cared for each other when the other has been ill and barely able leave the toilet— with a bucket clutched on naked thighs—, so you really have no issue with peeing with Mingyu hovering at the sink to ready your toothbrush for you, knowing you’ll want to brush your teeth as you’re up now.

As soon as you’ve flushed the toilet and are at the sink washing your hands, Mingyu attaches himself to your back and buries his face in your neck, still clutching your toothbrush in one hand. Though the second you take it from him and start to brush your teeth, his hand is under your pyjama top— one of his old t-shirts he claims has always looked better on you— to rub at your stomach.

“Let’s have another baby,” he says, making your freeze and look over your shoulder at him as if he’s crazy. Upon spotting his cheeky grin, you realise he’s just messing with you and shove him away before turning back around to return to brushing your teeth while he giggles away, so damn pleased at himself for his joke. “I’m kidding!” he declares when you’re done and turn to leave your ensuite. “I know you’re going to have a baby with Yoongi, if anyone.” He's cackling and running away even before he’s done with his taunt.

For a moment, you regret admitting your interest in Min Yoongi to Mingyu, but then the moment passes and you’re glad that your ex-husband is still your best friend, and the two of you still care and cherish one another to never hesitate to share any secrets with. Even if it leads to the man taking every opportunity to tease you. You know you’d do the same to him if the roles were reversed, so you can’t really be upset about it anyway.

As both you and Taehyung are already up when Mingyu has to leave to catch his flight at a little after 9am, you decide to drive him to the airport— with you and Taehyung still donned in your pyjamas. You and Taehyung sit in the car to watch the man rush off with his security team— who met you at the drop off point— and only drive off when he’s safely in the building after blowing kisses to the car in one last dramatic goodbye.

“Mama, can we get gift for Cheolie for late birthday?” Taehyung requests only minutes after driving away from the airport.

“Oh, yeah, we can do that. I didn’t even think that we didn’t get him a birthday gift,” you admit. “Good catch, baby. Shall we go now, or do you want to go home and change first?”

“Go now so we have plenty lots time,” he decides.

“Okey dokey!” you easily agree, and head to the shopping district. You’re entirely uncaring that you’re about to go shopping on a Sunday morning in your worn old pyjamas, with your hair lazily thrown up out of your face in a bun that Taehyung had insisted on doing himself before you left the house— so that your hair doesn’t get in your face when driving—, complete with mismatched, bright character clips. You probably look a mess, but you’re about five years past caring, not when your sole focus is always Taehyung.

Even though you know that Taehyung is going to carefully scrutinise every single option on the shelves before likely choosing to buy the very first thing he picks up, you really don’t mind at all. Taehyung always wants to do his very best for those he cares about, down to taking his time to make sure any gift he selects will be enjoyable for the receiver. The little boy just has so much love in him, and you’ll never intentionally do a thing to ever ruin that.

As soon as the front door of the Choi house opens, Seungcheol bounces out and happily throws himself at Taehyung in an overjoyed hug. He’s clearly more than excited to see Taehyung today, and thankfully, his body is being kind enough to him that he doesn’t seem to be in any pain. It’s definitely a cause to smile bright enough that his adorable dimples pop out, you think.

“I missed you!” Seungcheol declares as the boys embrace each other tightly, both wearing bright grins paired with sparkling eyes.

“I missed you!” Taehyung replies, entirely honestly because he always misses his loved ones, even after only a few hours apart.

“Come meet Ponyo!” Seungcheol says as soon as they break their hug, grabbing Taehyung’s hand to tug him in past his dad at the door, only stopping to show Taehyung where to put his slides, then the pair run off happily.

“Well, it seems like there shouldn’t be any problems today,” the man muses as he turns to you with a chuckle.

“It seems that way,” you agree and hold up the gift bag in your hands. “This is a late birthday gift for Seungcheol, Taehyung is very excited to give it to him; he’ll circle around to it when he’s over the excitement of puppy and a new place to explore,” you explain, handing over the gift bag.

“Oh, that’s so kind, you didn’t have to get him anything, but I know he will appreciate it. His mother and I do too.”

“It’s really no problem. One of Tae’s love languages is gift giving; it makes him really happy to give others things, so I’ll never say no when he wants to buy one of his best friends a birthday gift,” you assure with a vaguely dismissive wave of your hand, then offer the backpack on your shoulder, which the man takes without hesitation. “There should be everything he needs in there if he gets overwhelmed, plus a change of clothes just in case. He knows it’s there and he’s pretty independent with that stuff usually, so he should be fine to just get what he needs when he needs it so long as he knows where his bag is.”

“I’ll leave it on the dining table, out of reach of our youngest and the puppy, and tell him it’s there right away.”

“Thank you, I really appreciate how much care you and your wife have put into having Tae over. I know it can be a lot of information to take in, all his potential needs and such, but chances are, he’ll be okay. I’d just rather warn you just in case, and to minimise chances of things being uncomfortable for anyone.”

“We understand. Cheolie has a lot of needs himself, as you can imagine, so we really do understand. Sure, their needs are very different, but we still want to do our best to accommodate anyone special to our son.” He smiles at you a moment, then glances downwards, making you look down too and notice a toddler peering around his legs and clutching on. “Ah, this is our youngest, Hansol. Solie, say hi.” Hansol waves but doesn’t look at you.

“Hello, Hansol, it’s lovely to meet you,” you reply softly, leaning down a little to be closer to his level without risking overwhelming him. “I like your t-shirt, Spider-Man is my favourite superhero.” Hansol glances up at you through his thick lashes, and breaks into a quick, bright smile, before he giggles, turns, and runs off. “He’s adorable,” you coo as you straighten back up.

“I’ll admit, we did well with our sons in that way for sure,” the man jokes with a grin. Now you can see where Seungcheol gets his dimples from and can’t help but smile wider at him.

“Definitely, they’re both precious,” you agree with a nod. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. Please don’t hesitate to call for any reason at all; I’m not doing anything today, so I can come back if Tae needs me at any point.”

“We will,” he promises, settling you a lot, because he really does look like he’s being genuine. “Have a nice time, relax a little.”

“Oh, I plan to,” you reply with a giggle and back up. You wave slightly in farewell before you return to your car and head off.

Due to the nice weather and great natural lighting, you head to a nearby lake only a ten-minute drive away with every intention of taking some photos. It’s been a while since you’ve worked with nature, not people, so the change of literal scenery is very welcome.

Despite your initial plans, once you’ve found somewhere to park and wander along towards the lake with your camera already out for anything that might catch your eye on the way, you spot something that gains your attention in a different way and makes you detour a little.

Sitting on a bench just outside of the playpark, along the path in the grass towards the lake, is none other than Jungkook. You two had great fun together in Hawaii, and you have a few hours to kill, so you entirely give up on your plan to take any photos and instead redirect your feet to his direction. Though, admittedly, you do stop and snap a few photos of the model while he’s unaware. You know he won’t care, especially if you send them to him later.

“Hey,” you greet once close enough, making Jungkook look over and quickly grin at you.

“Hey, mama. No cub today?”

“He’s having a playdate,” you inform, circling around the bench to plop down at his side comfortably, uncaring that his arm is spread over the back of the bench so is now almost around you. You want him all over you right now anyway and want to take him home sooner rather than later to achieve just that.

Yet, when you face forward, you suddenly realise that won’t happen as you spot Jihoon in the park and realise that Jungkook is seated in the perfect position to watch over him. The boy isn’t playing like the few other kids in the park, he’s just sitting on one of the swings, gently moving back and forth with his eyes on the clouds and headphones over his ears. It’s clear he’s in his own little world and more than content that way.

“Oh, are you babysitting Jihoon?” you question, surprised about the fact, because honestly, you hadn’t seen Jungkook interact with either Yoongi or Jihoon at Seokjin’s wedding, so you hadn’t been aware they even know each other. Especially not well enough for Jungkook to watch over the boy— and for Jihoon so seem so at east about it too.

“Yep.” Jungkook confirms simply with a nod, making you give him a questioning look. “What?”

“I didn’t know you even know him.”

“He’s my nephew.”

For a few seconds, all you can do is stare blankly at Jungkook, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. “He’s what?” you mutter dumbly.

“My nephew, as in I’m his uncle.”

“Oh my fucking god,” you wheeze out and turn away wide eyed, staring over at Jihoon unseeing. But it’s fine, he doesn’t even know you’re there, so he doesn’t get uncomfortable with your strange expression. “You’re Yoongi’s brother?” you whisper.

“Yeah, well, half, we have different dads. But we don’t really consider that most of the time.” You make a strange, almost strangled kind of sound in response. “What?”

“Nothing,” you lie, pretty blatantly too, but you’re too shocked with your mind whirling to even care or truly register it.

“Bullshit,” he scoffs, and gently hits your shoulder with his hand on the back of the bench. “I know you. What is it?”

For a moment, you just stare silently ahead, before you let out a heavy breath and slouch defeatedly. “Kinda got a thing for your brother,” you admit in a mumble. Instantly, Jungkook gasps in genuine shock, only to crack up into laughter a second later. “How did I not know you have a brother?” you grump, prodding his thick thigh where it’s almost pressed against your own.

It takes a moment for Jungkook to stop cackling away and actually respond. “Guess it never came up.” He snickers. “I’m not sure how he’ll feel about dating someone I’ve fucked, but I’ll put in a good word for you,” he offers as he puts his arm casually around your shoulders. You don’t even need to look at him to know he’s got a dumbass, highly amused grin on his face.

“Don’t bother,” you huff and Jungkook makes a curious noise, turning more serious now due to your own tone. “He wouldn’t even swap numbers with me for the sake of the boys hanging out. School policy, apparently.”

“What?” he mutters confused, only to realise a split second later and make a sharp noise of understanding. “Oh, oh shit, Tae goes to Hoon’s school, I forgot.” He hums, then quickly makes another confused sound. “Wait, that shouldn’t matter though.”

“Yoongi’s Tae’s sub right now,” you inform.

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it,” he agrees. You’re still watching a contently oblivious Jihoon swaying on the swing, but you can see Jungkook’s head bobbing in your peripheral. “Teachers can’t get into romantic or sexual relationships with the parents or guardians of students under their direct care,” he says in a way that sounds like he knows that particular rule far too well when he is neither a staff member nor parent of a student at the school. For a second, you start to run through the staff you know in your mind to try and figure out who Jungkook may’ve seduced in order to learn that rule so well, but then he continues speaking and you truly register what he’s saying. “If he wasn’t Tae’s teacher, he could do whatever he wants with you.”

The information Jungkook tells you doesn’t entirely make sense to you, not in your situation. You hadn’t given any hints to Yoongi about wanting to fuck or date him, past that moment of weakness when you flirted as he and Jihoon left your hotel suite in Hawaii that day. “What about platonic?” you question, shuffling to sit up straight again and look at Jungkook.

“Platonic?” he repeats, raising an eyebrow at you questioningly.

“Yeah, I asked to exchange numbers, not nudes,” you point out.

“Ah.” Jungkook’s expression turns into a playful smirk, and he wiggles his eyebrows at you comically. “Guess you have a better chance than you realise.”

You sigh, pouting a little. “Not now that I’ve sat on your face.”

“Yeah, probably not,” he agrees with a few more amused cackles, making you sigh again and turn to face forward again while putting your head on his shoulder comfortably. “We should do that again, if it’s already fucked up for you,” he suggests, resting his head on top of yours.

“Mm, sure,” you concede, because it really was a great experience that you’d be a fool to refuse given the chance. “But come February, I’m sitting on his face,” you decide determinedly.

“Okay, whatever you say, mama,” he agrees and pats your shoulder.

Honestly, you really don’t know if Yoongi would be okay with seeing you in any capacity past platonic once he learns that you’ve fucked his half-brother, but Jungkook knows the man better than you and seems to think that there’s at least some chance for you to worm yourself into Yoongi’s heart— and bed—, so you’re going to keep hope in your chest and wait for spring to bloom a new chance for you.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

If you wish to be tagged in future parts, please refer to the bottom of the Mr. Min masterlist.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Life's a Beach - K.MG

🌊Who: Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader 🌊What: Smut (18+). Some humour. Some fluff. Strangers to Lovers. Lifeguard Mingyu. 🌊Word count: 7.1k 🌊Warnings: Profanity. Quick joke about burying a body on the beach. Slight drowning, it’s not graphic and it’s very quick all in all. Passing mention of panic. Semi-public sex. Kissing. Oral (female receiving). Fingering. Big dick Mingyu. PIV sex. Unprotected sex. Multiple orgasms (female receiving). Messy Mingyu. Choking. A single solitary spank. Mentions of bruising. I think that’s it. 🌊Summary:

You don’t like the beach, but you do like the handsome lifeguard who works there. As it turns out, he likes you too and is more than willing to risk his job to have you.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.

A few weeks ago, your best friend managed to succeed in convincing you to go to the beach— after some very effective emotional manipulation in the form of puppy eyes and pouting at you. She had promised you’d enjoy yourself, and admittedly, you did, but not because of the beach itself.

Still, she used your enjoyment to convince you to return a few days later, and then another few more, and soon enough, the two of you seem to spend more time at the beach than your homes in your free time.

Now, the reason for your interest in attending the sand and seas, despite liking neither of those things, is pretty simple. The eye candy. One particular hunk of a man with a sweet smile, in particular.

You have no idea what his name is, you’ve never spoken to him nor been in close proximity; but that doesn’t deter you from setting up in that same spot under the parasol for a few hours every few days, at roughly the same time, just to watch Mr. Hunky Lifeguard do his rounds, strolling topless up and down the sand, and helping where he can.

It’s sweet; the way he’ll help anyone who asks, even with matters you’re very certain are not a part of his job description. Judging impromptu sandcastle contests between kids. Blowing up beach balls. Helping older folk set up their beach chairs and parasols.

You can’t help but wonder if he’d help you apply sunscreen. His warm hands slipping over your thighs, working up, and up, and–

“Hey!” The voice of your best friend breaks you from your fantasies as she skips over happily, hands cupped together, and before she’s even close enough, you already know what’s in her hands. “Check this out!” She drops onto her knees at your side to proudly show you…a little crab. So not another shell to add to the pile gathering on the sand to your right, as you had assumed.

“A crab.”

“Yes.”

“I thought you were looking for shells to decorate your castle with?” You both look over at the half-finished and, admittedly, rather grand sandcastle a little to the side, safely out of the way from any passerby.

“Every castle needs a King; don’t you think he’ll look crabulous on his throne?” You look back at your best friend to find her grinning at you, proud of her joke.

“Go find shells,” you deadpan, she just giggles and gets up to return to the rockpool where she had found the crab, to return it to its home.

Thoroughly distracted from your fantasy of the hot lifeguard, you have honestly forgotten about it and also happened to have lost track of him. Last you saw him, he was up on the deck of the watch tower, peering over the beach through binoculars, yet now, he’s nowhere to be seen.

With a disappointed sigh, you decide to just relax, leaning back against the bags you’ve piled up to create an impromptu backrest, and go back to reading your book.

It’s not even ten minutes later when a figure blocks your light and casts a shadow over your pages. You immediately assume it’s your friend from the way the figure lingers, and you lift your head with every intention of accepting whatever funky patterned rock or shell she’s found this time, yet it’s not her who you spot, but Mr. Hunky Lifeguard himself.

“Hi,” he greets, hands on his hips, and smiling at you in that bright, friendly way you’ve noticed him smiling at everyone else.

You take the moment with him so close to quickly rake your hidden gaze over his exposed, sun-kissed, toned torso and arms. Praise be to whoever invented dark sunglasses. “Hello.”

“Family day out?” he questions, motioning to the pile of plastic beach toys beside the sandcastle on your right, causing you to look over and only now realise how it must look; that you’re here with your child, not your grown ass adult of a best friend.

“Not exactly,” you huff a laugh and lean aside a little to peer around him. “My best friend,” you declare upon spotting said person, and pointing to her. To your surprise, she’s squatting down with another lifeguard— this one wearing the same red shorts, though he’s got a white sleeveless t-shirt on—, and rummaging through the sand with your friend.

“Oh!” The man in front of you lets out a surprised little laugh when he looks over too. “I’ve never seen Vernon interact like that with a stranger. Unless they know each other?”

“Not that I’m aware of.” You shrug and look back up at the tall man in time to see his body angle back around to give you his full attention.

You briefly wonder who exactly is looking over this section of the beach when both lifeguards are currently distracted on the sand.

“Huh, okay. I’m Mingyu.” He takes a step closer to lean over and offers his hand to you.

Your gaze catches on the chain around his neck and the way it swings as he leans over. You want to reach out and grab it, yank him down and defile the beach together. But that would get you arrested, and you really don’t want that. So, you lean up onto your knees to accept his hand to shake and tell him your name in return.

“Mm, pretty,” he hums, looking at you over the top of his dark sunglasses with a lopsided little smile. It feels flirty as fuck, but you don’t want to make assumptions that this beautiful man is interested in you.

“Oh, thank you.” You smile a little and take your hand back yet remain on your knees with your feet tucked comfortably under you as he straightens up. You can’t help but think about the fact that if he was a few feet closer, you’d be at face height with his dick and within reaching distance.

“You must really like the beach.”

“Huh?” You blink away the fantasy of slobbering all over Mingyu’s cock and seeing how pretty he looks when he cums down your throat, or maybe on your face; that’d be nice too.

“I said you must really like the beach; I’ve seen you here almost every day for almost a month now.”

“You noticed me?” you mutter in shock.

“Uhm.” Mingyu rubs the back of his neck awkwardly; his confident stance melting away as his shoulders curve in and make him appear smaller, embarrassed. Cute. “I–It’s my job. To notice things. People. You know. To ma–make sure people are safe.”

“I see.” You hum and tilt your head a little without even noticing; amused and endeared by him. As if he isn’t already attractive enough just by existing; talking to him and realising he’s got this cute, shy side definitely draws you in further.

“Y–yep!” He laughs awkwardly and straightens to his full height again while putting his hands on his hips. “Well, I should get back to it. Nice to meet you!” And then he rushes off before you can even respond, leaving you watching him scuttle off and almost trip over a stray sandal in the sand, making you snicker. Mingyu flails to right himself, and then immediately looks over at you to see if you noticed. Realising that you had definitely seen him almost faceplant the sand, he gives an awkward, embarrassed little wave before turning and rushing off, quickly putting his face in his palms as he goes.

And just like that, the beach gets that much more interesting.

It’s a handful of days before you return to the beach; you had been busy with work, unfortunately, so you simply hadn’t had the time or energy to take the trip.

“I’m gonna dig a giant fucking hole today,” your best friend declares as you both put down your items in your usual spot and start to set up.

“To bury me? Work killed me, babe,” you retort dramatically.

“Please don’t bury bodies on the beach,” the unexpected male voice makes you jump and look over. To your surprise, a dripping wet Mingyu is standing a little behind you. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you reply dumbly, doing your utmost to not ogle his shimmering chest, or the flex of his bicep as he lifts a hand to run his fingers through his wet hair to stop the salty water dripping over his face.

You’re, once again, very glad for tinted sunglasses.

“You’re wet,” your best friend comments, making you both look at her where she’s standing and looking between you both over the top of her sunglasses— you’re very certain she’s lowered them down her nose just to give you both this very pointed look.

“I was teaching a kid to swim, of course I’m wet.” Mingyu chuckles, motioning over his shoulder with his thumb in the direction of the sea behind him.

“Wasn’t talking to you.” Your best friend gives you a final look before pushing her sunglasses back up into place. “I’ll leave you to set up, I have places to be.” With that, she turns and walks off in the direction of the snack carts and shacks further down the beach, leaving you and Mingyu alone.

You appreciate that; the alone time with the attractive man, but what you don’t appreciate is having to set up on your own. “She could’ve at least opened the parasol first,” you mutter to yourself while looking at the giant umbrella in disdain.

“I can help!” Mingyu offers, bounding forward before you can even answer, to pick up the umbrella from the sand, biceps flexing as he moves. “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you reply without thought. He hums in understanding, even if he doesn’t truly understand; because you were definitely thinking about where you want him to rail you when you answered, not where you want the parasol set up. Still, Mingyu sets the parasol up and it is in the right place, so you find no reason to correct yourself, and instead thank him and get to work setting up the mat.

To your pleased surprise, Mingyu sticks around to help you finish setting up everything, making friendly conversation as he goes and smiling brighter every time he makes you laugh.

You wish he would keep you company for longer but his walkie-talkie crackles to life and announces that he’s needed, so he leaves you with a smile, and waves at you when he looks over his shoulder after jogging a little away.

It makes you feel all warm inside; how he seems to be genuinely interested in being near you. You just hope that it doesn’t take another three weeks before he decides to make a move if he plans to. You’re not confident enough yourself to make that move; you’d be utterly mortified if you’ve read this all wrong and he’s just being a genuinely nice guy who goes above and beyond for his job.

So, you just settle down with a new book and hold that hope next to that sun shining in your chest.

“This is perhaps the dumbest idea we’ve had and gone through with,” your best friend comments as the two of you stand ankle-deep in the sea with the rented surfboards ready for your lesson, and one of the two men who run the surf supply shack.

“You signed us up,” you point out, both of you watching the man in question as he removes his t-shirt on the shore to toss at his co-worker, who rolls his eyes.

You know the co-worker personally, but more because he somehow knows your best friend. His name is Joshua, and he, according to your bestie, has purposely set up this lesson with his co-worker, Seungcheol, because Joshua owes her for something or other. Honestly, you long ago stopped trying to keep track of the shenanigans of your bestie. Wisely too.

“Sorry about that, Shua had to tell me something,” Seungcheol apologises as he walks over to join you two, sans surfboard of his own, confusing you, but you don’t point it out.

“Sounds ominous,” you declare.

“No.” He chuckles, and motions to your best friend, who points at herself with wide eyes on view thanks to her sunglasses currently being propped on Joshua’s head so that they don’t get lost to sea, while yours are with your belongings. “Shua said you have really bad balance, so I should probably hold onto you.”

“Terrible balance,” your best friend agrees seriously without missing a beat, even if you know she’s lying at least a little.

It takes everything in you to not burst into laughter. Clearly, Joshua is very aware that your bestie has been thirsting over his co-worker since she first saw him. Admittedly, you have been too, but most of your attention has been on Mr. Hunky Lifeguard, now officially known as Mingyu.

“Okay, so is it alright if I hold onto you to help?” Seungcheol checks, expression giving away that he truly has no idea that this is some kind of a set-up and is genuinely just concerned for his student’s safety.

“Full consent to touch me however you want,” your best friend agrees, making Seungcheol smile, entirely missing the depravity hiding in her words.

You have to look away to take a few breaths to calm yourself before you break, and happen to notice Mingyu up on the watchtower deck looking through his binoculars. You can’t be certain, but it looks like he’s got them pointed in your direction. You don’t want to be delusional, so convince yourself that even if he is, he’s not focused on you specifically.

Spoiler, he definitely is.

“Alright.” Seungcheol claps his hands together, making you jump a little, turn back to him, and catch his adorable gummy smile. “Let’s get this lesson started, shall we ladies?”

Honestly, the lesson with Seungcheol goes a lot better than expected; he takes it very seriously and pays careful attention to you both. You hadn’t expected to get anywhere close to standing on the board in the water, but with his careful guidance— even with his hands hovering around your friend to aid her oh so terrible balance if need be—, you get your feet under you.

After a few more tries, you manage to get almost entirely upright, while Seungcheol and your friend cheer you on supportively. And then, you make a giant fucking mistake.

Before you’re even upright, you lift your head just enough to peer around naturally, and notice Mingyu in all his topless, red short glory jogging along the beach, looking like everything out of a Baywatch themed porno with his pecs bouncing with fucking every step. And as if that’s not bad enough, the man clearly is packing something very special in his shorts, because you notice that bouncing too.

Next thing you know, you’re toppling into the water so suddenly that you inhale in shock a second before you hit the sea’s surface, allowing salty water to pour into your open mouth and trickle into your lungs. It’s barely a second that you’re under the water before a strong arm is around your waist and heaving you up into the air while you sputter, panic starting to seize your body.

“Move!” You hear as you’re laid down on the sand by the strong arms, though the voice is coming from elsewhere.

“I can handle this, Gyu,” this voice is right over you; the owner of the arms, and you vaguely register it as Seungcheol, but you’re too busy coughing up seawater to open your eyes or give him or the other man any attention.

“I’ve got it, Cheol,” Mingyu assures. There’s a heavy sigh, and then those strong hands leave your body, and you feel Seungcheol back away while other hands touch you gently, helping to remain on your side. “That’s it, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” Mingyu’s voice is soft and soothing where he’s hovering over you in concern with one hand rubbing over your arm and the other pushing your hair back.

Luckily, the whole ordeal only lasts a handful of minutes, and then you’re okay, breath stuttered and throat a little sore, but fine otherwise.

When you roll onto your back and open your eyes, you find Mingyu right there, leaning over you and backlit by the sun he’s purposely blocking from shining right in your eyes. Like your own personal guardian angel. Or something more poetic.

You can be given a break from being unable to wax poetic about this beautiful specimen of humanity before you, considering what you’re going through. And no, not the just inhaling seawater thing. But the whole, he’s leaning over you topless with that damn silver chain dangling inches from your face, thing. Just a little closer and you could bite it.

You wonder if he’d find that weird. Probably. You still want to do it though.

“Hey.” He gives you a tender kind of smile when you lift your eyes from his chain to meet his relieved, soft gaze. “You okay?” You just nod, pretty sure you’d say something highly inappropriate if you open your mouth.

“I dunno, I think she might need you to watch over her, Mr. Lifeguard,” Your best friend speaks up. You peer at her from the corner of your eyes and find her standing beside Seungcheol with a little smirk on her face as she looks between you and Mingyu. “Maybe you should take her up to the watchtower and keep a close eye on her, just in case.”

“She doesn’t need that,” Seungcheol points out simply, definitely unaware that your friend is trying to set up a situation for you and the man you’ve been thirsting over for weeks.

“No, no, she’s right,” Mingyu argues quickly as he shakes his head and turns to you to help you sit up and then get to your feet to stand with him. “I should definitely keep a close eye on her, she almost drowned, Cheol–”

“She’s fine,” Seungcheol’s mutter is neither heard nor considered as Mingyu continues to talk over him as if the man said nothing.

“So, I’ll take her to the watch tower for a while until she’s feeling all better, sounds okay?” He looks at you. You just nod.

“Make her feel all better, Mr. Lifeguard,” Your bestie encourages with a nod and thumbs up. Mingyu returns it, though you’re not certain he actually gets what your friend is insinuating, but you don’t really care. Whether he understands or not, you’re getting alone time with Mingyu and that’s all that matters. Bless your bestie for always trying to get you laid.

As you walk up the stairs to the watchtower, Mingyu walks a few steps behind you with a hand on your lower back gently, the same place it has been since the two of you started to walk across the sand. It’s still there when he opens the door and you two enter the building.

“Hey,” Vernon, the lifeguard your bestie apparently befriended the other day, greets upon looking over from where he’s sitting at the control desk facing the large windows that oversee the beach. “Oh,” he mutters, eyes widening a little as he looks between you and Mingyu, clearly taking in the sight of the tall man’s hand on your back. “You know, I think I’m going to go get some air for a bit.”

“Okay,” Mingyu agrees, giving Vernon a grateful look as the shorter man vacates the building without even grabbing his walkie-talkie from the desk.

At Mingyu’s gentle nudge, you move further into the building, allowing him to shut the door.

“I’ll grab you a towel,” he declares, moving over to the cupboards while you decide to check out the view from the window.

From here you can see the entire section of the beach, especially when you pick up the binoculars Vernon left on the desk and peer through them. It’s pretty interesting; being able to watch over everyone like this and see everything while they no doubt don’t even consider the eyes on them from above.

“Can they see us?” you wonder, lowering the binoculars to look at Mingyu as he approaches with a towel in hand.

“I mean, sure, if they try hard enough at other times of day; but the sun is in the right position to just reflect on the glass at the moment. So right now, no, nobody can see us,” he informs, stopping perhaps a little closer than necessary. Paired with the information that nobody would even see if he fucked you right against the window, heat flares in your stomach.

“Have you tested that?”

“Mm, a few times.”

“How?”

Mingyu tilts his head a little at you, and as you haven’t accepted the towel, too focused on the conversation, he puts it down on the desk and gently takes the binoculars from your hands to also put down. “What do you mean, how? By looking up from outside.”

“Right.” You hum and turn your head to look back out of the window.

“What were you expecting?” He chuckles lowly. You feel him move a little closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his bare chest against your left arm. “Hm?” You shrug. “Tell me.”

“Just…you know.” You shrug again, and although you can barely feel it through the wet material of the rash guard on your torso, the gentle press of his fingers on your back makes you shiver a little.

“You should get out of this and dry off,” he suggests while running his right hand up the length of your back and around your neck to the zipper in the middle of your throat.

“I might need some help getting it off,” you reply. “Things being wet makes things harder.”

“Oh, I know.” You’re very certain that you’re both talking in double entendre now and look at him over your shoulder as you turn your back to him a little more to give him better access without having to reach around you so much.

For a weighted moment, nothing happens, just heavy eye contact as if you’re both waiting for the other to take a step backwards and prove your suspicions of the rising tension between you to be false.

Yet, you both stay in place.

You feel a slight tug against your neck, barely noticeable, but it makes your body burn a little hotter as he slowly tugs down the zipper to your clavicle before stopping.

“Face me,” he mutters, adjusting his own stance to fully face you. You immediately comply and turn so that you’re face to face, all without him removing his grip on the pull of your zipper.

Then he’s back to dragging the zip down, over your breasts, where his knuckles brush a little, making your breath catch, before his hand moves on to finish the path to open the zip all the way to where it stops at your belly button.

Mingyu only then breaks eye contact to look down at the glimpse of skin he can see now with the zipper open. “This is a one piece?” he checks, noticing how the material of the rash guard vanishes into your shorts. You hum in confirmation, and then he’s lowering to his knees in front of you to tuck his fingers into the waistband of your shorts.

He glances up at you, checking that this is okay, and when you nod, he gives you a little smile before turning his full attention back down to watch the shorts move down your thighs with the help of his hands.

“Can you–” he starts once you’ve stepped out of the shorts and he’s tossed them aside, but when he looks up at you, you’re already working on pulling the front of your rash guard open, revealing your chest little by little, covered only by the little bikini you bought specifically to wear with the rash guard. “That.” Mingyu swallows thickly, watching more skin get revealed until you start to struggle to get the wet material down your shoulders. Without a word, Mingyu gets up onto his knees as tall as he can without standing up, to reach out and grip the material to ease it over your shoulders and down your arms. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, hands bunching the wet material by your hips as he stops to take in all the exposed skin only a few feet from his face.

“So’re you,” you reply shyly.

He smiles up at you then leans forward to press a featherlight kiss to your stomach. “This okay?” he asks in between kisses on your skin; each growing more daring than the last.

“Y–yeah,” you agree, feeling breathless already and nothing has happened yet. The tension is just so thick between you that it fills your lungs and takes up space usually reserved for oxygen.

For a moment, you worry that if you’re this breathless already with just a couple of kisses to your stomach, you will not survive actually being fucked by this beautiful man. But then his lips are suddenly on the crease of your thigh, right at the edge of the rash guard and moving inwards, and you can no longer worry about the future state of your lungs.

Mingyu quickly tugs the rash guard off of you entirely and tosses it aside carelessly once you’ve stepped out of it, leaving you in just the skimpy little bikini that leaves very little to the imagination. “Fuck,” he breathes out, leaning back to take you in from head to toe, then back again. “So, fucking beautiful, baby.”

“Mingyu,” your voice is a soft little plea as you reach towards him, for what exactly, you’re not sure; you just want something and hope he gets the hint. He does, and tilts forward to lean his cheek against your palm for a second, then plants a kiss there, tender despite the heavy moment.

“Lean back, baby,” he encourages, leading you by your hips to turn and take a step back until the edge of the desk is digging into the meat of your ass.

You grip the desk edge on either side of you as he hitches one of your legs up onto his shoulder, then lean back as his free hand tugs aside the seat of your panties to allow him to get straight to work dragging his tongue up your pussy. The noise Mingyu lets out overpowers your own; he sounds like he’s tasted the nectar of the fucking gods or something equally as divine. Hearing him so immediately into eating your pussy only makes you more aroused and attracted to him in general.

You’ve heard of men eating pussy like a man starved before, but you’ve never experienced it until now. Mingyu truly gives it his all; holds you open and drags his tongue and lips over you with desperation, and an intensity that has your legs shaking; a constant stream of moans spilling from your mouth almost in time with the grunts and needy moans vibrating through his lips against you.

“Gyu,” you breathe out, tangling the fingers of one hand in his hair and encouraging him to stay on your clit. He groans at the slight tug on his scalp and redoubles his efforts, sucking and licking at your clit hungrily.

Your eyes are closed, entirely absorbed in the toe-curling sensations this man is giving you in spades, but when his hand touches yours on his head, you open your eyes to peer at him curiously. He’s looking at you, eyes so blown with arousal that you’re very certain you leak over his chin even more.

Mingyu doesn’t stop suckling your clit between his lips in a steady pattern that has you so fucking close to a beautiful climax. It won’t be long until you fall over the edge into bliss. He removes your hand from his head and directs it between your thighs to make you curl your fingers around the seat of your bikini bottoms and hold them aside out of his way.

Then, those same fingers that had just curled your own are prodding at your entrance. He hesitates though, staring up at you for permission until you rapidly nod, and then he’s plunging two right into you, made easy from how fucking wet you are.

Just like that, an orgasm hits you so suddenly and powerfully that you don’t manage to do anything, no warning, no sound from your mouth as it rushes through your body, making your eyes roll and back arch.

Mingyu feels you clamp down around his fingers and groans deeply as his own eyes threaten to roll back despite not being close to orgasm himself. Just knowing you’re cumming because of him, because of his mouth, on his fingers; it drives him insane and makes his cock throb.

Diligently, Mingyu works you through the pleasure pulsing through you, slowing down when your hips start to twitch, and then reluctantly detaches his mouth from your clit when you nudge his head with a slightly shaky hand. Though, he doesn’t go far, and instead, pushes your thigh a little further open to give his head more space to get next to his hand between your thighs, and noisily slurp up every single drop that spills from your pussy. He even goes as far as to lick up the line that dribbled down his hand to his wrist.

“Gyu,” the call of his name makes him lift his head to look at you with wide eyes, looking so innocent despite his mouth and chin being soaked in your juices, all the way down to his throat. The sight and reminder of how hard he just made you cum has you unintentionally squeezing around the fingers still buried to the knuckles within you.

He groans, tilting forward and opening his mouth ready to make you see stars all over again, but you quickly put your hand to his head, palm to his forehead to hold him back. “Lemme eat your pussy, baby, prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen. Most delicious pussy ever. Could eat you forever. Let me. Please?” He’s got a slight slur to his words as he speaks, voice pitched higher than normal as he begs in a tone verging on a whine.

“D–don’t you want to fuck me?” you ask, words a slight pant still, too soon from the intense orgasm to have your breath back, but you don’t care. He can steal all the breath from your lungs as long as he makes you cum like that.

“Fuck you?” he repeats dumbly. You nod, and then it’s like a switch has been flipped. All of the innocent pussy-drunk expression and voice vanishes in an instant as his eyes turn heavy-lidded, and his lips turn up into a smirk. “Yeah? Want me to fuck you, sweetheart?” His fingers in you start to move, making you jolt a little in surprise, and reach down to try and remove them. “No, no, no, you gotta take my fingers first, baby. Need to show me you can take them before I give you my cock, okay? This is such a pretty pussy; I don’t want to ruin it by giving you my cock before you’re ready.”

You can’t really say anything in response, both from his words and the way he’s skilfully moving those two fingers in you; slow but pressing in all the right ways to stretch you out and drag all ability to form anything but pathetic moans from your parted lips.

“That’s it, good, just take it. You can take it for me, right, baby?” You nod quickly at his words. “Can you take another finger?” Another nod, so he pulls his fingers out most of the way to work a third in beside them. “That’s my girl, fuck,” he breathes out, watching the way your pussy opens around his fingers as he carefully feeds the digits into you.

It doesn’t take much longer for Mingyu to pull his fingers out of you and get up to his feet. You barely have time to react before he has your hips in his hands and spins you to face the window. The sun is right in your face like this, lessened in power by the window yet still an annoyance, so you lean over all the way down onto your elbows and rest your forehead on your forearms.

“Oh,” Mingyu breathes out, watching you bend over the desk, and stops his task of shoving down his swimming shorts to free his leaking cock. “Fucking perfect,” he approves, and gives you a quick spank to watch your asscheek wobble with the impact. He hadn’t expected the moan that tumbles from your lips and pauses for a moment as he considers spanking you until your ass is raw and there are imprints of his hands left on your skin like a claim.

But then his cock twitches desperately, and he gets back to work shoving his shorts down enough and taking his thick, heavy cock into his hand to run his hand up and down the length, spreading precum over his heated skin while his free hand tugs your bikini bottoms aside.

A breathless curse spills from his lips when he aligns his cock with your dripping hole. He wants to bury himself to the hilt in your warmth right away, but he’s very aware that, frankly put, he has a giant cock, so he needs to take it slow to not hurt you.

As soon as the head pops into you, you’re moaning and trying to push back for more. Mingyu has to take a firm hold of your ass cheek and push you forward against the edge of the desk to stop you moving too fast. If you keep it up, he will fuck into you without hesitation, and he’s already trembling with the effort of holding back.

Little does he know; you want him to fucking ruin you. You want him to fuck you so hard and deep that you can’t take a step for the next few days without thinking of his cock splitting you open. But you don’t have the brain power to make your tongue move to form that specific string of syllables, so you’re forced to just remain pinned to the desk as he feeds you inch by thick inch of his cock at an almost agonisingly slow pace.

By the time his hips are pressed up against your ass, he’s shaking with his eyes squeezed tightly closed, and both hands gripping your hips so tightly you just know there will be bruises in the shape of his fingers afterwards. Bruises you’ll wear proudly.

“Fuck, baby, this fucking pussy,” he groans as you pulsate around his throbbing length.

He needs a moment; needs more than one really, with how fucking close he already is to filling you with his cum, but you press back against him as best as you can considering his grip. It’s barely any movement, but he gets the hint; you really don’t want him to wait anymore and fuck, neither does he.

Mingyu slowly pulls his hips back, sliding half of his length out of you before sliding back in in the same slow, careful manner. He’s testing the waters; the give of your pussy, and his own resolve, really. And all three give so fucking easily that the next time he pulls out, it's all the way until only his tip is tucked up safely inside of you before he thrusts forward harshly, making you cry out and scramble to brace a palm against the window above your head blindly.

“That’s it, hold on, baby,” he encourages with a heavy exhale as he adjusts his footing and hold on you, before he starts to fuck you like a man possessed.

It’s hard, and fast, and so fucking deep that he’s hitting places within you that you didn’t even fucking know existed before his cock found them. Or maybe they’re special places his cock is carving out, and no one will ever be able to access them again. No one will make your mind blank and eyes roll back so far that all you see is the mental image of Mingyu’s giant cock wrecking your pussy in the best of ways.

You’re being loud, both of you; moaning and whining with every drag of his cock through your rapidly tightening walls. But neither of you care, neither of you have the presence of mind to consider anything but the way it feels to fuck and be fucked like this.

At this point, you’re so close to another incredible orgasm that you wouldn’t even care if the door opened; you probably wouldn’t even notice, and honestly, neither would Mingyu.

When Mingyu tilts forward enough to wind a strong arm under your waist to press his palm against the flat of your chest and pull you up until your back is against his bare, sweat-dappled chest, you almost scream in pleasure at the new, somehow deeper, spot he’s grinding into.

There’s a little part of Mingyu that’s still aware that you’re in public and his place of work, even if he’s not consciously aware of it, and that part of him is the reason his hand flies up from your chest to your throat and squeezes in the exact way to cut off your airflow.

It’s the last nudge you need to hurtle into the single most mind-shattering, nirvana-inducing, orgasm of your fucking life. At least so far, because once you’re more coherent, you’ll definitely think about how much you want him to fuck you again in all sorts of ways.

A choked, cut off moan spills from Mingyu’s mouth when you clamp down around his cock so tightly as your pussy absolutely gushes around him, that it sends him over too. His hand on your hip quickly moves, sliding around over your lower stomach to wrap his arm around your waist and hold you tight as he ruts into you and fills you with his cum.

It feels fucking endless; the length of your orgasm and how much it takes out of you, even though it truly doesn’t last that long. It’s just an all-encompassing feeling that feels like utter bliss; a never-ending pulse of pleasure; pure fucking serenity.

“You okay?” Mingyu manages to breathe out once his cock has stopped twitching as your throbbing walls milk him for every drop of cum in his body. His chest is heaving against your back, matching the deep rise and fall of your own chest, even if he had released the pressure on your throat as soon as his cock started to empty in you.

You can’t respond yet; you’re not quite back on planet Earth, making Mingyu chuckle a little, fond of you already, and cocky at his own abilities to fuck you so dumb like this.

Carefully, he draws his hips back to slide out of you with a wince and hears the splatter of cum hitting the wooden boards. But that’s a problem for after he’s looked after you.

Mingyu is so fucking gentle as he grabs the towel from the desk and uses it to clean between your thighs as best as he can without removing his arm from around you to keep you propped up. Then he manoeuvres you onto the wooden chair on your right, before getting to his knees to spread your legs wide once he’s between them with his knees pressed to the floorboards.

For a few seconds, he just stares dumbly at the sight of his cum leaking out of your swollen pussy, and he almost leans in to clean you up with his mouth, but you’re already so out of it that he figures he better not. He’ll save that for next time.

Fuck, he really fucking hopes there’s a next time.

You come back to reality when Mingyu is doing his best to slide your shorts back up your legs.

“Hey, beautiful,” he greets you when he notices you moving slightly and looks up to see you blinking down at him. “How you feeling?”

“Like I had the life fucked out of me,” you reply, giving him a sated, borderline dopey smile that makes him laugh. You reach out to him, and he happily leans up to let you run your hands over his shoulders and to his neck, so that you can tug him in and kiss him.

He sighs in contentment as your lips move together, slowly like you have all the time in the world. Like there’s nothing that either of you would rather be doing than this right here.

“Should’ve kissed you earlier,” he murmurs when you both naturally pull apart for air and he rests his forehead against yours. “Sorry, got carried away.”

“There’s no need to apologise, seriously, that was…” You trail off and just giggle instead, fingers playing with his hair near his nape.

“It was,” he agrees with a chuckle, and leans back to look at you. “Could we maybe do that again?”

“Now?” you baulk.

“No, not now.” He giggles. “I really can’t do that again now; I think I’ll pass out if I try to do anything like that now,” he assures, squeezing your thighs a little where his hands lay. “But another day in the future, when we’ve both recovered.”

“That sounds much more reasonable to me.”

“Reasonable, huh?” he teases, and nips at your cheek playfully, making you giggle. “And what about a date? Does that sound reasonable to you?”

“No.” Mingyu’s face drops so fast as he looks at you. He looks pretty heartbroken, honestly. “I didn’t mean no as in no to the date!” you rush to assure, cupping his cheeks, and brushing your thumbs soothingly over his skin.

He pouts and pushes into your hold. “Then what do you mean?”

“Just that it doesn’t sound reasonable but very nice and something I would definitely love to do.”

“Oh.” He turns into your palm to try and hide the cute, happy, little smile that lifts his mouth and exposes his teeth, but you feel it. He presses a kiss to your palm before facing you again, no longer hiding his smile. “Good, good; I’m glad you’d love to. I’d love to as well. Maybe after my shift ends, we can get lunch? Well, we’d have to take Vernon too, and I guess your friend, but they can entertain each other at another table.”

You giggle and nod in agreement. “Sounds perfect to me.”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Mr. Min Part Four: Photos and Family - M.YG

🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader. 🎶What: Fluff. Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Child Taehyung. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu. Model Mingyu. Photographer reader. 18+. 🎶Word count: 2k 🎶Warnings: Autistic/ ADHD child Taehyung. This one is really just a cute lil family moment, ft. photographer assistant Seokmin! Mentions of past stalking. Yoongi isn’t in this chapter, so he’s not mentioned in the “what” section, but it’s still a Yoongi story! The 18+ warning is because the series overall is 18+, so I’m applying it to every chapter regardless of content. 🎶Summary:

Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

My general masterlist

🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.

For the first time in at least six years, you and Mingyu have agreed to work together— on a shoot for a Japanese fashion magazine. And for the first time, Taehyung is going to see you both at work.

After leaving Hawaii, the three of you head straight to Japan. You get a day to adjust to the change in time and scenery before you’re due for work.

Taehyung is both excited and nervous as he walks between the two of you, holding both of your hands, ear defenders already on, and his backpack on Mingyu’s shoulder. The little boy has always wanted to see you both work, especially Mingyu; Taehyung has at least seen you take photos for various reasons, though never for work, but he’s never seen Mingyu model. Unless the man playfully posing as Taehyung takes his photo on your phone, or as they make silly faces together for selfies, counts. You’re pretty sure it doesn’t.

Thankfully, you and Mingyu have already warned everyone due on the shoot that Taehyung will be present; you both made a point of informing them that Taehyung will get overwhelmed easily, so everyone needs to give him space and keep the noise to a minimum. So, despite the room being bustling with various people rushing around to get everything ready— and many clearly looking over at the adorable little boy in a matching outfit with his dad— nobody approaches unless absolutely necessary.

Almost as soon as the three of you are at your station— where your assistant is already waiting with all of the equipment that he’s brought over from South Korea for you— the head stylist appears and urges Mingyu away. Of course, Mingyu doesn’t let himself get immediately dragged away and makes a point of kissing Taehyung’s head where the boy is sitting on a chair beside the table you’re standing at, before the man leaves to another part of the room to get ready.

“Hey, Tae,” Seokmin, your assistant says as he crouches in front of your son’s chair, while you look over the plan for the shoot and decide which camera and lens to start with. You glance over and smile softly, noticing Seokmin handing Taehyung a snack.

Seokmin is a relatively new assistant really; your previous one— the same one you had since you started fashion photography— moved on years ago when you gave up the majority of your work for the sake of your family. Seokmin came along a few years ago, when you took up a fashion job for the first time since Taehyung was born. You had needed an assistant for the first time in a while, to arrange your station and hand you whatever you ask for in order to keep the shoot moving smoothly without you having to stop work to change camera or lens whenever you need a different kind of shot.

You hadn’t been convinced Seokmin would be a good fit for you at first, he seemed very nervous, but you quickly found out that it was because he admired your work and still couldn’t believe you picked him out of all applicants to work with. But he very quickly proved himself as he locked in once the shoot started and only let his nerves show again once you declared it over.

Ever since, you’ve always reached out to him when you need an assistant. So, although you don’t work with him that much, you’ve come to know one another well. He’s even been to your house many times for work purposes, that inevitably turn into dinners and him playing with Taehyung, utterly enamoured with your son. You may be incredibly biased, but you can’t blame him at all.

“Minnie,” Taehyung replies, smiling happily at the man, and accepts the snack. “What this?”

“It’s potato sticks,” he informs, and opens the lid of the tub. “I know you like this flavour in other snacks, but it might be different, so if you don’t like it, it’s okay, I’ll finish them, or your dad will,” he jokes with a cheeky grin that makes Taehyung giggle.

As Taehyung carefully takes the first stick from the pot, you watch for his reaction. He sniffs it for a moment then nibbles on one end. He makes a thoughtful sound, then his feet start to bounce at the edge of the chair, and he eats more enthusiastically. Seokmin smiles at the clear approval and pats Taehyung’s leg before he gets up and returns to your side to discuss the plan with you.

Throughout the shoot, everyone unnecessary keeps out of the room at your say so. You know Taehyung won’t be able to sit still for long, so you want him to have the freedom to wander around to prevent him getting restless from being confined to one spot or overwhelmed by all the strangers and bustle. Though most of the time, he hovers by your side and watches in awe as you take photos of his dad, both of you moving with very little verbal direction.

Mingyu knows his best angles and how to show off the clothes and accessories on his body, and you know Mingyu and trust his understanding of his own body and lighting. Of course, Mingyu doesn’t lead the entire shoot, you do move into different positions contrary to how he poses; but he also trusts you and your creative skills and doesn’t try to adjust according to you, just continues to pose as normal and knows you’ll get incredible shots of your own accord.

When Mingyu is in his last outfit change and you’re pretty sure you’ve got everything you really need— and are just taking safety shots just in case more are needed than initially stated—, you call Taehyung over.

“Want to take some photos of daddy?” you ask, noticing Mingyu light up from the corner of your eye, especially as Taehyung nods enthusiastically.

“Clean hands first!” Taehyung declares, knowing he’s not allowed to touch your cameras unless he’s got freshly cleaned hands. Without missing a beat, Seokmin appears with wipes and helps Taehyung clean his hands.

“I’m here to assist you, Mr. Kim!” Seokmin declares, making Taehyung giggle. “Which camera and lens would you like to work with?” he offers, motioning to the table.

“Mm,” Taehyung says and toddles over, tapping his chin with his index finger thoughtfully; you can’t help but take photos of the scene, it’s so cute. “That one,” he decides, pointing to a film camera that you so rarely use, but always have ready in case the moment calls for it.

“Right away, sir,” Seokmin agrees and grabs the camera to set up and adjust the neck strap shorter before putting it around Taehyung’s neck. “There you go, it’s all ready for you.”

“Thank you!” Taehyung chirps, then bounces back to you. “I can do photos now?”

“Of course, baby. Take as many as you want and we’ll get them developed back home,” you assure. “We’ll get a photo album to put them all in too.”

“With stickers?”

“Of course!” you agree, and he grins before turning to face Mingyu, where the man is still standing and smiling dopily.

“I do photos now, daddy!” he declares.

“Yay!” Mingyu cheers, then laughs when Taehyung takes a few photos of him with his arms raised excitedly. “Anything you want me to do?”

“Mm, sit down,” Taehyung decides and Mingyu doesn’t hesitate to lower to the floor cross legged. “Like this,” Taehyung says, sitting down himself and leans his elbow on his knee, side of his head on his fist and looking forward. Mingyu giggles, finding the boy so damn adorable, but follows his directions and grins at the camera as Taehyung gets up. “No smiley, daddy.”

“Oh, sorry, baby,” Mingyu says and does his best to school his expression.

Honestly, as you stay kneeled beside Taehyung, you think he has the right idea here and lift your own camera to also take photos of Mingyu. “Eyebrow,” you direct and Mingyu’s smile melts away as his expression turns a little cocky, eyebrow lifting teasingly, exactly how you want.

“Eyebrow,” Taehyung copies mindlessly in a mumble as he takes photos.

For the following almost twenty minutes, you let Taehyung lead, and you discover that your son really has an eye for this kind of thing. Many of his directions put Mingyu in new and interesting poses that aren’t commonplace in fashion magazines, but they’re quirky in the right kind of way to be perfect for this magazine. And the poses and positions that don’t work, you add your own directions to get them into something less plain weird, and more creative and appropriate for the job.

“And I think we’ve got everything!” you declare after looking at the playback of your own photos, unable to see how Taehyung’s have turned out yet.

“That is wrap!” Taehyung exclaims after taking a final photo of his playfully posing dad. You all laugh at the boy’s words before clapping and cheering a job well done in a more subdued way than usual, for the sake of Taehyung as he’s no longer wearing ear defenders.

“It was an honour to work with you, Mr. Kim,” Seokmin says dramatically as he kneels in front of Taehyung and shakes his hand, making the boy giggle. Seokmin carefully takes the camera, and Taehyung turns and darts over to his dad, where Mingyu is still sprawled on the floor and just watching with a soft smile. “He actually seems to have a really good eye for poses,” Seokmin comments as he gets up and joins you at your station to start packing up everything he can, while you take the memory cards used and put them in the bag with your laptop ready to review the photos later.

“He does, I was surprised by that,” you admit, and glance over at your son and his dad before turning back to your task. “At this rate, I think he’s going to be good at everything he tries.”

“Oh, that reminds me, did you find him a vocal coach?”

“No, the timings don’t suit his routines, or they have no experience with neurodiverse people, especially kids, and he deserves someone who will understand him.”

“Well, I know someone who might be a good fit,” he says, making you look at him curiously. “A friend from when I was in musical theatre; he does private vocal lessons, and he has an autistic niece and nephew.”

“You were in musical theatre?” you mutter dumbly, and he nods. “You’ve never told me that! What the fuck, Seok?”

“I uh…quit,” he says with an awkward expression. “I had a really bad experience, a group of stalkers, and the director told me to just suck it up and accept it as the compliment it is. I always meant to return, but I also love photography and have followed your career since, well…you were the reason I picked up a camera, so when I got the chance to work with you, it was like a dream come true.”

You just stare at him for a moment before putting down the items in your hands and moving over to hug him. He makes a surprised noise but quickly puts down the lens in his hands to return the embrace. “I am so sorry you had to go through that; you really don’t deserve that. Nobody does, but least of all you; you’re such a pure soul, Seokmin, and I’m so honoured that I have the chance to know you and see you grow as a photographer.” Seokmin sniffles and holds you tighter, hiding in your shoulder for a few moments as he breathes carefully, trying to prevent himself from crying.

When he steps back, he wipes away the few tears on his cheeks, tip of his nose already red, and a beautiful smile on his face. “Thank you, that really means a lot to me. I’m glad to know you too, and that you trust me with your family as well. That means so much to me.”

“Mm, of course, we all love you.”

“Ah.” He puts his hands over his pink cheeks and looks away shyly. “I love you guys too.”

“I think it’s about half past food time,” Mingyu declares as he approaches, carrying Taehyung and uncaring that he’s creasing the expensive fabric of his shirt. “Joining us for dinner, Min?”

“I will never say no to spending time with you guys,” Seokmin returns, then the three males cheer while you just laugh fondly at their antics.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

If you wish to be tagged in future parts, please refer to the bottom of the Mr. Min masterlist.

[cherry-zip]

— 𑣲Humkeng .ᐟ Kiss me

› pairing┆Fuma x K › genre┆fluff jealousy, romance, established relationship ✎ word-count .ᐟ 2k ⌁ summary┆Fuma’s gaming session might get cut short when a slightly jealous Kei starts craving his boyfriend’s attention. It only makes things worse when Fuma kisses him absentmindedly - without even looking away from his Switch.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated!

The first time it happens, Kei tells himself it’s nothing. He shouldn’t make a big deal out of this… but he just might.

It’s a late afternoon, the kind where sunlight comes in low and warm through the windows, turning everything soft gold. They’ve both had a long day, and the apartment is quiet now, except for the rapid, rhythmic clicking of buttons and the occasional burst of music and sound effects from Fuma’s Nintendo Switch.

Fuma has completely taken over the couch.

He was not just sitting—no, he was settled deeply into the couch. One leg is stretched out, the other hooked lazily over the armrest, head tipped slightly forward, brows drawn together in concentration. There’s his soft lips, forming a pout that only shows up when he’s focused like this, like the entire world has narrowed down to whatever’s happening on that small glowing screen.

Kei has been watching him for ten minutes.

Ten.Full.Minutes.

At first, it’s fond. It always is when he’s watching his sweet boyfriend. There’s something quietly endearing about how Fuma gets like this: so locked in, so unaware of everything else. His lips form a pout when focused and part slightly when things get intense, and every now and then, he makes tiny, absent sounds under his breath, reacting without even realising it.

It would be cute.

If Kei wasn’t sitting right there, next to him, completely ignored, and aching for attention.

He shifts slightly, letting his knee bump into Fuma’s.

No reaction.

Not even a glance. Even if he did feel it, he would never mind Kei bumping into him, no matter how hard. Being mad at Kei is impossible for him; he would instantly apologise, even if he was the one getting hit anyway.

Kei leans back into the couch, crossing his arms, staring at the side of Fuma’s face like maybe—maybe—if he stares hard enough, Fuma will feel it.

But no, nothing.

“Hey,” Kei says finally.

“Hm,” Fuma replies instantly.

That almost makes it worse.

Kei tilts his head. “You’ve been playing for a while.”

“Mm.”

That’s it.

No elaboration. No eye contact. Not even a break in the rhythm of his hands. Nothing but just a simple humming, meaning he definitely heard Kei speak, but didn’t register a single word.

Kei exhales slowly through his nose, jaw tightening. He uncrosses his arms, then crosses them again, shifting around on the sofa like he can’t quite get comfortable anymore, growing even more annoyed, frustrated as the second passes. He didn’t care anymore about what game he was playing or how cute he looked.

He wasn’t the type to be needy for skinship, but everything has been different ever since he met Fuma. He loved being taken care of by him more than anything, even though he was the older of the two. They love to pamper each other; it has become their thing, and right now, Kei really wants to be pampered.

“Are you even listening to me?” he asks.

“Yes,” Fuma says. It was immediate, automatic.

Kei’s eyes narrow. “What did I just say?”

There’s a pause for barely half a second.

“…You’re talking,” Fuma answers, completely sincere.

Kei stares at him in disbelief, mouth slightly agape.

“You’re unbelievable,” he mutters.

Fuma hums, clearly taking it as background noise rather than criticism. It wasn’t that he was addicted to his game - which he was - but he enjoyed his gaming time.

Another minute passed by.

Kei watches the screen this time, trying to figure out what could possibly be so engaging. Something fast-paced. Bright flashes. Quick movements. Dramatic music swelling and dropping. Fuma leans forward slightly, shoulders tensing, thumbs moving faster. His entire body reacts to it.

Kei’s irritation sharpens.

It’s ridiculous. It’s a game. A tiny screen. And somehow it has more of Fuma’s attention than he does right now. Maybe Kei was starting to be jealous of a game.. just maybe ?

Fine.

If that’s how it is, then Kei isn’t going to sit here quietly like some background decoration.

He shifts closer, deliberate this time by closing the gap until their shoulders are fully pressed together. He lets one of his legs rest over Fuma’s, solid and unmistakable. His whole body is touching him.

“Fuma.”

“Mm.”

Kei doesn’t hesitate.

“Kiss me.”

There’s no build-up. No questioning, he clearly hears him.

Fuma just turns his head slightly - still looking at the screen, and leans in, pressing a quick, soft kiss to Kei’s lips. It’s brief, automatic, almost absentminded.

All of this, to simply pull back to go back to his game.

Just like that.

Like nothing happened.

Like it was no different from pressing another button.

Kei freezes.

“…What,” he says slowly.

Fuma doesn’t respond. There’s a triumphant sound from the game, and his posture shifts forward again, completely reabsorbed.

Kei blinks.

He actually reaches up and touches his own lips, like maybe he imagined it.

“That does not count,” he says, more to himself than anything.

“Hm?” Fuma makes a questioning sound, but doesn’t look over.

“You didn’t even look at me.”

“I did,” Fuma says.

Kei lets out a short, incredulous laugh. “No, you didn’t.”

“I know where your face is,” Fuma replies simply, as if this answer would settle it.

Kei stares at him, genuinely offended now. “That’s worse. That’s so much worse.”

Fuma shrugs faintly, adjusting his grip on the Switch. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“I can tell,” Kei says flatly.

There’s a tight feeling in his chest now - small, sharp, and annoyingly persistent. It’s not just that Fuma kissed him without looking. It’s how easy it was. How automatic, like it was another task that meant nothing to him.

Like Kei asked, and Fuma just… checked a box.

Done. Back to the game.

Kei leans back, arms crossed again, but this time there’s no comfortable settling into the couch. His gaze drifts back to Fuma despite himself, tracking every tiny movement.

The crease in his brow.

The way his lips press together when he’s concentrating.

The way he doesn’t look at Kei.

“…Unbelievable,” Kei mutters again, quieter this time.

He tells himself it doesn’t bother him.

But it absolutely does, more than he’d like to admit.

• ✧ •

The second time, Kei knows exactly what he’s doing.

It’s the next day: same couch, same position, same problem.

Fuma is once again completely absorbed, the glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes, his entire focus narrowed down to whatever high-stakes situation he’s in now. The sounds are different this time—sharper, faster—but the effect is exactly the same.

Kei barely even pretends to be patient. He wasn’t; he wanted attention, and he was about to get it one way or another. He leans against the armrest, watching his boyfriend openly now, chin propped in his hand. His gaze lingers - not soft this time, not fond.

Evaluating.

Testing.

“Fuma.”

“Mm.”

Kei’s lips press into a thin line.

“Kiss me.”

Again, immediate.

Fuma leans in without hesitation, presses another of his quick kisses to Kei’s mouth - just as brief, just as distracted, and pulls away in the same motion, attention snapping right back to the game.

As is Kei was a pause screen he can flick through.

Something in Kei snaps.

He reaches out and grabs Fuma’s chin before he can fully turn away, fingers firm, guiding his face back closer.

“Hey.”

That finally breaks through.

Fuma blinks, eyes shifting to Kei for the first time in what feels like forever. Twenty minutes? Longer?

“What?” he asks, genuinely confused.

Kei searches his face, like he’s trying to figure out if this is real. “Do that properly.”

Fuma frowns slightly, pouting. “I did.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“I kissed you.”

“Barely,” Kei shoots back. “You didn’t even look at me.”

Fuma glances down at the Switch, clearly aware of whatever is happening in the game, then back at Kei. There’s a flicker of hesitation, like he’s being pulled in two directions.

“I’m in a fight,” he says softly. He doesn’t want to fight with Kei, not now and never in their future together.

Kei lets go of his chin, leaning back just enough to put space between them. “Yeah, I noticed. It seems very important.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, thin but clearly there enough for him to get the hint.

Fuma’s eyes narrow slightly. “Are you mad?”

“No.”

“You sound mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Kei insists quickly, crossing his arms again. “You’re just… annoying.”

Fuma studies him more carefully this time.

Not a glance. Not a distracted acknowledgement.

Actually looking, reading his face - never without getting a reminder of how gorgeous Kei is. He was so lucky, he felt so lucky every day. But now, he focused on knowing where things went wrong and how to fix them.

“…Because I’m playing?” he asks slowly.

“Because you’re not paying attention,” Kei says.

“I am paying attention.”

“To that,” Kei replies, jerking his chin towards the Switch in annoyance. “Not to me.” Now he’s fully pouting in what seems like an adorably stubborn way.

There’s a pause.

Fuma looks down at the screen again, then back at Kei.

And this time, something shifts.

It’s subtle, but Kei sees it. The moment the pieces click into place.

“Oh…,” Fuma says quietly.

Kei immediately bristles. “What does that mean?”

Fuma’s mouth curves, just slightly into a soft smirky smile- not teasing, not mean. Understanding.

“You’re jealous.”

Kei’s entire posture stiffens. “I am not jealous of your game.”

Fuma raises an eyebrow.

“I’m not,” Kei repeats, heat slowly creeping up the back of his neck. “That’s ridiculous. Who would be jealous of a stupid game?”

Fuma doesn’t argue; he couldn’t help but find his lover adorably cute.

He just looks at him for another second, and then, very deliberately, lowers the Switch.

The sound cuts off mid-action. The sudden silence feels almost jarring.

Kei’s eyes flick to it, then back to Fuma. “What are you doing?”

Fuma doesn’t answer straight away. The gamer in him is a man of action more than words.

He shifts instead, closer, slow and intentional this time, until the space between them disappears. Their knees touch, then their shoulders, then there’s nowhere left for Kei to pretend there’s distance.

Kei’s breath catches slightly, but he doesn’t move. He had Fuma’s full attention, and he was now frozen. Fuma lifts a hand and cups his face.

Warm. Steady. Present.

Completely different from before.

Kei goes still.

“Fuma—”

This time, Fuma was already looking at him.

Really looking. His gaze is soft, focused—not a flicker of distraction anywhere. Like, Kei is the only one existing on earth now. Then he leans in, soft lips pressing against him.

The kiss is slow. Not rushed. Not automatic like it was previously. He fully meant it.

Intentional in a way that makes Kei’s chest tighten for an entirely different reason. Fuma’s hand stays against his cheek, thumb brushing lightly just under his eye as their lips meet. He lingers there, not pressing, not pulling—just there, present in it.

Kei feels it immediately, the difference.

The way Fuma isn’t halfway somewhere else.

The way he’s fully here.

With him.

Kei’s hand lifts without thinking, catching lightly on Fuma’s sleeve, like he’s anchoring him there.

When Fuma finally pulls back, it’s only by a fraction. Their foreheads almost touch, breaths mingling, the space between them still warm.

“Better?” Fuma murmurs, smiling softly.

Kei swallows, the earlier irritation dissolving into something softer, quieter.

“…Yeah,” he admits, nodding shyly.

Fuma’s lips curve into a small, knowing smile. “You’re definitely jealous.”

Kei rolls his eyes and slaps his arm, but there’s no real force behind it now. “Shut up.”

Fuma huffs a quiet laugh, thumb brushing once more along Kei’s cheek before he leans back slightly.

His gaze flicks, just briefly, towards the coffee table where the Switch sits.

“Can I finish that fight?” he says, almost tempting Kei on purpose to set him off. He was starting to enjoy this cute, jealous side of his boyfriend

Kei reacts instantly.

His hand tightens around Fuma’s sleeve, stopping him before he can even think about pulling away.

“No.” Kei’s reply is fast and short.

Fuma pauses, looking back at him, waiting for Kei to decide what he wants and say it.

Kei hesitates—just for a second—then speaks, softer this time, more honest:

“…Stay, please.”

There’s no teasing now. No edge. Just a quiet ask.

Fuma doesn’t even glance at the Switch again.

“Of course, baby,” he says simply.

And this time, when he leans back in, there’s nothing automatic about it at all. He takes Kei in his arms, letting him snuggle together comfortably in his embrace, ending the day with just each other and no distractions. Just them, hugging, kissing, and sweet-talking.

✧ feedback & reblog are highly appreciated! › anonymous review form & join my taglist

@ credits┆thank you @orbitondgtl for beta reading once again☆彡

‧₊ ᵎᵎ "CHERRY.zip" ⋅.*

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Choke - J.JK

✋Who: Jeon Jungkook (BTS) x female reader ✋What: Smut (18+). Best Friends to Lovers. ✋Word count: 6.5k ✋Warnings: Profanity. Dom reader x sub Jungkook, I guess. But they’re both really switches 😌. Reader wears lingerie. Kissing. Nipple play (male receiving). Marks (mentions of hickies and future bruises). Oral (male receiving). Fingering (female receiving). PIV sex. Unprotected sex. Brief discussion of protection/ birth control. Stuffing panties in mouth. Choking (male receiving). Multiple orgasms (female receiving). Dirty talk (Jungkook is a talker, okay.) Jungkook calls reader: baby, princess. Reader calls Jungkook: baby, babyboy, Kookie and other variations of his name. I think that’s it! ✋Summary:

When you were young, a little boy moved in next door. He was the same age as you, so, of course, your parents immediately decided that you and he needed to be friends. To the immense joy of both of your parents, the two of you got along great from the first moment, and a lifelong friendship with Jeon Jungkook started. As you grow up, you remain close, despite both of you being too busy with your own things to regularly meet up once you both move to the city. Still, you know that no matter what happens, Jungkook will always be your best friend. Even if other things change in pretty drastic ways.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I decided to entirely rewrite it move it over to here.

The day before your mother’s birthday, you find yourself in Jungkook’s passenger seat heading to your hometown.

Coincidentally, Jungkook’s father shares his birthday with your mother, so ever since your two families got close when you were little, there has always been a shared celebration. When you were little, your two families would trade out hosting a dinner for the two families, but as you grew, the celebrations turned into dinners out at restaurants, and even a week abroad one year. Though this year, it’s just a simple, low-key dinner at the two families’ mutual favourite restaurant.

When the sign for your hometown comes into view, Jungkook speaks up, muttering almost mindlessly, “I really hope they’re not going to do anything weird this time.”

“Like what?” you wonder, utterly clueless to what he could mean by “weird”.

“Don’t you remember last time we went home together?” You give him a quizzical look, which in turn makes him give you a brief look as if you’re crazy upon glancing at you and noticing your clueless expression. “They spent the whole weekend trying to get me to ask you on a date.”

“They were joking,” you respond immediately, scoffing and even rolling your eyes at the ridiculousness of his words. Yet all he needs to do is give you a very specific look for you to straighten up in slight alarm. “Right? It was just a joke.”

“No, it wasn’t a joke,” he replies with a sound that’s a weird mix between a sigh and a soft laugh. “They’ve been trying to set us up since puberty. Have you seriously never noticed?” Jungkook glances at you once more and just cackles at your dumbstruck expression, before he focuses on driving again, and thankfully, the topic is dropped there.

That doesn’t mean you stop thinking about it though.

Even while Jungkook is next door in his childhood home, tucked up in his childhood bed— like you are in yours—, you can’t stop thinking about it. That, apparently, your parents want the two of you to date.

For years now, you’ve always thought that they’re joking every time they say how well suited you are to one another; how well you look after each other while keeping one another in check; how cute your babies would be. In retrospect, that last one probably should’ve thrown up more flags than it did, but your naivety kept stomping them down.

It’s crazy how all it took was for a single look from Jungkook for you to realise the truth in what you thought were harmless jokes from your parents; you know that Jungkook would never lie to you about this.

In fact, the guy has never lied to you since you met as children. He’s always been entirely honest with you, even when you’ve wished he’d lie to protect your heart a little; it’s caused some fights between you, but in the end, he always makes it up and does everything he can to cheer you back up. Every single fight that’s happened between the two of you over the years has always ended fast, and in the same way; with the two of you curled up together, laughing and apologising profusely with tears running down both of your cheeks.

You think it’s probably impossible for you to stay mad at Jungkook, just like he can’t you. Even when he chose his, at the time, new friend Jimin over you only a few weeks into moving to the city and essentially stood you up for your weekly dinner date. Or the time you made sure he never confessed to the girl he liked in school, despite knowing that she liked him back. Similarly, the time when Jungkook told the guy you liked that you were regularly having wild, kinky sex with a married man, just so the guy would stay away from you.

Jungkook has always been, and will always be, the one person you know you’ll always have by your side. He’s your best friend, and you know that nothing can tear you apart.

And it just so happens that it all hits you during the dinner with both of your families present; how everything your parents have said about the two of you is right. You are well suited to one another, and you do look after one another like nobody else could. That when your mothers had teased you about being jealous of Jungkook’s ex, they were right. That when they suggested he broke up with her and dated you instead, a big part of you hoped he would.

Admittedly, you’ve never been immune to Jungkook’s charms, his looks, his dumbass goofy grin whenever he spots you after a week apart. You’ve always known you have feelings for him, but you’ve pushed them down so deep that you kind of tricked yourself into believing that’s just normal; that everyone gets butterflies when their best friend puts their arm around them; that counting down the hours until you see him again, is what everyone does with their best friend, even if it’s only been a day since you last saw one another.

When Jungkook excuses himself to the bathroom, you can’t help but watch him go, all these new— and not so new— revelations whirling in your mind, and looking at your relationship from a whole new light.

Dating Jungkook wouldn’t be bad at all, in fact, you think it’d be pretty fucking great. You just need to convince him of that. With that thought in your mind, you excuse yourself only a minute after him and rush to the restroom.

Utterly uncaring that you’re entering the man’s bathroom, you step inside confidently, shamelessly, and call out, “Kook.”

At the urinal with his back to you, Jungkook looks over at the call of his name, and immediately rolls his eyes upon spotting you, before turning his attention back to his business. “You really need to stop doing this.”

“Oh, like I haven’t seen you in more compromising positions,” you scoff, leaning against the sinks with your arms crossed over your chest in wait for him to be done. “I’ve literally had to hold you upright on the toilet while you threw up into a bucket and—”

“Whoa, okay, okay; no need to bring up history’s worst case of food poisoning.”

“Just saying.” You shrug, and watch his back as he zips up, flushes, then approaches the sink at your side to begin washing his hands.

“So, gonna tell me why you’re scaring men from coming in here?” he muses, chuckling a little as he glances at you briefly. “Two men have entered and left upon noticing you standing in here.”

You wave a careless, dismissive hand. “They can wait. I want to give my mother a good birthday gift.”

“You bought her that expensive jacket she’s wanted for years,” he reminds in a slight deadpan. “You saved all fucking year for it. What else could she even ask for?” He scoffs as he moves over to the paper towel dispenser to grab some and dry his hands.

“The thing she’s wanted since we hit puberty.” That makes Jungkook slow his movements until his hands are still, then he turns his head to look at you. You can tell he knows exactly what you’re referring to.

Still, it takes him a moment of staring at you in dumb disbelief before he responds. “Are you suggesting we get together?” You nod, and he cracks up laughing.

“I’m serious, Kook!”

“I know.” You pout at him, crossing your arms a little tighter as you sulk. Jungkook’s expression lifts into a cocky grin; he tosses the tissues into the bin without looking— which is admittedly, both impressive and attractive— before sauntering over to you. “Ask me nicely.”

“What?” you mutter dumbly, arms unfolding to drop to your sides.

“I’m not starting a relationship with you if that’s how you ask.”

“So… You’re agreeing?”

He raises an eyebrow while tilting his head slightly. “I don’t know; I can’t give an answer unless you ask.” He giggles when you whine and drop dramatically forward against his sturdy chest, his hands automatically coming up to hold your arms naturally. “Come on, it’s a simple question.”

“You’re a brat.”

“You want to date me,” he retorts without hesitation, too used to the quick paced verbal banter with you to ever falter.

You sigh. “True.” Determinedly, you straighten up and take his hands into yours— something that is completely normal between you, and even now, it feels nothing but natural despite the meaning changing— while he continues to grin at you, nothing but amused. The moment you put on a sweet smile, he snorts, and your face drops into an offended pout. “Hey!”

“I’m sorry!” He giggles. “You know I can’t take that smile seriously.”

“Fine,” you concede, knowing he’ll just keep laughing in your face if you try and pretend to be sweet any longer. Once you’ve relaxed your expression into a more natural one, he calms himself, then nods to show that he’s ready for you to continue. “Jeon Jungkook—” Immediately, he says your full name in response. “Don’t fucking interrupt!” you scold, nudging his stomach with your still connected hands. The muscle ridden fool doesn’t even sway, just sniggers while biting his lip to control his urge to interrupt you again. “You maybe wanna be my boyfriend?”

“I dunno, you wanna maybe ask it more confidently?” he teases.

“Fuck off, you’re mine now,” you declare firmly, and he doesn’t even try to argue.

Jungkook giggles at your words and lets go of your hands so that he can hold your face in his gentle yet secure touch. “You’re so romantic, baby.”

“Mmhmm,” you agree with a grin.

Jungkook’s lips curl up into a fond smile as he takes in your cute expression, before he leans in and kisses you softly. “Huh, so that’s what your lips feel like,” he murmurs, sounding pleased, as his fingers gently run through your hair. “I’ve always wondered.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me out?” you ask, confused, yet a bit offended that it took him this long to kiss you.

“Because you never showed interest in me.”

You give him a flat look. “I sabotaged every date you went on, Kook,” you point out in a deadpan tone.

“I thought that was just because I did it to you first.”

“I mean, that was part of it,” you agree with a nod. “And I tried telling myself that was the only reason but, I like you, I’ve always liked you. I’ve just been too much of a wimp to admit it to myself.”

Your confession makes Jungkook’s expression turn unbelievably soft. “I tried to deny it, but I’ve liked you so fucking much for so long now,” he admits, making your smile mirror his, before you tilt to connect your lips in another short, sweet kiss.

As soon as the two of you return to the table with fingers laced together and happy flushes on your cheeks, your parents instantly call the waiter over to order a bottle of champagne to celebrate your new relationship as if they’ve won the lottery. It’s a bit over the top, but neither of you complain; they’re just happy that you’re finally together, and well, so are you.

For the very first time since befriending Jungkook, your parents come into your room to kick him out of the house when it starts to get late.

“Now that you’re together, I can’t let you stay over anymore, Jungkook. I don’t want you to make my little girl rush into anything,” you dad announces. Jungkook nods along and says he understands, while also doing his best not to laugh because only minutes before your parents knocked your bedroom door, you had your hands up Jungkook’s shirt; one playing with his nipple and the other appreciating his abs as you made out, with his own hands kneading and groping your ass.

Of course, you walk Jungkook out and share a very awkward goodnight kiss on the porch while your mother peers excitedly on from the open front door, before you rush back up to your bedroom.

Without thought, as soon as you’ve shut your door securely, you walk over to the window facing the Jeon house and open it wide, grinning at the sight of the large tree standing proud between your window and Jungkook’s.

Less than ten minutes later, a tall, beautifully broad body climbs through the open window. “That was a lot easier four years ago,” Jungkook comments as he focuses on straightening up now that both of his feet are firmly on the carpet. You don’t respond, just continue to lay in wait, draped seductively over your bed wearing nothing but a lacey little lingerie set. As soon as Jungkook lifts his head and finds you, his eyes widen in surprise, then excitement, before he starts to approach, fingers already working on his shirt buttons. “Damn, why didn’t you greet me like this when we were teenagers?”

“Maybe because I was in denial about wanting you to fuck me then.”

“Well, shit, okay, damn girl,” he replies in a playful tone that makes you laugh. He kicks off his shoes once he’s standing beside your bed, and motions for you to get closer. With a grin, you roll over onto your stomach and lift your hips slowly, giving him a little show as your wiggle your hips in the air enticingly. “Fuck, baby, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this side from me all these years.”

“This is only for you,” you assure, making him groan, pleased by the words.

Without warning, he reaches out and spanks the soft flesh of your ass, causing you to yelp in surprise. “Stop teasing me and get that pretty little ass over here.” Obligingly, you lift up onto your hands and knees to crawl over to him, stopping directly in front of him and straightening up onto your knees. “Fuck,” he hisses as he takes in your barely covered body from only inches away, so close that your lace covered breasts are almost touching his chest. “You look so fucking good, baby,” he says, voice thick and low as he drops his hands from his shirt buttons to instead grab your ass in both hands and pull your body flush against his. “Can you feel how hard you’ve made me already?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum in confirmation, and grind your hips forward against the bulge growing rapidly in Jungkook’s trousers. He moans lowly, then crashes his lips hungrily to yours. Your fingers knot in his hair, tugging the strands gently, earning another low moan to rumble in Jungkook’s throat.

When your breath runs short, you pull away to lower yourself down. Jungkook’s dark gaze follows your movement, watching intently as you finish unbuttoning his shirt and push it off his body. Your hands rove over his bare torso, appreciating the time and care he takes to keep his body so deliciously defined. Your lips trace the lines of his abs, and he lets out a soft breath, fingers running through your hair.

Slowly, you trail your mouth up his body to find his nipple. Jungkook blinks in anticipation, chewing on his bottom lip anxiously. He’s never had someone play with his nipples before, not until you did earlier, so he hadn’t been aware that he likes it, but now he is and he really hopes you’ll continue to awaken new feelings of pleasure for him.

Noticing his reaction, an amused smirk tilts your lips; Jungkook swallows thickly, getting the feeling that you’re going to take full advantage of the discovery that he enjoys his nipples being toyed with— and he really isn’t against you doing that in any way—, and then your lips suddenly wrap around his right nipple and suck, making his breath catch in his throat.

“Shit,” he finally manages to get out after a few breathless seconds, short nails dragging over your scalp slightly as your hand lifts to play with his neglected nipple. “Shit, no wonder girls like this,” he babbles, making you giggle, before you flick your tongue out suddenly, making him jolt. “Again, baby; again, please.” Really, who could refuse such cute, soft, yet desperate pleading, so you do as request and repeat the action; flick your tongue against his nipple, increasing the pace until he tips his head back and moans roughly, making you pull away.

“Shh, Jungkookie,” you scold gently and flick his wet nipple with your finger, making him let out a choked noise. “You don’t want to be interrupted, do you?” He whines and shakes his head, looking pained at the thought “Be quiet then.”

“Sorry,” he almost whispers, and you nod in approval before returning to your task of worshipping his body, as it deserves. You take your time to roam your mouth over his torso, alternating between kissing, licking, biting, and sucking at his skin until you’ve made a trail of bruised affection all the way to the waistband of his trousers, leaving him breathing heavily above you. “Baby, please,” he pleads when you stop and look up at him.

“Please what?”

“Touch me.”

“Where?” He ruts his hips forward pointedly, almost colliding his crotch with your face, but luckily you move slightly aside, and he stops his half thrust in time. “Use your words, baby,” you encourage, even as you work on flicking open the button on his trousers and slowly pull down the zipper.

“My dick. Fuck, touch my dick.”

“Hm?”

“Please,” he whines needily, and you chuckle, pleased. “Look what you reduce me to; a whiny, needy guy.”

“Hmm, my little bitch,” you confirm; Jungkook whines in complaint at the term yet doesn’t argue. “Are you my little bitch, Jungkookie?”

“Can I cum if I say yes?”

“You think I’ll not allow you pleasure if you refuse to be my bitch?” you muse, and he just gives you a flat look that lets you know that he knows that he knows you well enough by now. “Boy, you right,” you confirm, making him scoff, though it quickly turns into a chuckle.

“If I get to cum by the end of the night, you can call me whatever you want, princess,” he bargains.

“Okay, pumpkin.” He locks a heatless glare on you, and you giggle again. Before he can argue further, you quickly push down his trousers and boxers in one go, freeing his erection; it pops up and hits your jaw. Jungkook’s eyes bulge in alarmed shock, feeling like his own body has betrayed him by attacking you; he wants to apologise, but the blank look on your face keeps him still and quiet. Slowly, you let go of his clothing and leave it around his knees, to glare at his dick staring you in the face. “If you do that again, you and I are going to have a problem,” you warn in a grumble, and Jungkook snorts out a laugh.

“Are you seriously talking to my di–” he chokes on his words when you abruptly lean forward and eagerly take his erection into your mouth.

A loud moan leaves his lips when he feels his tip hit your throat, while your tongue curls and laps around his length.

Immediately, you pull off to look up at him amusedly. “I think I need to gag you,” you tease, shuffling backwards on the bed. Jungkook watches you with a pout, wishing you’re still sucking his throbbing cock and not moving further away from it. “Come on then,” you encourage, patting the bed invitingly. Jungkook wastes no time in throwing off the rest of his clothes to scramble up onto the bed. “On your back, baby.”

For a few seconds, Jungkook hesitates to do as told, purely because he wants to be on top; but then he remembers that you’re in a relationship now, and this isn’t going to be your only sexual encounter. He’ll have plenty of chances to fuck you into the mattress. With that thought in mind, he flops onto his back and gets comfortable with his head on the pillow. Once he’s settled, you crawl between his thighs and bend down to take him back into your mouth, instantly earning a moan. You try to ignore it, but then he starts to talk.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good. Your mouth is so perfect. Fuck, that’s it, suck my dick,” he croons, half babbling as you skilfully work his length. Though the moment you pull off with a sigh and climb off of the bed, he thrashes slightly in frustration. “No come back, I’m sorry. I won’t say those things anymore if you don’t like it, just come back,” he begs, making grabby hands at you, big pleading eyes locked on your face.

“Shup up, I already told you to be quiet tonight,” you remind firmly. “Clearly, you have no control over your voice box, and I’ll have to make you shut up.”

Jungkook’s body tingles with slight fear; he has no idea what you’re about to do. Admittedly though, there’s also a fair amount of fizzing arousal and he realises he’s kind of into being a little scared and at your mercy during sex.

As you start to slide your underwear down your thighs, his tongue darts out to hungrily lick his lips. “Are you going to sit on my face?” he groans lowly, beyond turned on by the thought; his dick twitches at the thought of having his face buried between your lovely thighs. You shake your head, and he whines. “But I want to taste you.”

“Another day, I don’t have the patience for that much foreplay tonight, baby,” you reply as you climb back onto the bed and straddle his waist.

Jungkook moans low and rough at the feel of your wet pussy pressing against the bare skin of his stomach. “Can I fuck you raw?”

“Do you have anything contagious?”

“You know I don’t; you would’ve been the first to know if I have an STD,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “And I know you don’t have anything either, and you’re on the pill.”

“Hmm, okay,” you agree, and he lights up with excitement at the news that he doesn’t have to wear a condom.

“Are you going to sit on my dick, huh, baby? You gonna ride me until you cum? Gonna fuck yourself on my cock?”

You have to admit, you’re loving his dirty words; each syllable in his rumbling voice sets another wave of arousal in your stomach, and you’re certain you’re dripping all over his abs by now. However, he’s being far too loud.

“Fuck, I really need to do this, huh?” you realise with a defeated sigh, and Jungkook tilts his head in confusion. “Open your mouth,” you say, a light demand, and he gives you a wary look in response. “Do it, or you can’t fuck me tonight.” Instantly, his mouth opens. “Good boy,” you coo, smiling sweetly at him as you lift your right hand with your underwear balled within. Jungkook’s eyes widen in alarm when you push the lacy material past his parted lips. “Is that okay?” you check, voice turning softer now, more gentle and cautious, just in case he’s not comfortable with this.

Jungkook wiggles his jaw a little, trying to figure out if he’s opposed to having your panties in his mouth. When his tongue finds the damp seat where he can get the faintest taste of your arousal staining the material, he knows he’s definitely okay with it. Though, he’s shy when he nods to admit this to you.

“Good.” You giggle happily before taking his face into your hands to lean down and press a sweet kiss on his bottom lip. “You look so cute with my panties in your mouth, babyboy.” Your lips trail kisses down his jaw and neck, stopping to leave a few marks on his upper chest and collarbones until you shuffle your body further down to sit up on his upper thighs.

Jungkook’s hands move to hold your hips and lift you slightly so that he can wriggle a few inches until his dick is pressing lengthways along your dripping pussy. He loosens his grasp to let you take over, grinding along his erection at your own pace. A grumbled moan breaks from his chest at the wet friction, but it’s muffled due to the material in his mouth.

“That’s better,” you approve, before leaning up onto your knees to give you space to reach between your thighs and slide two fingers past your waiting entrance while Jungkook watches with wide, entranced eyes. “You’re made me so wet,” you whisper, eyes closing as you fuck yourself open on your two fingers.

A gasp leaves your lips when Jungkook’s index finger of his right hand joins your fingers inside you, wiggling inside curiously, then working in opposition to your own movement to open you up. The difference makes a soft whimper leave your lips.

“I could cum like this,” you confess quietly, fluttering your eyes open to look down at your boyfriend and pierce him with your dark gaze. He shakes his head. “No?” 

Instead of even trying to respond, he pulls his finger out and instead, you feel a different kind of pressure nudging against your entrance. You look down to see him holding his erection up, ready to enter you. With no reason, nor wish, to wait any longer, you slip your fingers out of you to instead slide down his hard cock. Jungkook grips your hips tight as he fights the urge to fuck up into your slick warmth.

Grinding and rolling your hips, you make your way down his thick length until you’re sitting flush against him. Jungkook’s chest is heaving by the time you’re seated, and his fingers are digging so hard into you that you know bruises will be left— not that you care—; he looks as if he’s trying his damndest to calm himself with his eyes screwed tightly shut.

With an amused, lazy grin, you lean over him to press your hands either side of his shoulders. “Gonna bust already?” you tease. Jungkook’s eyes blink open, and he looks at you with cheeks flushed a deep, embarrassed pink, but he doesn’t deny it or prevent the slight nod that moves his head. You giggle and press a kiss to his parted lips. “Even if you do, I’m going to keep bouncing on your cock until I’m satisfied,” you warn, purposely clenching your walls around him; making his hips jerk at the sudden pleasurable tightening, as he moans brokenly. “Ah, who knew you’d be so much fun to play with.”

Despite your words, you decide to give him time to calm; you keep your hips still and remove your panties from his mouth so that you can kiss him without the obstacle in the way. A breath of relief leaves Jungkook’s chest, understanding that you’re giving him time; he’s really glad you are, because he just knows he’d cum too fast otherwise.

You both get too lost in the kiss, too absorbed in the way your tongues slide together, the way teeth nip teasingly at lips, that you almost entirely forget that his dick is nestled all secure and warm within you. At least until he adjusts slightly under you, and his cock rolls within you, making you both moan into one another’s mouth at the sudden friction.

“Fuck,” you whisper, pulling back to straighten up on his hips and place your palms flat on his chest.

“Take your bra off,” he demands, practically glaring at the piece of clothing still hiding you from his view. Honestly, you had entirely forgotten about it, too caught up in Jungkook, so the reminder prompts you to quickly unclasp it and toss it carelessly to the floor. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he breathes out, awed, running his hands over your body in soft reverence.

“So are you.”

Jungkook’s gaze lifts from admiring your newly exposed breasts, to meet your eyes, and he smiles. “C’mere and kiss me.” Well, you’ll never say no to that, and swiftly lean down to lock your lips back together.

Though, this time, you remember the situation you’re in and start to lift and lower your hips. Jungkook moans lowly and grabs a hold of your ass to help you move, encouraging your motions as his lifts his hips in time. Yet, even though his cock is dragging slowly along your walls, pressing into all the right spots and his tip hits deep enough to make your toes curl, it isn’t quite what you really want right now.

As you push your body up to sight upright on his hips, Jungkook watches with heady, lidded eyes so dark with lust that your stomach turns with arousal. He lets you move however you want, stopping his own movement as you lift, then suddenly drop back down. A deep moan vibrates through Jungkook’s chest and out of his mouth, and you immediately fall still before you can even bounce again.

“Fucking hell,” you groan, a little frustrated, and pick up your underwear to stuff them non-too-gently into his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t fight it, even opens his mouth wide when he sees you pick up the lace. “You like having my panties in your mouth, baby?” you coo tauntingly, placing your hands on his stomach for leverage before you start to bounce in rapid enthusiasm. Jungkook grunts, head tipping back on the pillow as his eyes roll to a shut, yet he still nods. “Can you taste me?” you wonder, already getting breathless with the pleasure assaulting your nerves. He nods again, and you notice his throat bob thickly as he swallows hard before tilting his head back down to watch you.

All it takes it one second of heated eye contact for you to give up teasing him and focus on riding him, adjusting your position and motions until you have the perfect angle to hit that extra sensitive spot within you that has you gasping and seeing stars.

Jungkook is utterly mesmerised as he watches you ride him; he’s positive he’s never seen such a beautiful sight. Your expression is scrunched in a mix of concentration and pleasure as you focus on brining yourself to orgasm. When he realises that, Jungkook quickly moves to help, sliding his right hand off your hip to between your thighs so that he can press his thumb to your clit. Your hips jerk in surprise at the unexpected touch, but you quickly get back into rhythm with a little whimper, hips moving more desperately to reach your climax.

Obligingly, and perhaps even more desperate than you are, Jungkook makes sure to keep pace with you, still letting you lead while moving his hips in tandem to grind up into you as his thumb rolls over your clit.

Strangely enough, it’s a broken little moan, meeting your ears muffled by the fabric he’s still obediently keeping in his mouth, that hits you right in the lower stomach, makes your walls clench quickly, and throws you into an intense orgasm that blindsides you with how abrupt and strong it is.

Somehow, Jungkook fights back his own orgasm as he watches your body shake on top of him with the intense pleasure surging through your body, walls fluttering and pulsating around his throbbing cock. His thumb continues to work your clit until you grip his wrist and tug his hand away before he can overstimulate you.

Bravely, Jungkook removes your panties from his mouth and watches you in slack-jawed awe as your body slowly stills on top of him. He waits for you to calm and catch your breath before he pulls you down into a passionate kiss.

“You look so fucking beautiful cumming on my dick like that, baby,” he whispers, grunting when you unintentionally clench around you. “Fuck, I’m gonna fill you with my cum,” he murmurs mindlessly as his left arm wraps around your waist, his right-hand tangles in your hair, and his feet plant on the bed to give him leverage to begin to fuck up into you, desperate and harsh. A whine-like moan leaves your lips as his cock pummels through your sensitive, fresh-from-a-powerful-orgasm, walls.

“Fuck, Kook,” you moan, letting him lift you slightly so that he can attach his lips to your breasts; your back arches to press your chest closer to his face, unintentionally allowing him a slightly different angle to fuck into you that makes him moan loudly against your skin. Instantly, you push yourself up onto you palms to look down at him disapprovingly.

Jungkook looks back up at you apologetic, yet so desperate and unable to stop himself from thrusting up into you, eyes darting between your bouncing tits and face. He wants to cum so much, in fact, he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to cum so much in his life, but he also knows that he’s being too loud.

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. “Do–do you trust me?” you pant you, letting your right palm run over his chest. He nods without hesitation, even if he looks puzzled about why you’ve asked such a question while he’s balls deep inside you. “Stop me at any time.”

His hips slow as he watches your expression turn more serious; hesitance dances in your eyes, appearing over the darkness of the lust swimming there. He’s utterly confused, but very intrigued by whatever you’re planning. Slowly, your hand slides up to wrap loosely around his throat, and he understands. He swallows thickly under your palm, and his cock twitches against your walls.

“Is this okay?” you check. He nods hesitantly, uncertain if he’ll be okay with you actually tightening your hold, but he’s willing to at least try it and find out. “Fuck me, Kook,” you encourage, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. Jungkook nods and his hips snap up into you, return to his borderline animalistic fucking.

As soon as Jungkook moans too loud, your grip on this throat tightens slightly to cut him off. He sputters in surprise, so you pull your hand back.

“Sorry.”

“No–no,” he replies, blushing, and glances aside shyly quickly, before locking his gaze on yours. “Again.” Your eyebrows lift in surprise, but you return your hand to his throat.

The next time, you spot the incoming moan before he has a chance to vocalise it and tighten your grip. You’re surprised that in response, he suddenly fucks into you harder, forcing your body to jolt harshly with the strength he’s now using. You clamp around his dick, and then his throat when you see his eyes roll back and mouth drop open wider.

The sound of skin slapping wetly against skin echoes loudly in the room, and you don’t give a single fuck if it’s audible from another room; the knot in your stomach is suddenly back with a tight vengeance, and you want to cum too.

Your grip loosens just long enough to let Jungkook catch his breath, but his movements slow a little, and you don’t like that. The second you decide he has enough air in his lungs, your fingers curl and his hips return to their fast movement, hitting against you hard enough that you know your thighs will be sore tomorrow, if not into the next day too. You’re kind of looking forward to it.

“Fuck, baby,” you whine, balling your left hand into the sheets by his shoulder as you fight to keep your eyes open to watch his blissed expression for the first sign that you need to ease up on his throat. “I…so close,” you mumble. Once again, Jungkook’s hand dives between your thighs to rub his thumb against your clit; the urgency and clumsiness of his movements tells you that he’s so close to his own orgasm but wants you to finish first.

You loosen your grip on this throat for a moment, only allowing him to suck in a few breaths before closing on his throat once again, though with more pressure than you’ve used so far. Jungkook chokes, yet as soon as you try to move your hand away, he pushes his throat back against your palm so that you can choke him again.

You find his desperation to be choked more arousing than you thought you’ve ever find such an action, and it sets the knot to explode in your lower stomach, sending you writhing and trembling over him once again.

The feeling of your walls clamping around his leaking cock for a second time is too much for him to fight, and Jungkook’s orgasm hits him so hard he curls up harder into your palm without meaning to or even noticing. Luckily, you do, even in your blissed out, foggy minded state, and you quickly move your hand away to plant on the mattress as your body sags, only moving thanks to Jungkook’s hips still mindlessly rutting against you to milk out his orgasm.

Slowly, you both come down from your highs, and he pulls you down onto his sweat-slick chest. Usually, you’d complain about him touching you when he’s sweaty, but you’re just as bad right now, so you don’t care and contently curl up against him.

When your body stops shuddering after a handful of minutes, you try to move off of him, but he whines and holds you tighter. “Don’t move,” he whispers against your head. “Let me hold you.”

“I can feel your cum leaking out around your deflating dick,” you grumble, and he snorts a very unattractive laugh at your words. You still think he’s absurdly attractive though.

“That’s a lovely mental image,” he retorts before suddenly flipping you both over, and pulls out of you.

You watch in confusion as he shuffles down your body and settles on his elbows between your spread thighs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Fuck, that’s my cum,” he murmurs awed, reaching out to scoop up the cum trickling from your entrance, to push it back inside. “Keep that where it belongs.”

“Where it belongs?” you question, raising an eyebrow.

“My cum belongs in you, baby.” He looks up at you with a grin, making you laugh. “So, you’re a lot kinkier than I thought,” he comments with a smirk as he crawls up your body, pressing gentle kisses over every patch of skin he passes until he’s hovering over you with his forearms either side of your head, caging you in. “Stuffing your panties in my mouth?” You shrug. “Choking me?”

“You clearly liked that. A lot.”

“I did,” he confirms, licking his lips, before his gaze travels down to your bare throat with hungry burning dark in his eyes, and making your stomach fizz with anticipation. “But I think that next time, I should choke you, princess.”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Violent Love - K.SY

🔪Who: Kwon Soonyoung (Seventeen) x female reader 🔪What: Some angst. Some fluff. Some humour. Some dark themes. Slow burn. Assassin Soonyoung. Exes to Something to Lovers. Some mildly suggestive moments (18+) 🔪Word count: 24.9k 🔪Warnings: Profanity. Some alcohol consumption. Many references to death and violence: but none actually shown, and nobody dies after the beginning section. Soonyoung calls reader babe/ baby throughout the entire fic even though they’re exes. Reader has a “name”, but it’s explained and not her real name, which is never stated. There’s no explicit smut, and it’s not that suggestive, but I still am not comfortable with anyone under 18 reading. 🔪Summary:

A lot can be said about Kwon Soonyoung, but that he’s a normal member of society isn’t one of those things. Honestly, you’re not sure that Soonyoung’s even seen the bar standard when it comes to being a normal member of society, and yet somehow, he manages to find that bar, violently stomp it into the ground, and turn your life entirely upside down with one monumental fuck up.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This is entirely written for, and dedicated to, Celeste @mylovesstuffs, who has brought this idea up at every available opportunity since she first heard about it. Happy birthday, sweetheart, I hope you like it 💗 And a giant thanks to Bunny @thestraybunny for letting me use her name for Jeonghan’s wife when I was too lazy to come up with an original name, hope you like your part hehehe 💗

Kwon Soonyoung is a lot of things: cheeky, handsome, fun; a lightweight with alcohol, great in bed, terrible with technology; in peak physical condition, quick on his feet, observant; a highly sought after assassin… and well, that last one is the point of this really.

Although Soonyoung has a lot of great points— and some not-so-great ones that are easily overshadowed by the good—, killing people for money sort of ruined his whole thing for you when you found out.

Okay, admittedly, it wasn’t an immediate end to your relationship when you first found a weapon hidden in his apartment in a convenient, quick to grab, but well concealed, location— you doubt he expected you to be so nosey and rummage around as much as you did. Nor the second or third time.

Not even the fourth when you also found a bloodstained shirt that he hadn’t disposed of simply because you bought it for him. Which, admittedly, probably only further encouraged him when you threw the shirt aside and tackled him to the bed to enthusiastically show him how endeared you were by his sentimental action.

It probably took far longer than it should’ve for you to end things with Soonyoung. Honestly, it only happened when he asked to move in together, and you realised that you would regularly see him coming home from jobs; beaten and bruised from fights, and his victim’s blood staining his clothes. That’s if he even made it home.

When you thought about it like that; always unsure if he’d make it back to you; if maybe one day, he would have to pay for his sins in a way that ripped him away from you before you were ready, you knew you couldn’t wait for that day to come.

So, you made the choice to lose him on your own terms and ended all contact with him in hopes that you would be too distanced in every way to ever know the day the worst happens to him.

Of course, Soonyoung wasn’t happy about that and immediately tried to change your mind; tried to promise that no-one can out maneuverer Hoshi; best assassin in the entire country! And then he tripped over the hem of his ridiculously baggy jeans and made you even more certain that the idiot is going to get himself killed and leave you with a space in your chest where he once lived.

You’d like to say that Soonyoung respected your wishes after that and left you alone; that he gave you the space you requested and moved on.

But Kwon Soonyoung is a lot of things, and a quitter isn’t one of them.

Honestly, at this point, you can’t even be surprised. At this point, you should be used to this utterly insane method of winning you back. But you really can’t be blamed for never getting used to your assassin ex-boyfriend killing anyone who causes you even the slightest bit of grief.

The neighbour you complained about once on social media for having an obnoxiously loud party the night before you had to get up ridiculously early for work; found dead in a ditch days later.

The coffee shop employee who always got your order wrong; found floating in the river the day after she gave you cow’s milk despite you making a point of reminding her that you’re lactose intolerant, resulting in hours in the bathroom with horrendous stomach cramps. Okay, maybe she was trying to hurt you, you can’t be sure, but you’re pretty sure that murder wasn’t the answer!

And first thing this morning, you walked into work only to find police all over the place and quickly learned that your boss was found face down at this desk only an hour before, with a poisoned cup of long-cold coffee infront of his unblinking eyes. And well, you think Soonyoung’s taken it too far this time.

Sure, your boss was a sexist pig who liked to degrade your work and compliment his shit head of a son instead— despite the nepo baby being absolutely useless at his job—, but you could grin and bear it. The pay’s really good, and at the end of the day, you do get to pick your clients; because despite how much your boss liked to pick on you, he also knew that you’re the best in the company and he couldn’t risk losing you.

Or well, was the best in the company would be more accurate. Because not long after you get home from work, you find Soonyoung already in your apartment, with bags packed by his feet, and words on his tongue you never wanted to hear.

“Babe, I fucked up,” he admits, already getting up from the armchair to take a tentative step towards you. He looks nervous, and regretful, but also a little panicked and urgent in a way that forces you to push the stream of pissed off scolding to the back of your throat for later.

“How, Soonyoung?” you question, moving further in without even bothering to remove your shoes; you can see he still has his on, and that gives you the worst feeling that this is far more pressing than keeping your apartment clean.

“Like…in the way that you’re now on the most wanted list, so we need to fucking run.”

In all that you could’ve imagined Soonyoung saying to you one day, those words never even remotely crossed your mind; didn’t even get in the far distance of your mental view and tease a glimpse of worry into you. You can’t be blamed for taking a few long moments to just stare in stunned disbelief at the assassin infront of you as you absorb what he’s said.

Thankfully, Soonyoung must understand your shock as he doesn’t rush you to respond. Then again, he never did rush you; he was always good like that. Now, you’re not quite as sure what he is. A fucking idiot, probably.

“Fuck you,” is the response you decide on, glaring at him slightly, and Soonyoung nods like he expected that; deserves that.

“You have time to shower and change into the clothes I left out; they’ll be best to travel in. I’ve packed everything that you can take,” he informs, motioning to the matching luggage sets by his feet. Matching sets he bought the two of you for the holiday you never got the chance to take; he had to go on a sudden job, and you were too busy at work by the time he returned wearing an eye patch and doing a shitty pirate impersonation while trying to hide his limp from you.

Maybe you’re as much as an idiot as him to have stayed with him for almost a year after that, despite being worried he’d never walk without pain again. He still gets twinges of pain now in his leg, and limps after doing strenuous activity, but he says as long as he can move and his vision remains as perfect as it’s always been, he’ll always be Hoshi. Part of you selfishly wished his eye injury was more severe than it was, then maybe he would’ve quit back then, and you could still be together and as in love as you once were.

But here you are, wishing the man had left when you broke up with him and never showed his face again. Yet, he just couldn’t let you go, and now, you’re somehow a wanted woman and need to flee the country with your batshit insane ex-boyfriend.

“You better fucking explain what you did as soon as it’s safe to sit and talk,” you warn, pointing a stern finger at the man as you walk past him.

“I will, I promise. I’m really fucking sorry; I never meant for this to happen.”

And there’s a lot to be said about Kwon Soonyoung, but he’s never lied to you when it matters.

Of course, with all Soonyoung’s done in his life, he knows a lot of people; a lot of people who owe him for something or the other; a lot of people he calls on to get the two of you safely out of the country and halfway across the world with the promise that they never have to see nor hear from him again. You kind of envy them for that, honestly.

Fleeing consists of weeks of careful travel; of hiding out; of being in such close quarters with Soonyoung that you truly debate shoving him over the edge of a boat on multiple occasions for doing this to you. You know it’d be easy enough physically; he wouldn’t see it coming at all.

But realistically, you’re no killer; you don’t even like killing spiders. Then again, neither does Soonyoung, so maybe that’s not the best comparison. The point is, no matter how much anger you have in your veins at the man for making you give up your entire independent life, to instead rely on him to keep you alive and running from the situation that he got you into without you knowing until it was too late, you could never hurt him.

Well, not that severely; you certainly like to whack his arm in punishment at every chance, and he lets you without complaint. He even readily offers up his limb when he sees the ire burning brighter in your eyes when he forces you into yet another tiny, ratty bed for the night while he sleeps on the floor by your side like a loyal guard dog.

It’s when you make that comparison— Soonyoung as your protective guard dog that would bite the face off a threat, then turn around to look at you with big, puppy-dog eyes as his tail wags and he silently asks to be called a good boy—, that you suddenly find it harder to take your anger out on him anymore, and instead turn away when you’re reminded of the shit show that your life now is thanks to him. Honestly, you think turning your back on him hurts more than your hits ever could, and that both pleases you, and makes your own heart ache further.

You go through weeks of it all, and it’s not until you arrive in some foreign country you don’t know the language of— nor know a thing about— and Soonyoung lets you drive for the first time since this started, that he finally tells you how he fucked up.

“Promise not to drive us off the cliff?” he requests out of the blue, a good half an hour into the drive; with him carefully directing you using the map that his final connection handed him, along with the car keys, forty minutes ago. A connection who pretty much wept with joy when the assassin Hoshi finally freed him from his debt. Well, you assume that’s what happened; you couldn’t understand a word the pair said, but it seems to be the general way of conversation every time the two of you part ways with one of the many people who once owed Hoshi a favour.

“No,” you answer simply, without hesitation. He sighs, and you’re very certain he expected you to answer that way yet hoped you wouldn’t. It’s crazy how, although you had a pretty solid grasp on Soonyoung seven months ago when you were still together, you now know him better than ever. But then again, you guess spending 24/7 with someone while on the run tends to do that.

“At least jump out the car before it falls over,” he says, pouting at you a little; something you only see from your peripheral vision, but you can still feel the full force of. Damn that rabid puppy-dog.

You sigh. “Even though I’d love to punish you and you alone for how monumentally you’ve fucked up my life, I wouldn’t be able to survive without you. I don’t even know where we are,” you respond matter-of-factly. “So, it’s both of us, or neither of us.”

“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Maybe I should drive.” You give him an unimpressed look that makes him shrink slightly. “Or not.”

“Relax, I’m not going to drive off the cliff.” Funnily enough, that’s all you need to say for Soonyoung to relax, as if he really did think you’d drive the pair of you off the cliff just to punish him. Depending on what exactly he says, it’s not entirely off the table, but you think it’s better not to let him know that in case he refuses to tell you quite yet; you’ve waited far too long for this information to risk losing the chance.

“Good. I never want to hurt you or be the reason you’re hurt. I’d do anything to protect you,” he insists firmly, despite the fact you’ve never doubted that. Even if he has some weird ideas of what you need protecting from and the lengths morally acceptable to go to protect you. But, you suppose for being raised in the world he has, Soonyoung could be a lot worse. His heart is in the right place, at least.

“Then explain why you’ve made me leave my life behind to go to somewhere I can’t even speak the language. I doubt I’d know where we are on a map even if you told me the name.”

“Probably not; I only know because of my connection. I’ve never been to the exact place before,” he admits, and you’re a little unsteady about that; that even Soonyoung has no experience wherever he’s been leading you to for the past weeks. But still, you trust him. You’ve yet to decide if that’s a bad idea or not.

After pausing the topic to check the map and give you a heads up that you need to take the next exit away from the cliff’s edge, and to make sure you drink some water, Soonyoung finally answers.

“So, I don’t know if you noticed, but some people have been disappearing from your life the past months,” he starts, and you give him a quick, flat look in response that makes him smile sheepishly. “So, you did notice.”

“Bit hard not to, Soonyoung.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t deserve a place in your life when they don’t make you happy!”

“Says the man who dragged me across the globe.” Soonyoung doesn’t say anything for long enough that you look over and notice the pained, kicked puppy-dog look on his face. You sigh and look forward again just in time to take the exit he earlier notified you of. “Please just get to the point,” you request, knowing that you’ll give in to something if he keeps looking at you all quiet and heartbroken like this. What that something is, you’re not sure, but you’re not ready to forgive him and don’t want to do something you’d regret.

“The cops noticed that you’re the common factor between the bodies,” he admits in a mumble, still aching from your words, but also reluctant to truly confess his giant fuck up to you. He doesn’t want you to be disappointed in him, and you know that, but you still are, and he knows it. “They didn’t realise there is a common factor between the bodies until they suddenly noticed your name crop up. And since your boss was found dead, they decided they have to act. They think you’re a serial killer and were going to bring you in; you’re pretty much top of their most wanted list now.”

It genuinely takes a handful of minutes for you to fully register and accept the words, before you realise exactly what he’s just told you, and the anger that had fizzled out over the past weeks is back with a vengeance.

Soonyoung yelps when you abruptly swerve the car along the road to cause his head to hit the window at his side; hard enough to hurt him but not damage the glass. “Ow! Fuck!” he exclaims as he clutches the impact spot, and you straighten the car back up to continue along the road as if nothing happened. “I deserve that.”

“More than that.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh, and slowly drops his hands to his lap as he tilts his head back against the headrest. “I know you won’t forgive me any time soon, if ever, but I really am sorry. If I could go back and be smarter about it, I would; I’d set someone up to take the fall and take any suspicion away from you.”

It’s really not at all what he should say, what a normal person would say, but you know it’s as good as you’re going to get without explaining that he should just not kill people if he had the chance for a do-over, and you just don’t have the mental energy to have that conversation.

You just sigh and keep driving.

It takes an hour of driving before you reach a dock, and Soonyoung swaps the car keys for tickets to the ferry to an island you can’t even see from where you stand.

There’s just enough time to get aboard with your luggage and stow it safely in the compartments beside the seats you pick near the windows before the ferry starts the two-hour long journey across the salty water to the place you have no choice but to accept as your new home.

“I don’t know what name your new ID will have,” is the first thing Soonyoung says to you almost an hour into the journey, voice quiet as he leans in close to you with one arm on the back of your seat; playing couple like you have been in order to avoid questions during your travels. Nobody questions a couple leaning in close and whispering to each other, just assumes it’s sweet nothings or filthy fantasies being passed in the air between them.

As much as you’d rather that Soonyoung doesn’t keep so close when you’re so mad at him, you know it really is the smartest move to remain under the radar and look like any other couple exploring the world together, so you never pull away.

“I still think it’s unfair you get to keep your name and mine has to change all the fucking time,” you grumble, leaning into him just so you can poke your fingers into his thigh a little harshly, reminding him that you’re not happy to be playing along— even if the way his fingers absently trace over your arm furthest from his is, admittedly, rather nice; but you’re not going to tell him that.

“I’m not in any government system, you are. People know Hoshi, not Soonyoung,” he explains with a shrug.

Although you’re not happy about it, you know that he’s right, so you just groan softly and lean your head onto his shoulder to get comfortable for the remainder of your journey across the sea.

Upon meeting land, Soonyoung seems a little lost for the first time as he glances around the sparse dock, the few buildings along the cobble street in front of you, and honestly, not much else.

After a few awkward seconds as he tries to gather his bearings, he motions you over to an old rickety bench— which he tries out before allowing you to sit— and leaves you there with the luggage by your feet, before he darts off to talk to a couple of locals standing and chatting outside of what you assume to be a grocery store of some kind, based on the faded, cartoonish fruit drawn onto the window.

It only takes a few minutes for Soonyoung to seemingly have befriended the two middle aged men, talking and laughing with them like old friends, before he motions to you with one hand, the other pressed to his chest. Based on the expressions the two older men turn to look at you with, you just know that Soonyoung is spinning some tale of his endless love and devotion to you.

You do your best not to linger on the thought; especially not the knowledge that he doesn’t even need to lie to them. Soonyoung still loves you, he doesn’t hide it at all, though you wish he would. You’ve spent seven months trying your best to get over him, and you always think you’ve completely succeeded until he looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes and tenderness tilting his lips up, and your heart skips a beat, reminding you how easily it would be to race for him. It takes everything in you to stop it.

Not long later, you’re in the backseat of a little car, luggage piled up next to you due to the lack of a boot, and Soonyoung in the seat in front of you as one of the men kindly drives the pair of you northwards across the island.

Up until the man pulls up to the northernmost dock, in another little village— though this one a little more lively and populated—, you really couldn’t imagine how small the island is. It only took an hour to drive from the southernmost dock where you started, to this one. Even Soonyoung seems surprised when the man parks and must announce that you’re at your destination.

Quickly, Soonyoung thanks the man, and thanks to Soonyoung having taught you a few basic phrases on the ferry ride over, you also manage to get out a stilted thanks— which the kind man beams at— before he helps you and Soonyoung gather all your belongings.

Then, not even a minute later, you’re watching the man drive away, and wondering what kind of a life you’re going to live here.

“So, what now?” you wonder, turning to peer up at Soonyoung while shielding your eyes from the early afternoon sun. He’s busy looking around, clearly searching for something, eyes roaming the dock, the people, the buildings, and streets you can see from where you stand.

“Mm, we find– ah! There!” he exclaims, lighting up when he finds whatever he was looking for. And then to your surprise, he leaves you standing there all alone as he runs off with an excited yell of “Bunny!”

Utterly bewildered, and even more so when you hear his name being yelled back, you look over and find him running into the open arms of a rapidly approaching woman. Soonyoung’s arms are open just as wide, and their smiles are matching beams that only grow when they collide and wrap each other up in a hug so tight you find yourself suddenly questioning your own place at Soonyoung’s side. Though you quickly shake that thought away and remind yourself that you’re not at his side, not like that. Not like you used to be.

Part of you wants to walk over to join the pair, but the other part of you doesn’t want to intrude, and you also don’t want to carry all the luggage on your own, so you just remain in place and wait for Soonyoung to return to your side.

Thankfully, it’s only a couple of minutes later that he rushes back to your side, scoops up most of the luggage in one arm— leaving you with your backpack— and slings his free arm around you to urge you towards the woman.

“Baby, this is Bunny!” he introduces, as if that should mean something to you.

“Uh, hi,” you offer awkwardly, not really sure how to navigate this, but at least it seems that this woman speaks your native tongue, so that makes it a little easier.

“Hi, Myla!” Bunny replies, and it takes you a moment to realise that she thinks that’s your name. You glance at Soonyoung and find his expression looking kind of dopily smitten, yet also shy at the same time, so you reason he obviously knows the story behind the name and decide to ask him later in private. “It’s great to finally meet you, and it’ll be nice to have a same aged friend around. Honestly, other than my husband, everyone is middle aged around here; on most of the island really.”

“Oh, husband?” you question, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise as something in your chest settles at the information.

“Yep!” she confirms, lifting her left hand to show the simple silver band on her ring finger. “Five years this summer.” She looks at her ring with so much reverence that without even meeting her husband, you know he owns her entire heart and soul. It’s utterly precious, and you don’t know the woman yet, but you hope her husband looks at his own ring in the same tender way.

“Wow, congratulations,” you say, smiling at her finally, and she lights up even brighter.

“Thanks! You must be tired after the long journey, I’ll show you to your house!” she enthuses and links her arm with yours to lead you at her side ahead of Soonyoung. When you glance over your shoulder at him, he looks utterly content to toddle along behind you, so you just face forward again to memorise the journey to your new home.

It takes literally minutes to arrive at the front door of the cosy little detached house, just up the hilled street overlooking the dock and main street. There are only a couple other buildings along this street— which seems to lead only to a large expanse of grass and wildflowers—, and they’re all stout little houses with enough space between each for another handful of houses. It’s a vast difference from the cramped apartment building you spent the past years of your life in; from seeing nothing but concrete and towering city blocks no matter where you turned. You won’t say it aloud, but you quite like this.

“This is it!” Bunny informs brightly as she hands you a key ring with a couple keys attached, and motions to the door. Obligingly, you step forward to unlock the door and push it open. “Let me give you the grand tour,” she says once the three of you are inside, with the door shut and shoes toed off onto the matted area before the beige tiles lining the entrance hall.

Despite looking fairly small from the outside, the house is actually rather spacious inside, with plenty of windows to allow natural light in and give a spacious feel. 

Immediately to the left upon entering the house, there’s a door that leads to a small storage room— which already contains cleaning supplies, including a mop and broom placed neatly to the side, and Bunny assures you both that she and her husband put them to use only the day before, ready for your arrival. Oddly enough, there’s a door at the back of the closet, and you’re surprised to find a wet room there, but Bunny quickly explains that the weather can get pretty wet here, and that leads to some muddy moments, so all the houses are built with a wet room near the entrance so that mud can be washed off instead of risking it getting smeared along the way to the main bathroom upstairs.

The door coming off the right of the entrance hall leads to the living area; already containing some furniture that Bunny promises is new, but you’re welcome to replace with your own tastes when you want; though you’re pretty happy with what’s already here, and you know Soonyoung just doesn’t care about furniture. The man really had some questionable items in his apartment when you first met and only changed them when you suggested he at least tried to not live like a broke college student taking any free furniture he happened across.

The back of the hall opens directly into the kitchen, which curves around to the left to an empty room that you assume is a separate dining room. Though there’s already a four-seater table in the back right corner of the kitchen with the light from the window on either wall shining down on it, so you really don’t know what will happen with the empty room, honestly.

After going up the stairs in the entrance hall, Bunny quickly shows you the bathroom— with all new fixtures, she proudly informs you—, before glossing over the empty room, and ending in the biggest room, the master bedroom; containing a double wardrobe, large chest of drawers, dressing table, and a large bed already set up for two. The only bed in the house.

“I know you’re not actually together, but I’ve told everyone that you are,” Bunny discloses, that bright tone usually in her voice lessening to something more neutral, even a tinge apologetic you like to think. You look at her and she twists her lips up into a slightly sheepish smile. “They’d kick up a fuss about friends of opposing sexes living together, so this, believe it or not, is the lesser of two evils.”

“Right,” you mumble, understanding her point, but not particularly pleased about it.

“Yeah. Well, happy relationship, I guess!” she claps her hands together then turns and heads back downstairs, so you and Soonyoung follow all the way to the front door to watch as she shoves her feet back into her sturdy shoes. “I’ll leave you two to settle, but come by at around 5-ish, Jeonghan will be awake from his afternoon nap then.”

“Your husband!” Soonyoung crows excitedly before you can ask if Jeonghan is her child and inadvertently saves you from that awkward moment. You mentally thank him for doing something he isn’t even aware of, though keep your mouth shut and let the pair converse.

“Yeah!” Bunny cheers, lighting all the way back up now they’re talking about her husband. “He gets up early to go fishing, so he always naps when he’s back. He’s excited to meet you both and has already planned dinner. You don’t have any allergies or dietary requirements, do you, Myla?” she asks, and it takes you a moment to remember that this Myla is you. The new you.

“No, nothing like that,” you assure, and she nods happily.

“Great, because I don’t want my Hannie to get upset if his careful planning is for nothing. So, see you both at 5, dinner will be at 6,” she says.

“Okay,” Soonyoung agrees easily as Bunny opens the door and steps outside.

“Wait!” you call incredulously when she starts to walk down the path. Bunny and Soonyoung both look at you questioningly. “Where do you live?”

“Oh!” Bunny laughs, and Soonyoung giggles along, both only now realising that she failed to inform you of her place of residence already. “At the top,” she says, pointing up the hill, only one house between you. “I’ll introduce you to our mutual neighbours another time; they’re away this week visiting family on the mainland.”

“Ah, right, okay,” you answer with a nod, Soonyoung nodding along too, before Bunny just waves once more then strolls off back down the hill.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a snack,” Soonyoung says as you shut the front door, then he immediately turns and scuttles off to the kitchen.

By the time you join him after making sure the door is properly shut, and familiarising yourself with the locking mechanism and bolt, he’s already cutting up a selection of fruit he must’ve pulled from the fridge, because you know the fruit bowl was empty not ten minutes ago.

“Soonyoung,” you start as you near to lean on the other side of the island counter as him.

In response, he only hums; eyes focused on the shining knife in his hands as he skilfully chops. Admittedly, Soonyoung’s knife skills have always impressed you; it’s just his cooking skills that are lacking. Though he’s certainly improved a lot since you first met and you declared he needed to learn how to cook meals, not live off takeout and ready meals all the time.

“Myla?” you question; Soonyoung immediately falls still, and you notice his eyes widen where they’re still aimed down at his task. “Well?”

“It…it’s short for ‘my love’,” he admits quietly. You can see a hint of pink starting to stain the tips of his ears. “Be–because that’s what I always call you when I talk about you to her.”

“I didn’t even know she exists until today,” you comment, deciding to move past the admittance of sweet name he’s called you enough for there to be a shortened version that Bunny decided to dub you.

“Ah, yeah, well,” he replies vaguely with a shrug. “Just how it is, really.” You don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, and don’t have the energy to try and guess or pry a better answer out of him, so you just hum and accept the piece of fruit he slides across the chopping board to you silently.

“So, do we have some back story I need to learn? Not that I will be able to speak to the locals unless they speak my language, but I should still know.”

“They only really speak the local language here,” he confirms with a little nod.

“You’ll teach it to me, right?” He lifts his head to look at you. “What? If we’re going to be here for the rest of our lives, I’m going to need to be able to speak to more than just you and Bunny.”

“And Jeonghan; you can talk to him.”

“Which is a genuine relief, but I’d still like to be able to go to the local store and talk to them instead of just awkwardly paying in silence.”

“I can do all the grocery shopping,” he offers, pouting a little. “You don’t have to do anything. Let me take care of you.”

“I will literally go insane if I don’t get to live as normally as possible, Soonyoung. You’re not doing everything, especially if that confines me to the house,” you warn.

Immediately, he puts down the knife and shakes his empty hands in the air, eyes a little wide in slight panic. “I didn’t mean like that! I’m not telling you that you can’t! You can do whatever you want! I’m not in charge of you!”

“Correct.”

“I just meant…I want to take care of you and do everything. I won’t argue about you taking care of yourself too, of course, and doing whatever you want as long as it doesn’t endanger you, just…I want to look after you too. I’ll do anything you want,” he offers, voice turning soft and tender, betraying his still present and endless love for you.

You just sigh, which he mirrors softly as he turns back down to the knife and chopping board, knowing it means that you no longer feel the same as him, and still have no plan of taking him back, of loving him again.  

“I’ll teach you the language, and the culture as much as I can, but Bunny and Jeonghan will be better at that part, seeing as they’ve lived here for almost five years now,” he says, voice still a little too soft, a little aching around the edges, but he’s trying to not linger on his broken heart for both of your sakes.

“Okay, thank you. And our story?”

“Mm, not sure, but I’m sure Bunny will fill us in over dinner; she came up with it all and should have our new documents ready.”

“Alright.” You nod and push away from the counter after swallowing down a final piece of fruit. “I’m going to go shower, maybe nap.”

“Okay,” he agrees with a nod as he watches you get further away from him. “Rest well.”

Although Soonyoung assures you that Bunny won’t expect anything, you feel rude turning up to a stranger’s house for dinner without a gift, so he obligingly walks around the village with you until you find the local store, and within, a small section of fresh flowers.

Of course, you don’t understand what the shopkeeper says to the pair of you, nor do you have any money; but Soonyoung handles it all, somehow without exchanging any cash, and then the two of you are on your way.

“What did you say to her?” you wonder as the two of you head back toward the hill, the beautifully wrapped bouquet cradled carefully in your arms to not risk damage to the simple yet elegant blooms.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t pay.”

“I don’t have money yet,” he reminds, making you stop still and look at him with wide, shocked eyes. “What?” he laughs as he stops a few steps ahead of you yet turned to face you. “Where would I have gotten cash from, babe?”

“I don’t know, maybe you had some already, or Bunny left some in the house.”

“Nope…well, I didn’t actually look, but she didn’t say she would,” he reasons with a shrug.

“Then why did you agree to go to the store with no money?!”

“I figured they’d be willing to work on a trade system. I know Bunny fixes a lot of stuff in exchange for goods and other services here, so I thought I could offer to do something for them.”

“And what exactly are you going to do in return for these?” you question, nodding down to the flowers in your arms.

“No idea.”

“Soonyoung!” you scold, reaching out to hit his arm.

“Ow! What?!” he clutches the impact spot, even if you didn’t hit him hard enough to actually hurt him.

“You can’t just offer to do things without knowing what they are! What if you’re asked to do something really fucked up?!”

“I mean…I’m pretty sure I’ve already done more fucked up stuff than what that lady will ask of me.”

“I dunno, she kept staring at your arms,” you comment, letting your own eyes lower to where his biceps are stretching the short sleeves of his obnoxiously floral shirt. You’d like to say it’s something Bunny left at the house amongst the items she procured to allow you and Soonyoung to blend in with the local lifestyle easier. But no, Soonyoung has been wearing that same shirt regularly since you first met over two years ago. For a man trained to blend in, he wears some really bold outfits.

“And?” You can’t help but roll your eyes before turning back the way you came from, with every intention of returning the flowers so that Soonyoung doesn’t owe a mystery— and potentially sexualised— debt to this stranger. “Hey, hey, baby, wait,” he calls, whining a little as he rushes forward to gently grab your arm to make you stop and face him again. “What’re you doing?”

“Returning the flowers, obviously. I’m not going to let you get tricked into doing heavy lifting topless just to be ogled and sexualised, all for some flowers.”

For a moment, Soonyoung just blinks at you, then a dumbass smile lifts his face and curves his eyes with how his cheeks bunch up. “You don’t want other women to check me out?”

“Did you even listen to what I said?” you deadpan, unimpressed.

“Yep. You don’t want other women ogling me!” he declares with a bright, dopey grin, practically singing his words in his joy.

“You know what? Forget it, she can ask you to do the macarena naked for all I care,” you decide with a frustrated sigh before stalking back off towards the hill.

You know that no matter what you say right now, the smooth part of Soonyoung’s brain will rule over logic and reason, and he won’t understand that you just don’t want him to potentially get sexualised for a favour. Even if it’s only that he’s stared at as his arms flex in his shirt while he moves the heavy items the elder woman can’t move around the store on her own, you don’t want it to happen without Soonyoung actually wanting to be checked out. You’ve had similar things happen to you so many times that you know that, even if in the moment it’s easy to ignore, if you let it happen once, people will take advantage; and soon, you become an unwilling sexual symbol always touched by unwanted, leering gazes.

Maybe tomorrow you can try to talk to him about it when he’s not caught on the false thought that you don’t want anyone else to look at him, as if you’ve made some claim over him. Even if he still thinks of himself as your property entirely, you haven’t thought of him as yours in a long time now, and you don’t want him to get incorrect ideas about the current state of your relationship.

But for now, you walk off ahead and ignore his delighted little giggles trailing behind you as he obediently follows along to Bunny’s house.

Though, as you get closer to the top of the hill, you slow down to let Soonyoung join your side, then move closer to him, feeling a little anxious over what you’re about to step into. Sure, Bunny seemed genuinely lovely— and very bright and bubbly— but you don’t know what her husband is like, nor do you really know her in any way that matters; so, entering their home to eat food they cooked, and talk about subjects you’re not currently aware of, is understandably making you nervous.

“What’s he like?” you ask in a quick whisper when you’re only metres away from the edge of the path leading up to the front door.

“No idea,” Soonyoung replies with a shrug. “Never met him. But Bunny’s obsessed with him and always has been, so I think that says a lot about him.”

“Or her.”

“Mm, yeah. But I know her, and she’s got good taste in people to befriend.”

“She’s friends with you, and you murder people for a living,” you point out in a mumble.

Soonyoung barks out a quick laugh. “True! Or, well, was true, I’m retired now, baby. My only purpose now is to dote on you.” You don’t have a chance to respond to that— not that you really know what to say in response, so maybe it’s a blessing that he doesn’t wait for a reply—, as you’re now at the front door and Soonyoung’s leaning over the step to knock the pale blue painted wood.

It doesn’t take long for the door to be answered, and the man who pulls it open genuinely makes your brain lag for a second. He, like Soonyoung, is wearing a shirt with far more print than any normal person should look good in— yet both unfairly look great in the busy patterns—, though his is long sleeved and neatly folded up to his forearms; it looks silky and expensive; it looks like it was made to be worn by him and him alone. Yet in complete contrast to the fancy, perfectly creaseless dress shirt, he’s wearing ratty old sweatpants with knees worn so thin that you can see glimpses of his skin underneath. And still, he looks beautiful.

“Hi! You must be Myla!” he says, greeting you first, and urging you in with a wave of his hand. “I’m Jeonghan,” he announces when you’ve stepped inside as requested, and he can carefully hug you— making sure to not press too close to be uncomfortable for complete strangers, or to squish the bouquet in your arms.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say, not sure what else you’re supposed to say or do when meeting a complete stranger who you didn’t even know existed until a few hours ago. But at least it’s not a lie. Something about Jeonghan feels so pure, that you have a good feeling about getting to know him; you think he’ll be a great friend given the chance. And you find that you really do want to take that chance.

“You too, Bunny has told me so much about you!”

“Really?” you question surprised, and Jeonghan hums, nodding. “Oh…” You look at Soonyoung and find him very intently removing his shoes, tips of his ears pinkened. You’re not sure what exactly Bunny has heard from the man— and then passed on to her husband— but you’re pretty sure it involves a lot of Soonyoung praising you, if his suddenly bashful posture is anything to go off.

“And of course, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan coos, turning to the man and immediately bringing him in for a hug as soon as Soonyoung is fully upright again instead of leaning over to neaten up his shoes on the mat. “I genuinely didn’t think I’d ever get to meet you, so I’m really happy you’re here,” he says, voice a little softer in a way that makes you look away, feeling like you’re interrupting a special moment here.

“Me too,” Soonyoung replies in a matching tone, holding the man a little tighter. “Thank you for being by her side these years when I couldn’t,” he adds, and now you definitely know it’s a moment you shouldn’t be a part of— even if you’re not quite sure what it all means exactly—, so you decide to shuffle down the entrance hall after putting your own shoes on the mat besides Soonyoung’s.

The house seems to be set up in the exact same way as your own, with the living room to the right of the entrance hall. When you peer inside, you find a comfortable, welcoming room full of personal touches of the pair— including a large photo of the two of them on one wall, both looking so happy and in love as they beam at one another—, yet no Bunny. You venture further down the hall to the back of the house and find her in the kitchen, fiddling with a handheld mixer she seems to be in the process of fixing at the table.

“Hi,” you greet as you approach, making her look up and smile brightly at you.

“Hey,” she replies, lifting one hand to wave, screwdriver within wiggling in the air, before she lowers it again. “Sorry, just give me a minute to finish this, then I’ll be a good host.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you just being normal and relaxed; I don’t expect anything,” you assure, and sit with her at the table to watch intrigued as she works. “I honestly didn’t even know hand mixers can be fixed at home.”

“Hannie makes me fix everything for everyone in the village. I think he mostly just likes watching me work more than anything,” she muses with a pleased little smile. “I didn’t know how to fix any appliances until we moved here; I was just a mechanic before, so I had to learn a lot, and still am. But I haven’t found out how to say no to him yet. Not that I want to.”

“You really love him,” you comment, amused, but also already endeared with the pair and the love they don’t try to hide for one another.

“With everything in me. I’d do anything for him,” Bunny says, looking more serious than you’ve seen her so far. There’s something in her eyes that makes you think that maybe, she and Soonyoung are more similar than you previously assumed.

“How’s it coming along?” Jeonghan asks as he and Soonyoung enter the kitchen and head right over to the table. Soonyoung takes the seat at your side, resting his arm casually on the back of your chair, while Jeonghan stands on Bunny’s right and naturally puts a hand on the back of her neck, thumb soothing over her skin thoughtlessly.

“I think I’ve almost got it,” Bunny answers, preening when Jeonghan’s fingers squeeze ever so slightly in an approving gesture, a soft smile on his features.

“Well done, darling. Now,” He looks at you and Soonyoung. “Let me get you both a drink. What would you like? We have beer, wine, juice, water, and probably other things too, I just can’t remember right this second.”

“A beer would be great, thanks, Jeonghan,” Soonyoung replies with a grin.

“Only one,” you warn Soonyoung, making him pout. “You’re a lightweight, Soonie, I’m not carrying you home later.”

“Fine,” he concedes with a sigh. “I’ll improve my tolerance now I have the chance!” he decides. “We’ll have boys’ nights with beer involved, right, Jeonghan?” he asks, looking at the standing male with round, puppy-dog eyes.

Evidently, you’re not the only person weak for them, as Jeonghan visibly melts and nods with a sweet, obliging smile, making Soonyoung let out a happy noise. “And what about you, Myla? What would you like to drink?”

“I’m good with anything, thank you,” you reply.

“Beers all round!” Jeonghan decides, then turns to wander off to one of two fridges standing tall in the kitchen.

“Babe,” Soonyoung murmurs, tapping your shoulder with the hand still behind you, so you look at him questioningly. He nods towards your chest, making you look down and realise that you’re still holding the bouquet.

“Oh!” You shuffle to lift the flowers up. “Uhm, we got these for you both,” you announce, making the couple look at you curiously. The way both of their expressions turn soft at the sight of the flowers, and their lips turn up into matching little smiles, makes you feel shy all of a sudden, unused to such sweet expressions turned on you.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” Bunny says. “Angel, can you find a vase out while you’re up?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan agrees easily, already lowering and vanishing behind the kitchen island— you assume to open the cupboard where they must keep their vases. “Which one, darling; the white or clear one?”

“Mm, I think the clear one,” Bunny replies after thoughtfully eyeing the bouquet you hold, her hands still holding tools and the in-pieces mixer.

“Do we have a vase?” Soonyoung asks, looking at Bunny, who shakes her head. “We’ll have to get one,” he decides as he looks at you. “You used to love when I bought you flowers, and the ones here are so much fresher than the city we lived.”

“They are, it was hard to pick, even if the selection wasn’t as broad as back home… There, back there,” you respond, correcting yourself after remembering that the city is no longer your home, nor will it ever be again.

“If you like flowers, you’ll love the meadow at the top of the hill,” Jeonghan says as he approaches, and accepts the bouquet when you lift it in offer. “More wildflowers than I’ve ever seen, and the locals have looked after it well for decades now, including planting a bunch of stuff. There’s even some fruit growing up there, and we’re all free to pick it.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” you reply, lips curling up at the thought. “Do you bake with the fruit?” you question, glancing at the mixer shortly.

“Neither of us know how to bake,” Bunny answers as Jeonghan returns to the island to work on carefully arranging the bouquet in the simple glass vase.

“How did your mixer break if you don’t bake?” you wonder, utterly bewildered.

“Oh, it’s not ours. It’s one of the locals’.” She shrugs, and motions vaguely to Jeonghan, referring back to her earlier words about Jeonghan ‘making’ her fix everything for everyone. You just nod in understanding with a little hum; Soonyoung gives the pair of you a questioning look but doesn’t ask what the silent exchange means.

Not long later, Bunny is finished with the mixer and has tidied up everything, just in time to help Jeonghan cook up a truly delicious smelling dinner. You have no idea what they’re cooking, but you’re excited to try it, and have full intention of asking for the recipe afterwards.

You even offer to help cook, but the couple adamantly refuse on grounds of you being their guest and tell you to stay at the table with Soonyoung. Though, even with the pair across the kitchen, conversation between the four of you doesn’t stop without the need for any of you to raise your voices, even with music softly playing in the background from a source you haven’t yet noticed— not that you’ve tried to.

You’re pleasantly surprised by how easy the pair are to get along with; how natural it feels to be in their home and talk and laugh together. It’s more than you expected to have in your new life; someone other than Soonyoung to be at ease around, and now you have two.

Even once all four seats at the table are full and you’re all enjoying the truly delicious meal, conversation ebbs and flows naturally with no awkward pauses. You’re already looking forward to the next time the four of you hang out and tonight hasn’t even ended yet. Honestly, you don’t think you even felt this way about spending time with your friends back in the city, and it makes you wonder if you were ever as close and content with them as you believed.

“Are there any jobs going around here?” you wonder when plates are empty yet still on the table as the four of you just relax in your seats with your drinks— fresh beers for all but Soonyoung, who keeps pouting into his glass of water— as you let your food go down comfortably.

“You’re not getting a job,” Soonyoung complains, pouting at you. “I said I’m going to look after you. You can do other things, just let me earn the money. I made you lose all of your hard-earned savings, so I need to at least pay that back before you earn a single penny.”

“I’m not used to not working, I’ll go crazy,” you reply, features twisting a little with the thought of having nothing to do all day until Soonyoung returns from work to entertain you. There isn’t even a TV in your house, or computer, and you’re not sure if there’s even any good internet service out here, honestly, so you couldn’t stream any shows or movies even if you did have a device to watch them on.

“Don’t you have any hobbies?” Bunny questions, tilting her head a little.

“She worked all the time,” Soonyoung answers in your place, with a dramatic groan. “I always tried to convince her to work less and take time to look after herself, but she didn’t listen.”

“Considering what your job was, Kwon Soonyoung, you were never in any position to tell anyone to look after themself,” you remind firmly.

“Ha, she’s got you there,” Bunny sniggers. “You were the best and the most fearless; you were always in stupid situations nobody else would brave.”

“That’s because he’s a fucking idiot,” you grumble, and she nods in agreement while Soonyoung whines and pouts at your side. “So, jobs?”

“Hobbies,” Soonyoung immediately corrects, getting over his sulking at being insulted to instead return to his insistence that he’ll provide for the two of you.

“Do you like fishing?” Jeonghan questions, and you shake your head, making him pout a little. “I was going to say you can come out on the boat with me whenever you want. Weather permitting, I’m out every morning.”

“Oh, you have a fishing boat?” Soonyoung asks, leaning forward with big eyes sparkling with innocent intrigue.

“I do! My pride and joy,” Jeonghan coos, and tilts aside to lean his head on his wife’s shoulder. “My darling fixed her up for me in our first months here and keeps her in sea-safe condition.”

“I’ve always wanted to try fishing,” Soonyoung says honestly.

You can’t help but give him a surprised little look; you really thought you knew everything about Soonyoung. He’s never been shy about sharing his thoughts and feelings with you, and once you learned that he was an assassin, it seemed like there wasn’t a secret left in his heart around you. Then again, you never knew Bunny existed until today, and the pair seem really close, so you shouldn’t be surprised that there’s more he’s kept from you.

“Really?” Jeonghan asks with an excited little gasp as he sits up straighter. As soon as Soonyoung nods in confirmation, Jeonghan beams and leans forward, closer to Soonyoung, even if the two men are sitting diagonally to one another. “I’d love to have a helper come out with me!” he enthuses; Soonyoung is already lighting up with his own excitement. “You don’t get seasick, I assume?”

“Nope, even in storms, I’m good,” Soonyoung assures, which just makes you wonder when he’s been on a boat in a storm, but you quickly push it aside and decide not to worry about what Hoshi got up to in the past, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Great! Though I do,” Jeonghan admits, and you notice Bunny sigh softly, looking like she really doesn’t like that her prone to sea-sickness husband insists on going out on a fishing boat every single morning, but she won’t try to stop him. Maybe she once did but eventually relented, though something in you says that she never even tried to argue in the first place. “So, you can drive to the fishing spots and let me rest so that I can fish quicker once we’re still. I usually have to spend half an hour just sitting until the nausea and dizziness goes, but if you’re driving, I can sit the whole time and won’t feel as bad!”

“Sure! I haven’t driven a boat in a while, but I’m sure I can handle it.”

“You can drive a boat?” you mumble in surprise. Soonyoung just looks at you and nods, eyes still sparkling with the thought of going out fishing. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I guess it never came up,” he reasons with a shrug. “I didn’t purposely hide it from you; I promise I only do that with good reason.”

“Now I’m wondering what you’ve purposely hid from me.”

“Uh…Injuries mostly,” he admits. “Though you usually figure those out when you see me, so I’ve said I’ve been away for work when I’ve been recovering from bad injury, so you didn’t see and worry.”

“As opposed for vanishing for months at a time on a fake job?” you deadpan.

“Yeah?” his voice tilts up, knowing by your reaction that he did wrong there, but he doesn’t quite understand how and is no longer confident in his own response.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“You’ve said,” he replies with a nod, not at all offended. You just hum and face the couple opposite you again; they’re both watching amused. “Can I really go fishing with you?” Soonyoung asks Jeonghan, eagerly returning to the conversation.

“Of course! I’d love to have company! It’s early starts though, out before sunrise,” Jeonghan warns.

“I’m used to that.”

“Ah, right, of course.” Jeonghan nods a little and tucks his hair behind his ear out of his face when the strands dangle infront of his eye. “We’ll count tomorrow as a trial, to see if you really do want to take up fishing with me every morning, and if you do, we’ll discuss pay.”

“Pay?” Soonyoung asks, perking up. “As in a job?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Angel,” Bunny starts softly, making Jeonghan look at her. “You don’t even catch anything to sell, just bring home,” she reminds. Jeonghan says nothing, just continues to look at her; it’s only a few seconds of silent eye contact before Bunny visibly relents with a quick few nods. “You’re so right, you deserve to have someone to help you with all your work.”

Jeonghan immediately lights back up, beaming with so much joy that you truly don’t blame Bunny for caving so easily when this is her prize. He turns back around to look at Soonyoung again, immediately beginning to inform him of their plan for tomorrow and potential catches; while you and Bunny make short eye contact and share an amused, yet endeared, little smile for the genuine excitement shared between the two men.

Due to the men having such an early start, you and Soonyoung return home a little before 9pm, when Jeonghan’s starting to look sleepy enough to fall asleep on his wife’s shoulder despite still doing his best to be active in conversation.

Honestly, you’re pretty tired yourself. Weeks of travelling with your body and mind constantly on guard ready for any potential danger, will take more than just a single mid-afternoon nap to recover from. So, you’re happy to get an early night, and get the chance to rest as long as you want.

In complete contrast, you’re pretty sure that Soonyoung is fine to stay up for some more hours; he’s never needed much sleep. Or, at least, he’s been trained to function better on little sleep than a civilian could ever hope to. It’ll catch up to him eventually if he doesn’t get into good habits now, you’re certain of that, but you know it’ll also take him a while to get out of the habit of relying on the bare minimum to survive. You’ll try to get him into better habits soon enough, but for now, you’re too tired to even try, so you’ll leave him to look after himself.

“I’m going to get an early night,” you say when you’ve both removed your shoes and Soonyoung is already heading to the living room.

He stops at your words and turns to look at you. “Oh?”

“Mm, the past weeks have taken it out of me.”

“Ah, right, right. Sorry, kinda forgot about all that already,” he admits in a little mumble. “Not the whole ruining your life thing; I’ll always feel guilty as fuck about that. I just meant that it’s not normal for you. You…handled it a lot better than I expected, I won’t lie. You didn’t complain or ask to rest at all, even if you looked at me like you wanted to push me over the railing on like every boat we went on.”

“You noticed that then.”

“Wait! You really did?!” he squawks, eyes wide and arms flailing a little. “Babe! I was joking!”

“You ruined my life,” you remind flatly, and his arms drop down, face falling too.

“Yeah, I did. I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’m going to do everything I can to give you the best life here possible.”

“I know.” And you really do; you know Soonyoung will go above and beyond to make you happy, especially if he’s the reason you’re not in the first place.

Your confidence in your response, in him, makes Soonyoung’s gaze round out a little, his lips to turn up a little— adoring. “I’ll take the couch,” he says, not an offer but a statement; already decided, with nothing you can do or say to change his mind. Not that you plan to, you think he deserves to sleep on the couch and let you take the bed for what he’s done. Still, you appreciate it and give him a grateful little nod. “Sleep well, my love.”

You pause at the term you haven’t heard him call you in months, the truth to it, before you turn and leave with a simple “Good night, Soonyoung,” floating in the air behind you and the love in his eyes haunting your dreams.

There’s a lot to be said about Kwon Soonyoung, but that he doesn’t love you with everything in him, isn’t one of those things.

As it turns out, Soonyoung loves fishing.

From the very first morning, he returns home with bright eyes and a bounce in his step, excited to tell you about everything he caught, or failed to catch is more accurate. Apparently, neither Soonyoung nor Jeonghan are particularly skilled at fishing, but they don’t care. Jeonghan has always loved the calm he feels fishing, and Soonyoung quickly discovers he enjoys it too; it’s a huge contrast to the high energy life he’s lived for the past three decades with his work and training, so he really enjoys finally getting the chance to just exist without worries.

On that first morning, they catch nothing between them— mostly due to Jeonghan having to teach Soonyoung everything, and Soonyoung’s willingness to ask questions about it all, glad for Jeonghan’s endless patience— but the second morning, Soonyoung succeeds in his first ever catch, and you know that he’s found what he wants to spend the rest of his life doing.

Soonyoung may not be a great fishman yet— or potentially ever— but the thrill in his eyes, the content of his smile as he watches you eat the food he literally provided, is all you need to see to know he’ll go out every single day to bring home whatever he can, just to watch you eat well.

So, Soonyoung has a job pretty much from the first full day on the island; he gets up hours before you and is out until the sun is high in the sky, working as hard as he can while still taking advantage of the calm activity, and enjoying bonding with his new friend. You’re proud of him, in a way, for being so immediately successful and settled in this new life.

Yet, there’s a sour part in you that finds it so fucked that although this relocation and general ruining of your life— that you spent a decade on your own building in that city— is his fault entirely, he’s the one thriving while you’re utterly lost.

Admittedly, it takes you almost a week to recover physically from the past weeks, as now that you know you’re safe, your body decides to break down a little and force you to feel like you’ve gained the worst flu of your life. But thankfully, that passes with a few days of mostly sleeping it away and only getting up when you know Soonyoung will be home, so that you don’t worry him. You know that he’d refuse to go out on the boat if he knows you aren’t feeling good, so that he can look after you and nurse you back to health. But although you think it’s unfair that he’s so happy when you’re not, you never want to take that from him. You’re envious and hurting, not a selfish asshole.

Yet once you’re all better and have your energy back, you find yourself just sitting on the sofa and wondering what the fuck you’re supposed to do if you’re this lost after only a few days up on your feet.

So, although the house was spotless when you moved in— thanks to Bunny and Jeonghan—, and it hasn’t been long enough to get filthy, you scrub it from top to bottom. Just to give yourself something to do. But there’s little furniture or places for any dirt and dust to hide, so it doesn’t take more than two mornings to achieve.

Thankfully, once Soonyoung is back from work, he always hovers around you. Although it could easily be suffocating that he doesn’t seem to want to do anything but be wherever you are, doing whatever you’re doing, you’re honestly glad for his company. He’s always been good at entertaining you and distracting you without even realising it, so you ignore the ire and envy you feel towards him and just let him exist at your side like he did all those months back.

A part of you doesn’t want to admit how nice it is working side by side with Soonyoung again, cooking together, doing chores together, just being together. Of course, it’s not the together he wants, but he doesn’t push in any way and simply accepts whatever you give him with an eager smile on his face.

Still, as much as the afternoons and evenings are lovely— especially when the two of you meet with Bunny and Jeonghan—, the mornings kind of feel like personalised hell. You’re so fucking bored, you fear you might go insane and head back out on the run in the big wide world, just for something to do. Obviously, you don’t want to do that, but damn, you really don’t know what you’re supposed to do to pass the mornings.

It comes to you like some kind of weird epiphany when you’re sitting side by side with Jeonghan in the lounge at his house, both of you watching Bunny and Soonyoung argue over the rules of the obscure little board game the four of you are playing. Your eyes happen to catch on the large photo of the couple on the wall, then travel around, taking note of all the touches that make their house a home, not just a building.

Suddenly, you realise that although it’s been almost three weeks here, you haven’t even had the thought to change anything about your house, and Soonyoung— as everyone knows— is utterly hopeless at interior design, so you think he’s at home wherever he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder for a knife aimed at his back.

It’s still stuck in your head when you and Soonyoung return home and both settle on the sofa with the soothing tea blend he was gifted by the village shopkeeper last week— and immediately fell in love with upon trying it that night, so insists it’s now your shared nightly drink; not that you’ve once complained, it’s genuinely delicious.

“Soonie,” you start, and he hums questioningly in response. “I want to make this our home.”

“Uh…it already is,” he responds, giving you a puzzled look. “You feeling okay, baby? Did you drink too much wine?”

“What? Shut up, I’m not drunk,” you dismiss as you give him a bewildered, and offended, look upon turning your head to face him. “I know it’s technically our home for the rest of our lives, but it doesn’t feel that way. If we’re stuck here, I want it to feel like home, not just a forced situation. Does that make sense?”

“Oh…yeah, yeah, it does.” He nods and pauses to take a sip of his tea before speaking again. “So, what do we do?”

“You don’t need to do anything. I’d like to do it. I’m honestly losing my mind having nothing to do in the mornings, so having this as a project will help.”

“Ah, right.” He hums in understanding. “Okay, whatever you want, baby. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

“I don’t know what things cost here,” you reason timidly.

He’s waving a dismissive hand before you’ve even finished your worry. “Don’t think about that; I’ll handle the cost. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it, okay?”

You stare at him for a moment in contemplation before nodding in agreement, a smile lifting you lips. “Okay, thank you, Soonie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Up until the last few weeks, you’ve never known just how much Soonyoung is a man of his word.

Of course, you’ve never doubted him about it before, because he’s never given you a reason to; he’s always stuck to his word or at least had a very good reason and a thorough apology if he couldn’t— always for reasons out of his own control. But in the past weeks, he’s really gone above and beyond to stick to his promise of getting you whatever the hell you want to make a real home out of your house.

Not once has Soonyoung told you that what you ask is out of his reach; even when it should reasonably be. Being on such a small island, there’s a lot that isn’t easily accessible for any of you, and the delivery boats only come over once a week, but somehow, Soonyoung always has whatever you ask for within a handful of days.

Admittedly, you have been a little worried that he’s been using his less than legal skills and knowledge to acquire your requested items, but all it takes is a smile and simple “it’s all legal, don’t worry, baby” from the man, and the possibility leaves your mind.

Thanks to Soonyoung’s endless commitment to making you happy, and all the ways he can get his way— which you don’t want to think about, especially after he went to help the village shopkeeper in a too small pair of shorts—, your home really starts to feel that way.

You’ve repainted the entire house, traded some decorative pieces with other villagers, bought new rugs and blankets, always have fresh flowers— that Soonyoung brings home— around the house, and have even started to think about what to do with the two empty rooms.

You did say to Soonyoung that he should have the spare bedroom, but he refused, saying that if any of the villagers see a new bed being delivered, they’ll know you two are sleeping separately and question your relationship. It makes sense, especially when your shared backstory includes having no friends or family beside Bunny and Jeonghan, meaning no potential visitors in need of a bed for the night; you can’t reasonably argue the logic, so Soonyoung still sleeps on the sofa every night and you both pretend the spare bedroom doesn’t exist.

The empty separate dining room, however, has stumped you. You really can’t figure out what to do with it. You even asked Bunny and Jeonghan, but they use theirs as an at home workshop for Bunny to fix smaller appliances— the bigger ones she fixes either at the client’s home, or at her garage on the village outskirts. They didn’t really have any suggestions either, seeing as neither you nor Soonyoung have any hobbies or interests that needs its own room, but promised to think about it.

Other than the two empty rooms, you feel like you’re doing a really good job with the house, and Soonyoung seems to feel the same way. Every time you change something, he always oohs and ahs about it when he sees the finished product— and often during the process if he manages to sneak a glimpse.

Sometimes, you think he’s just humouring you and doesn’t really care that you’ve found empty picture frames at the market that match the living room decor, which you hang despite having nothing to put in them yet— though you look out for prints to go in them every market. But you don’t really care that he’s faking his enthusiasm. And only a week later, you find a photo of the two of you in the biggest frame; you don’t even have it in you to ask where he got the photo from when you know it was taken over a year ago back in the city, but your chest fills with warmth every time you see it, so you don’t really care about the mystery either.

Before you know it, you’ve been living on the island for four months already, and although you’re not entirely fluent in the language yet, you can hold conversations well enough, and the villagers are all patient and kind with you.

You’re still not ready to forgive Soonyoung yet, but you find yourself waking less and less angry every single day. Some days, you even forget that this isn’t the life you always wanted, but only for a little while. Only until you remember that this isn’t something you chose but were forced into by your ex-assassin ex-boyfriend. And then that warmth growing in your chest gets doused with ice, and you’re left feeling confused and sore until the cycle repeats again.

Earlier this morning, Bunny arrived at your house and announced that the pair of you are going to go get a late breakfast in the only town on the island— though it’s still the tiniest town you’ve ever seen—, located in the very middle of the island less than half an hour drive away. Of course, you didn’t argue the announcement; you’re always happy to spend time with Bunny, and you don’t get much of a chance to do it without the guys due to how busy she usually is fixing everything in the village.

So, the two of you have spent the past hours in Centre Town— as it’s so creatively called—, with Bunny showing you all the best stores and spots to visit, after a homely breakfast at Jeonghan’s favourite café in the town. Bunny says she doesn’t have a personal favourite café in the town, but because it’s Jeonghan’s favourite, it’s also hers by default, and you’re once again reminded of how adorably whipped for the man she is.

In fact, at every chance, Bunny always mentions Jeonghan, reminded of him in the oddest moments; it’s something that used to annoy you with your old friends back in the city, but with Bunny and Jeonghan, it’s just so pure and genuine, that you don’t think you’ll ever get annoyed by it. It does, however, make you more curious than ever about their story. You’ve learned glimpses of it over the months, but you’ve never asked because it’s never really been on your mind before, but now it is, so, you ask.

“Bun?” you call a little after midday on the drive back to the North Village, where you know the two men will soon be finishing work and getting home, and Bunny never misses a chance to tuck Jeonghan in for his post-work nap.

“Yes, Lala?” she replies, using the nickname Jeonghan first came up with for you only two weeks into knowing them, but the pair have since adopted as your new name. In fact, most of the locals have even started to use it, and honestly, you don’t mind. You think you prefer it than everyone calling you Myla, the name that was borne of Soonyoung’s love for you; it doesn’t really feel right for others to use it.

“How did you and Hannie meet?”

“Oh.” She laughs softly, smiling as she recalls the memory and leaning her head on her fist, elbow on the open window frame and cool air gently blowing back the wisps of her hair that have fallen out of her lazy updo.

You have to admit, right now, she looks like the beautiful love interest out of some kind of indie LGBTQ+ movie about finding yourself on a summer road trip with your first gay love that was never meant to truly be. The thought almost makes you giggle to yourself; you know she’d find it funny too, but the two of you would get distracted from the topic by discussing your fake love story, and you’re genuinely interested in her real one, so you keep the thought to yourself.

“Well, you know, typical story. Girl is out on date with some guy, sees pretty boy struggling to get his car started in the restaurant parking lot while his own date watches and whines about it. Girl offers to help, pretty boy is reluctant as she’s on her own date, but girl insists, and sends their dates off together for hers to drive the pretty boy’s whiny date home and far away. Girl finds out what’s wrong with the car and offers to fix it at her garage. So, they exchange numbers, girl fixes pretty boy’s car and falls for his smile the second it lands on her,” Bunny explains, in probably a not very straight forward way, but you understand. Even if you didn’t, looking at the tender smile on her face, you think that you don’t really need to know their origin story to know the important part of their relationship.

“You two were made for each other,” you say.

“Yeah, I think so too,” she agrees, beaming big and dopily proud. “I know you’re not together, but I think you and Soonie are the same, you know?” You sigh and she makes an understanding sound. “He fucked up big time, but honestly, with how he was raised, I’m not at all surprised. He didn’t even have anything close to family until me, you know?”

“You?” you repeat, raising questioning eyebrows. “How did you two meet? I didn’t even know you exist until arriving here.”

“Ah yeah, well, it was drilled into us to not talk about other Company members since we joined. And by drilled, I mean that in the painfully tortured to learn how to not give up the information to enemies searching for it kinda way.”

“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” you rush out as you shuffle a little straighter in your seat. “Just to clarify, you’re telling me that you worked with Soonyoung?”

“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now?”

“I mean, I suspected, but none of you confirmed it, so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Since we were kids, when the Company took me in; we were raised and trained together.”

“And to clarify, you were an assassin too?”

“Mm,” she confirms with a nod. “Though I was also one of the main mechanics and worked more as a getaway driver. But I was also sent on those kinds of jobs too if it suited my skillset. But Hosh…he really was the best of us all.”

“Right,” you mumble, gaze sliding aside to stare unseeing out of your window as you think about it all. After a few thoughtful moments, you look at her again; she looks entirely at ease, so you know she doesn’t mind the topic. “What happened to you?” She gives you a bewildered look. “You’re here now, have been for over five years.”

“Oh, right.” She nods understandingly, eyes back on the empty road ahead calmly. “I left.”

“What?” you whisper in shock. “Left? Just–just like that?”

“Mm, basically. A few months into knowing Jeonghan, I knew I could never live a normal, happy life with him, so I quit and asked him to run away with me, to where my past wouldn’t ever catch up with us. And here we are. Well, Soon’s here too now, but he’s like a brother to me, the only family I have beside Jeonghan, so I’m glad he’s here and didn’t stay behind much longer.”

“I didn’t know giving it up was an option,” you admit quietly a few seconds later, after you’ve registered her words and what they truly mean.

“For people like Soon and I, they don’t have an option,” she retorts, sounding oddly cocky even with the little snort she lets out with her amusement.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I knew, and still know, so much about the Company that they can’t touch me.” She shrugs, as if it’s as simple as that, as if she really has too much knowledge and material on this Company for them to deem it a smart move to send someone after her.

“And Soonie?”

“He’s Hoshi; everyone’s too scared to even try to kill him.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Yep. They know that if they fail to do it in one blow, he’ll make them regret their entire existence.”

By now, the village is coming into view, and you know that you don’t have much longer to talk to Bunny, because she’ll be off to her husband as soon as she’s parked the car. Your mind is reeling with everything she’s said, but you know there’s something you need the answer to; something you didn’t even know was a question in your mind until now.

“Does that mean he could’ve left at any point, and nobody would’ve gone after him?” You have a feeling you already know the answer, and that you don’t truly want to hear the words, but now that it’s on your mind, you have to ask; you have to know.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Bunny confirms, too distracted driving through the village and determinedly towards the hill to be as attuned to you as she usually is; too distracted to realise that you’re already hurting and her words only make it worse. You don’t want her to stop, not at all, but part of you wishes she’d at least soften the blow instead of being so nonchalant about it. “I mean, they would’ve tried to get him to stay, of course; Hoshi really was the best. But at the end of the day, he’s feared for a reason. He could’ve left if he really wanted to.”

It’s what you knew she would say. It’s what you feared she would say. It’s what you wish she wouldn’t say. But you know it’s the truth.

Ever since Bunny spoke those words earlier, it’s all you’ve been able to think about. Although you tried to push it aside, tried to focus on finding homes for the new knickknacks you bought in town, tried to focus on reading your new book by Soonyoung’s side on the sofa, tried to focus on cooking and eating dinner by his side like you do every night, you can’t.

“Everything okay, baby?” Soonyoung asks when you’re both back on the sofa, usual cups of soothing tea in hands for your nightly routine, and your eyes doing nothing but staring off unseeing, mind lost elsewhere.

“Hm?” you reply, forcing your eyes to focus and find him on your left, to find his concerned frown already locked on you. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re okay; you’ve been spacey all day.”

“Oh.” You lower your gaze to stare into your mug for a few moments as you contemplate if you really want to confront him about this or just try harder to let it go. It doesn’t take long for you to admit to yourself that you won’t ever be able to let it go, that you care too much to do that. “Did you really mean it when you said you loved me?”

Soonyoung is silent for long enough that you can’t help but lift your head to look at him, only to find him looking at you as if he doesn’t even recognise you. “What did you just ask me?” he whispers incredulously.

“If you really did love me when we were together.”

“What the fuck?!” he sputters and quickly puts his mug on the coffee table, along with your own so that he can take your hands into his and hold them securely. “Of course I meant it! Why are you even asking that, baby? What did I do to make you question my love for you?”

“You chose Hoshi over me.”

“What?” His eyebrows furrow as he frowns. “No, I didn’t. It’s not like that at all.”

“Bunny told me you could’ve left,” you inform. His grip loosens on yours a little. “She left it all behind for Jeonghan; because she loves him and wants a life with him, a future. If you wanted that with me, why didn’t you do the same?”

In all the ways Soonyoung could’ve responded, all you expected him to say and do, you didn’t imagine the lack of response, never thought he would have nothing to say, no argument to explain his past choices. It’s all the answer you need.

“Right,” you mutter and pull your hands away to get up and go to bed without another word. Soonyoung doesn’t try to stop you.

Strangely enough, during the days after the revelation, Soonyoung looks as if he feels guiltier than he did when he was leading you across the globe. And unlike those weeks, he doesn’t try to apologise, doesn’t try to talk to you and earn your forgiveness. He gets up hours before you every morning to go to work like usual, comes home to shower and change like usual, then does his own thing away from you.

It’s weird not having him following you around or using your lap as his favourite headrest on the sofa. He doesn’t even join you in the lounge like normal, and you don’t try to get him to. You’re too hurt by what you’ve learned; that Soonyoung never deemed his love for you enough to leave the assassin life behind. That he couldn’t pick a future with you over killing.

Okay, you’re aware that you’ve very likely grossly oversimplifying it, but that’s truly what it feels like. Without him saying a word about it, what else are you supposed to assume? You’ve barely exchanged a handful of sentences since that night, and none of them have been related in any way, so as far as you’re concerned, there’s nothing more to be said about it.

It hurts, but you think that this might actually be the reason you walk away from the man. You don’t know if it’s possible, if there’s even somewhere else for you to go, because you know you can’t live anywhere else unless you want to be held accountable for the corpses Soonyoung created in the city in his fucked-up method of protecting you. And even if you could find another place, you’ve put too much work into making this house your home that it’d be painful to leave it. But you suppose, not as painful as living in the home you made with the man who never loved you enough to walk away from his dark past.

You feel kind of stuck, not sure what to do, how to move forward now. You know you’re unable to forget about it, to look at Soonyoung and not think about it, so you know you have to do something. Yet, you know that the only something you can really do is turn your back on him, but at this point, he’s such a huge part of your life, that you think that a part of you would be left behind with him, and you’re not sure you could ever fill that gap again. Not now.

It’s really not intentional, but you retreat into yourself in the following days, too caught in your own mind to be your normal self. You’re really not up for even leaving the house, so when Soonyoung knocks on your bedroom door to ask if you’re ready to go to Bunny and Jeonghan’s house for the weekly dinner and games night, you say you’re not going. You’re not sure if it makes your heart hurt more that he doesn’t even try to convince you, just reminds you to get dinner, then heads off, leaving you feeling more alone than you’ve felt in a long time.

Though, not even half an hour later, you hear the front door open, and movement downstairs. You really can’t imagine it’s Soonyoung back already, you’re pretty sure he would’ve called up the stairs to let you know he’s back, but you also can’t imagine any of the locals entering your home without permission, even if the door is always locked. It’s safe here, everyone knows each other and looks out for one another.

Yet now, someone is in your house, and you find yourself wishing you accepted Soonyoung’s offer months ago to teach you how to fight past basic self-defence. 

Just when you gather the courage to get out of bed with the intention of going downstairs to confront whoever broke into your home, you hear footsteps ascending the stairs, and you freeze with one foot on the carpet, the other still on the mattress.

It’s only seconds, but you feel like it drags on for hours until the steps stop outside of your bedroom door, and your heart jumps into your throat.

There’s a knock, and to your immense relief, a familiar voice calls through the wood, “Lala, are you awake?”

“Hannie?” you choke out, chest heaving as your lungs rush to fill, and you drop heavily onto your bed to try and tame the shaking of your body as the fear and adrenaline leaves.

“Mm, can I come in?” Shakily, you respond in consent, and then the door opens and Jeonghan appears with his usual gentle smile. Though upon spotting the way you’re trembling, his smile vanishes for concern to take its place, and he rushes over. “Oh, Lala, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“No,” you answer, shaking your head and letting him clutch your hands in his as he sits close to your side, thumbs stroking comfortingly over your knuckles. “I–I didn’t know it was you,” you admit.

“Who did you think it was?” His voice is a low murmur, something like fear creeping in. “Has… has someone said something to you? Threatened you? Made you think they’d hurt you?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assure, squeezing his hands. “Just general fear of a person raised somewhere you could never dream of leaving your front door unlocked, or walk the streets alone at night, even the day sometimes.”

“Ah, right, I see. I’m sorry for scaring you; I didn’t even consider you would be scared. I guess I’ve kind of forgotten that fear now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you have. I hope I do too one day.”

“Me too, nobody should have to feel like this, especially in their own home.” You just hum and nod in agreement. “I brought dinner over, I had a feeling you won’t feel up to making anything, and I think, if anyone understands how you feel right now, it’s me.” You give him a questioning look that he smiles softly at. “Let’s go downstairs, and we can talk about it all over dinner, okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you agree quietly, and let him help you up. He keeps one of your still slightly shaking hands in his all the way downstairs into the kitchen, until you’re sitting down in one of the already set places. He sits opposite you and waits for you to have a drink and start to eat before he lifts his own fork.

For a little while, neither of you say a word, though it’s not awkward or tense, it’s still as calm and comfortable as it always is around Jeonghan. You used to be worried that maybe you wouldn’t get particularly close to Jeonghan due to only really seeing him when Bunny or Soonyoung are around, but he quickly proved you wrong, and makes sure the two of you spend time together alone too. Although he’s obviously closer to Soonyoung due to working with him every morning, you think there’s a special kind of bond with Jeonghan that neither Soonyoung nor Bunny can ever understand. A bond only those with an ex-assassin partner can understand. Or ex-partner, in your case.

“Soonie told us everything,” Jeonghan says when over half of your meals are gone. You lift your gaze to look at him but don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, he told me the next morning. He wasn’t acting like himself, so I asked what was wrong, and he told me the general gist of it yet asked me to not say anything to Bunny, because he knew she’d feel guilty about getting the thought in your head.”

You hum to show that you’re listening and understanding everything; that you agree that Bunny would feel bad about it, knowing that her offhanded words have caused an issue between you and Soonyoung. But you don’t blame her, and you know Soonyoung doesn’t either, though convincing Bunny of that is another matter entirely.

“But when Soonyoung turned up without you tonight, my Bunny couldn’t ignore it, or that there’s obviously something going on with you two, so she made Soonie tell her. Last I saw, she was yelling at him for being an idiot,” he muses.

“Last you saw?”

“Mm, yeah, I was already packing up dinner to come here when Soonie started to explain and left just in time for the yelling to start.”

“Ah, right.” You nod and turn your gaze back onto your plate as you push your food around with your fork.

“Did you know that Bunny wasn’t born into the life they lived?” he questions, making you look at him again, confused about the sudden topic change, but willing to go along with it.

“She said they met as kids, but I didn’t know what that really meant; if she was just with another company before there or something.”

“No. She had a family.” Your eyes widen a little and you straighten up, shocked by the information and wanting to learn more. “She was a normal enough kid, though extremely gifted with mechanics and engineering. All that just kind of makes sense to her in a way I, and most people, can’t wrap our heads around.”

“Yeah, she’s really smart.”

“She is,” he agrees, smiling all softly smitten and proud of his wife. It makes your lips turn up into the first hint of a smile that has graced your features in days now.

“What happened to her family?” you wonder, knowing that something had to have gone tragically wrong for Bunny to end up being trained to be as an assassin as a child.

“They were killed. Turns out, her dad was the son of some big scary gang leader and ran away from it all; and was finally found. His wife was killed first, a few days before Bunny was left with her dad’s friend after making him promise to look after her, and then her dad was found dead that same evening.”

“She remembers all this?”

“Sort of,” he confirms with a little nod. “She has glimpses of it, but she was only nine and it was a traumatic time, so she blocked most of it out and never wanted to try to remember that time. I don’t blame her at all; I wouldn’t want to remember if I were her either.” You hum in agreement. “Anyway, it turns out that the man she was left with works for the Company to train new recruits. He usually worked with adults, but he figured he might as well put Bunny to the test. Of course, she didn’t know the first thing about fighting, but she was stronger than the average nine-year-old due to moving around heavy parts and tools so much, so he saw the potential. He only had her for a few months to get her good enough to be accepted, then sent her to the Company, and Bunny’s records were adjusted to say she died with her dad that day; some kind of murder suicide when he couldn’t face living without his wife anymore.”

“That’s…severely fucked up.”

Jeonghan lets out a laugh. “It is,” he agrees. “But there’s a point to telling you her backstory.”

“There is?”

“Mm.” He nods and has a quick drink before responding. “Bunny knows what it’s like to be loved; to have a family. Soonyoung doesn’t. He was taken in from an orphanage before he could even hold his head up. He was raised by people only interested in creating a weapon, not loving a little boy.” Jeonghan takes a moment to frown off to the side before looking back at you, lifting his lips a little again upon spotting your own frown. “He didn’t know what it means to care and be cared for until Bunny arrived when he was seven, and he finally had a friend. She stood up for him when he was pushed too hard or punished for things out of his control; he was their golden child even then, so he was always held to a standard his little body and mind couldn’t live up to at that point. And the worst part is that he thought it was normal, never fought back because he didn’t know any better. Bunny had to teach him how to just… be a human.”

“I think part of me knew that,” you confess quietly. “He’s…not actually the most adept in ways a kid raised with love and morals should be.”

“He tries.”

“He does,” you confirm without hesitation; you’ve never doubted that about Soonyoung at all. Even when he does the most fucked up stuff, you know he tries to be better; he just needs more time to learn how.

“Which leads us to the issue at hand.” You give him a questioning look. “Bunny did once know a family, a life outside of all of that; she knew better; she knew what love was and that what they did was morally fucked up. She spent nine years in the real world, so she knew what it was like, and due to being a mechanic she’s always had the skills to build a civilian life if she wanted to.”

“And she did, because of you.”

“Yes, exactly.” He nods. “But Soonyoung has only ever known that life. He’s had glimpses of the real world on jobs or when with you, but he…he’s never lived it, not really. He’s killed so many people, has so much blood on his hands and conscience, that he probably never imagined anything else for himself. He probably never thought he deserved anything more, not with the unforgivable acts he’s committed on another’s order.” Jeonghan reaches over the table to hold your hand where it lays limp on the tabletop. “I think that the only way he was ever going to get out of it was this way; to protect the only person he’s ever loved.”

“But…Bunny is his family,” you try to reason quietly. There’s no strength to your voice, it’s all being used up on processing Jeonghan’s words, his explanation to why Soonyoung didn’t put his love for you over his life as Hoshi.

“She is, and he loves her like a sister, but she’s not the woman he wants a life with. Bunny asked him to leave with us five years ago, but he refused, even knowing they may never see each other again. It hurt him to do it, but he didn’t know anything else; had nothing to offer the world in return for letting him live a life away from it all. But to protect you, Lala, he’d do anything, no matter what the world has to say about it.”

Jeonghan leaves not long after cleaning up from dinner; he can tell you have a lot on your mind and need time to process, and you’re grateful for that. Though it doesn’t mean you manage to straighten your thoughts at all.

When Soonyoung gets home a little before 9pm, you’re still laid on your bed wide awake and staring up at the ceiling. Though when he comes up to check on you after you don’t answer when he calls up the stairs to say he’s home, you quickly roll over and pretend to be asleep.

Your heart aches at the gentle way he adjusts the duvet around you and presses a kiss to your hairline. The “I love you” he whispers against your skin almost makes you break, but he doesn’t linger, and soon, you’re left alone with nothing but your thoughts whirling in your mind and tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

For the first time in all the months you’ve lived on the island, you’re awake before Soonyoung. Though, that’s not surprising when you failed to get to sleep last night, mind too busy going over everything Jeonghan said to you; everything you know about Soonyoung and his actions and words towards you.

You know he loves you, you don’t think you’ve ever truly doubted that, despite what the past week suggests. But for a moment, you let a little doubt of his devotion to you in, and it festered into something so painful that you felt you might break in two. You have never doubted Soonyoung’s intentions towards you before this past week, and you never want to again; it really felt like everything you knew about the world was utterly wrong.

It’s taken until now for you to realise just how much you believe in Soonyoung’s love for you, how much you trust him, even knowing all you do about him. You know he’d never intentionally do a thing to hurt you, so he must have a genuine reason for remaining as Hoshi and not asking you to run away with him until the day came he had no choice but to make that move.

When that thought finally settles, finally makes a home in your mind, and refuses to budge, you know that you can’t avoid Soonyoung, or the subject, anymore.

You know it’s too early to have any type of meaningful conversation, Soonyoung won’t be alert enough yet— not when there’s no danger—, and you have been awake for too long to trust that you’ll make sense, so you’ll have the conversation later. But, for now, you can still make the first step.

When Soonyoung stumbles into the kitchen wearing only his boxers, eyes barely open, and hair a mess on his head, you’re momentarily stunned. You had genuinely forgotten that he sleeps in his boxers, and also how good he looks in so little clothing.

Even now, months out of his past life, Soonyoung keeps himself in great physical condition, partly out of habit, and partly because he likes feeling and looking so good. His muscles have always been practical, have never just been for show, but they’ve changed slightly in the time since you last saw so much of him. Before, he was more compact, strong, yet still lithe, and focused on speed and flexibility for the sake of his work. Yet now, Soonyoung doesn’t need to be fast or flexible for his job, just strong enough to lug around equipment and reel in thrashing fish; and the change in job has really shown in the ways his biceps and shoulders have grown bigger, stronger. Even his thighs are bigger— and they’ve always been strong enough to make you feel weak kneed— to support the strength and stamina he now needs.

For a few long moments, you just gawk at Soonyoung, unable to stop yourself checking him out in the utmost appreciation. But the moment he freezes upon realising that he’s not alone for the first time in the morning, your focus returns and you wave a little in greeting before getting back to making breakfast.

“Uhm…you’re up early,” he comments, moving closer to stand around the other side of the counter to you, hands holding onto the edge and blinking rapidly at you as he tries to force himself to wake quicker, become more alert.

“Mm, do you want to go get dressed while I finish getting breakfast ready? It won’t be long.”

“Oh, right, I’m naked,” he comments a little dumbly as he looks down at himself. You also take the opportunity for one final look. “Sorry, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“It’s okay,” you assure, trying to be as casual as you can when you want to insist that he can wear even less more often if he really wants to. But that really isn’t wise to say, or act on, so you keep your libido under check to not risk ruining things.

“Uhm…okay…be right back,” he decides, and though you’re not looking at him anymore, you can feel his stumped expression aimed at you, before he turns and rushes back to the living room to get dressed into the clothes he picks out of the basket of clean laundry he’s kept in there this past week. Usually, all of his clothes are put away neatly in the bedroom along with your own— mostly in case any locals visit, notice them elsewhere, and question why they’re not in your shared bedroom— but the past week, you’ve barely left the bedroom, and he hasn’t wanted to disturb you, so he’s kept his freshly washed clothes downstairs with him for ease of access.

While Soonyoung is gone, you take a quick break from cooking to splash your face with cold water at the kitchen sink and then get back to it before he can return and question what the hell you’re doing. He doesn’t notice anything amiss when he steps back into the kitchen, and you’re very glad about that.

It’s the first meal you’ve shared in a week, and it’s the tensest the two of you have ever been. Soonyoung, although he usually devours anything you cook for him, chews slowly, and mostly just picks and pokes at his food. You’re not doing any better.

With a sigh, you put down your fork and look at him, making him look at you with slightly widened eyes, stopping mid chew, and almost freezing. “We… Did Jeonghan tell you what he and I talked about last night?”

“No,” he replies after forcing himself to swallow, probably too soon based on the way he winces then immediately grabs his glass to soothe his throat with his morning glass of cool milk once he’s done talking. “But I’m guessing it was about us.”

“It was,” you confirm with a few light nods. “He said some things that made me think about it from your perspective, and I think I might understand you better now, but I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re willing.”

Immediately, Soonyoung straightens up from his position hunched over his plate, nodding madly and eyes growing eager. “Yes, yes, of course. I hate that we’re like this, so I want to fix it.”

“Yeah, me too,” you admit quietly, picking your fork back up. “We’ll talk about it tonight, yeah?”

“Hannie won’t mind if I don’t go in today, not if it’s for our sake.”

“I know, but I haven’t slept, so I need to do that so that my mind is less all over the place for this conversation.”

“Oh, oh, right, yeah, I get it.” He nods. “Please go right back to bed after breakfast.”

“I will, it’s hitting me now that I know you’re willing to talk about it.”

“I’m always willing, I just… didn’t know how to say any of it the other day. Bunny helped me straighten it all out in my head last night.”

“Heard she yelled at you.”

“She did,” he confirms with a pout, whining a little. “I deserved it, but I still don’t like it when she does that.”

“She’s your sister, she just cares and wants the best for you.”

It takes Soonyoung a few seconds of just staring at you and blinking a little too much to be normal before his lips curl up into a little smile that looks so innocently happy that you can’t help but smile to yourself as he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, she is. She’s my sister.” He fills his fork and shoves it into his mouth to eat as enthusiastically as normal, with a smile turning his lips up the whole time.

Although you’re awake and fully mentally present when Soonyoung returns from work a little after midday, you don’t start the conversation yet, and neither does he; he goes right up to shower and gets into fresh clothes like normal, and you continue scrubbing the kitchen floor.

Even when Soonyoung is back downstairs, neither of you bring it up. He just refills your empty glass, gets himself a drink, and then kneels on the floor a little away from you to get started scrubbing that patch of tiles.

It’s the first time in a week that you’ve been around each other without any kind of tension between you; you had really missed it. Existing at Soonyoung’s side has always felt so normal and natural, especially the past months, that you really felt lost without him there. Though you know it was your own choice to take the time apart, you still didn’t like it and are beyond glad to have him back.

All the way until dinner, the pair of you just exist like normal; working side by side to tackle chores he hasn’t been able to handle alone, making plans to change the details of your home that aren’t quite homely enough yet, and cooking dinner.

It’s only when you’re both most of the way through eating and Soonyoung is done retelling his work week in depth— something he usually tells you about every day, but of course, hasn’t had the chance so he’s making up for the missed days, and you really don’t mind at all— that, finally, the moment comes.

“So…” he starts, turning his fork in his fingers a little awkwardly. “What–what did Hannie say, exactly?”

You take a moment to make sure the words are right in your head before you put down your cutlery to give him your full focus. Soonyoung immediately copies, wanting to show you that he’s listening and taking this seriously; he doesn’t need to say the words for you to know as much, it’s clear in the earnest gaze locked on you.

“That you never knew anything but that life. Even when you were with me, or out in the world, you were never fully there. You didn’t know anything more, and…didn’t think you deserved more than you had.” Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, but he does nod a little, silently confirming the words, and making your heart ache something awful. It takes you a few seconds to fight past the sudden lump trying to rise in your throat. “That you couldn’t imagine being able to live a normal life, because your skills were related to killing; nothing you can make a living with.”

“He’s right,” he confirms, tone a little bruised around the edges. “I’ve done so much bad shit, like fucking unforgiveable stuff, things I never want to tell you because I never want you to have that image of me in your head. I won’t deny it at all; it’s a source of fucked up pride for me that I was the best; that nobody would take up a hit on me because they were too scared they would fail and they’d then have to face being on my list. Hoshi…he doesn’t deserve happiness; he should have to pay for all he’s done.”

“Soon…” You reach out to him, but he doesn’t let you take his hands even if he clearly wants to.

“I know, I know you don’t see me as him, but I am,” he reminds. “And Hoshi doesn’t deserve this life, can’t function in this world. He doesn’t deserve you, my love, but because of you, I want to try to live in this world. I just couldn’t see a way out of it, not without putting you at risk.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Finally, he leans forward across the table just enough that he can curl his fingers around yours and hold on as if your touch is the only thing that can tether him right now. There’s a pain in his eyes that makes you hold tighter, lean closer; keep him as close to solid ground as you can with a table between you. “They can’t touch me, I know that. But you…I knew if I left, they wouldn’t be happy and they’d get back at me by going after you.”

“Oh…”

“I never want to be the reason you’re in danger, and I hate myself that I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“What?” you frown, tugging his hands sternly so that he’ll pay attention to you and the words you’re about to say. “Are you a fucking idiot, Kwon Soonyoung?”

“I mean…sometimes, yeah,” he replies so innocently honest that you can’t help but laugh. The confused furrow of his brow and the sad drag of his features simply melts away at your laughter. His posture straightens and his eyes light up, lips curling without thought as he admires the smile on your face. “God, you’re beautiful,” he exhales heavily, so full of his affection and awe of you that he is unable to stop it filling his chest and spilling from his mouth.

“Ah, shut up,” you argue, cheeks flushing with the sudden compliment, and one hand lifting to cover your face. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I didn’t!” he insists, and when you peer over your fingers at him, you find him leaning closer with that stupid, endearingly cheeky smile of his on his face. “Your beauty is always on my mind somewhere.”

“Shut up!” you hiss and reach out to put your hand over his face this time so that you don’t have to see the love in his eyes as they remain happily locked on you. “I’ve forgotten what I was saying now,” you complain, dropping your hand down to the tabletop; Soonyoung immediately picks it up to place back on his face— though now cupping his cheek— and he contently leans into your palm. You can’t help but stroke your thumb over his skin, earning a pleased little sigh to spill from his parted lips. After a few seconds, you remember what you were talking about and lift your eyes from watching your thumb move against his sun-kissed cheek, to his sparkling gaze. “I have never felt safer than when I’m by your side, Soonyoung,” you inform, honest and tender. Soonyoung’s fingers hold onto you a little tighter at the words.

“Really?” he whispers in disbelief. You nod. “But you were almost kidnapped a week before getting here.”

“You weren’t by my side then,” you remind. “But I knew you would be, I knew you’d be back any second and protect me.”

“What if I wasn’t though?”

“The thought never crossed my mind. I have always believed in you, Soonyoung. I’ve always known you’d never intentionally hurt me.”

“Then why did you leave me because of Hoshi?” He frowns; looking as if the pain in his eyes has weighed him down since the day you broke up with him over a year ago. “If you knew I’d never hurt you, why did you break my heart?”

“Because I was scared you wouldn’t come home to me one day.”

“Baby, I’ll always come back to you,” he promises firmly.

“I know you’d try, but every time you came back injured, even slightly, I was reminded what you did, who Hoshi was, and that you won’t always be the best. I couldn’t handle that; the thought that one day, the tables could turn and you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, to come back to me.”

“Baby…”

“I figured that it was better I ended things and put distance between us, so that by the time that day arrived, I wouldn’t ever know. I could just go about my life blissfully ignorant and never know the day yours ended too soon.”

Soonyoung’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens, yet nothing comes out for a few long seconds. And when it does, it’s a pained type of exhale before he’s up on his feet and moving around the table to kneel on the kitchen tiles beside your chair. When he gently tugs, you scoot your chair back and let him turn your seated form to face him, allow him to securely hold your hands in his and press them to his mouth briefly. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, sounding more broken than you’ve ever heard him, even the day you broke his heart and he cried and begged you to take the words back, he didn’t sound this torn up. “I never– I never realised, never considered it from your point of view. If I had…”

“You wouldn’t have been able to quit,” you remind gently, freeing one hand from his hold to gently brush his hair back. “It doesn’t matter if you knew or not, Soonyoung.”

“No, but I would’ve listened to you,” he says, voice catching a little. “If–if I knew the real reason you broke up with me, I would’ve stayed away. I never would’ve tried to win you back. I never would’ve fucked up like this, and you could be…happy.”

“Soonie,” you exhale and pull him into the space between your knees to curl over him and hold him close. His arms wrap around your waist, fingers gripping onto your shirt for dear life as he buries his face in your stomach. “This is never what I expected my life to look like; I never could’ve imagined running away and having to learn an entirely new language and culture, but I…I’m not unhappy here. This past week has been hard, and it was at first too, but it’s not all been bad. We’re building a life here and…I’m glad you’re here with me. I can’t imagine you not being around, so please don’t do something stupid on the boat and fall overboard into the propeller.”

Soonyoung snorts a laugh and essentially nuzzles into your waist, making you yelp at the ticklish sensation and pull him back by a fistful of hair. He grins at you, cheeky, and a little sleazy, making you let him go to nudge him back. “Hey, I thought we were making progress there,” he declares, pouting as he obligingly crawls backwards as you give him a stern look.

“We were having a nice moment until you looked at me like that!” you respond, pushing him back with your foot against his chest when he leans forward again. He groans dramatically and lets your nudge topple him onto his back, where he lays feeling sorry for himself, staring up at the lazily swirling ceiling fan as you return to your dinner.

In fact, he’s still laid there when you’re done eating, and he makes no effort to move when you get up with your dirty dishes in hand. “Just step over me,” he offers, motioning vaguely with a put-on sigh. You give him an unimpressed look. “What? You step over me all the time!”

“I’m wearing a skirt, pervert.”

Immediately, he smirks at you, and you know he hadn’t forgotten that fact. “And? You saw this morning when I was in my boxers, it’s fair I see your panties in return!”

“That was your choice to walk around in your underwear,” you deadpan.

“I didn’t expect you to be up!” he defends, whining. While he’s pouting, you step over him, and he cheers back up at the view he gets under your skirt when you step over his head. Admittedly, you could’ve stepped over his waist, or chest, or just walked the long way around to get past him, but you’re feeling kind…okay, you just want to tease him with what he can’t have as payback for this morning. “Yes!” he exclaims excitedly, pumping his fists a little, then starts to wax poetic about how pretty your underwear are and how he’s missed seeing them on you, all while you make sure to keep your back to him as you wash your dishes, just so he doesn’t see the smile on your face.

Over the following days, things with Soonyoung are better than ever. That talk you had seems to have fixed issues you didn’t even know existed. Maybe there was a part of you both that needed those things said aloud, you just didn’t realise it on a conscious level. Or maybe the planets have just aligned to put you in each other’s immediate orbit. You don’t know what the exact reason is, but you’re glad of it and don’t have any intention of questioning the new kind of ease between you.

Honestly, you keep expecting him to try and win you back now that things are so good, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t push any boundaries, doesn’t make any remarks, and keeps sleeping on the sofa without question or complaint.

A few times, it’s you who almost changes things, not with your relationship exactly, but because of the sleeping situation, yet always bite the offer back at the last second.

Due to Soonyoung usually being gone for work hours before you’re even awake, you’ve never before seen the way he rubs his aching neck every morning. But the past few days, storms have hit, rendering the sea far too deadly to traverse, so he’s been getting up a little later and you earlier, unable to sleep through the relentless rain and thunder, giving you the chance to see the ache on his features.

Still, he doesn’t say a word and always does his best to hide his discomfort when he realises that you’re already awake and witnessing it. You know he’d love to climb into bed with you every night, and that he’d likely jump on the offer should you give it, but there’s something stopping you. You just have no idea what that something is.

Despite there having not been a storm for a few days now, Soonyoung and Jeonghan are off work. Well, Jeonghan is, Bunny claimed Soonyoung’s muscles to help her fix up things around the village that got damaged during the storm.

Though, that doesn’t mean you’re home alone, not at all. Jeonghan has decided to spend the morning with you at your house, helping you rearrange the living room because you don’t like that Soonyoung sleeps directly under the window with a broken latch. Admittedly, you could just replace the latch— and you plan to once you can get to the hardware store in Centre Town— instead of moving the heavy furniture around, but this is what you’ve decided to spend your day doing, and Jeonghan doesn’t even question it.

At least, he doesn’t at first, but Jeonghan— although an angel and the nicest person you’ve ever met— has this innate ability to just know when there’s something unsaid, and he’s not in the habit of ignoring it. “So,” he says when you join him with fresh, cold drinks where he’s now lounging on the couch to get his breath back from helping you heave the furniture around the living room to its new home. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you suddenly moving the sofa?”

“Oh, the latch is broken,” you inform, pointing to the window opposite you both. “It makes it draughty underneath, and I don’t want Soonyoung sleeping in a draught and getting ill.”

“That makes sense,” he hums, and you nod in agreement before sipping at your drink. “What doesn’t is the fact he’s still sleeping on the couch, Lala.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because you’re not mad at him anymore.” That makes you look at him questioningly. “Sweetheart, you let him sleep down here initially because you were mad at him for uprooting your life and being the reason you’re a wanted woman.” You nod slowly, agreeing, but not sure where exactly he’s going with this and feeling a little off kilter suddenly. “But you’re not mad at him anymore, about anything.”

For a second or two, you just stare at Jeonghan, processing what he’s said. You can see his lips turn up into a little amused smile as his words settle in your mind, and you know that he can see the revelation happening on your features.

“Oh,” you mumble, and he giggles. “I’m not mad at him anymore…at all.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh.”

“Mm, so, going to let him know?”

“I…will think about it,” you decide, still not sure why you’re keeping up that final wall, but you’re not quite ready to knock it down yet.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jeonghan agrees easily, and pats your knee. “You take all the time you need, Soonie isn’t going anywhere.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He pats your knee once more, then leans aside to put now empty glass on the side table, before getting up. “Come on, let’s finish this and then go out for lunch; I want to show you a café in the West Village I think you’ll really like!”

Usually, you’re at home when Soonyoung gets back from work; you’ve never actually seen him on the boat before, and you especially haven’t been on the docks with Bunny waiting when the boat pulls in. Though seeing the way Soonyoung lights up bright enough to rival the midday sun upon spotting you there waiting, you think you might have to start making a habit of it.

“Baby!” he screeches, letting go of the wheel with both hands to wave at you brightly.

“Don’t let go of the wheel!” you yell back, noticing the boat veering. Soonyoung’s hands immediately return to the wheel with a sheepish grin, and an apology tossed over his shoulder to Jeonghan, wherever the older man is.

Not even ten minutes later, the boat is safely docked and tied up, and Soonyoung is bouncing along to you excitedly. “What’re you doing here?!” he exclaims, and almost reaches out to hug you, but then he remembers that he’s very sweaty, and pulls his arms back to himself with a little pout.

“We were just leaving the store when we saw the boat, so we thought we’d meet you two,” you answer, motioning vaguely to Bunny, where she’s closer to where the boat’s docked and cooing over her motion sick husband as he lays sprawled on dock with his eyes closed and a pout on his lips, soaking up the doting.

“Ooh, makes sense,” Soonyoung replies, nodding in understanding. “Wanna see the fish I caught?!” he asks suddenly and grabs your hand to lead you to the boat, help you aboard, and over to the icebox hidden out of the sun’s bright rays. “Look!” he enthuses, opening the tightly shut lid to proudly lift the biggest fish he’s caught so far.

“Wow!” you respond, impressed, but mostly playing it up just to watch Soonyoung beam and wiggle a little in his place. Even when he starts to prattle on about how he caught it and how he almost thought he lost it, you just continue to stare up at him with a smile, more than happy to listen to him talk about whatever he wants when he looks so thrilled about it. “Hannie says I’ll be promoted if I keep this up!” he informs as he leads you back off the boat with the icebox in his arms— you’re glad he’s slightly behind you so that you can’t get distracted by his bulging biceps and fall overboard.

“Promoted to what?” you hear Bunny question in a confused mumble, but Jeonghan just giggles tiredly, Soonyoung doesn’t seem to even notice, and you’re just content to bask in Soonyoung’s glowing pride, so you don’t let her bewilderment linger in your mind. She doesn’t press it either and instead gets to work helping Soonyoung lug everything off the boat to allow her husband to rest longer.

Of course, you wait with Jeonghan on the dock, sitting at his side and ignoring his teasing grin to instead admire Soonyoung’s strong physique now that you’re sitting safely and can’t swoon over into the sea. Though, you do let that thought run a little wild, just to imagine Soonyoung diving in after you to wrap his strong arms around your waist and heave you out of the water; the way his clothes will stick to his muscled body and water will drip off.

At least, you think about it until Jeonghan nudges you and you realise you’re literally gawping at Soonyoung; mouth dropped open and eyes big and dumb as they remain locked on him. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, just grins at you teasingly, before he gets up and wanders off to help now that he’s no longer nauseous.

As soon as Soonyoung is finished doing everything he needs to for work, he’s right by your side, still grinning brightly, and all but bounces at your side the entire walk home— even with a heavy icebox in his arms.

“I was thinking, we can try that recipe you liked the look of; the one from the new book I bought in the West Village the other day,” you suggest as the two of you go into the kitchen, where Soonyoung puts the icebox on the counter.

“Really?” he asks, somehow looking even more excited than before; invisible puppy-dog tail wagging a mile a minute behind him. “Oh.” His mood suddenly dampens and he looks a little disappointed all of a sudden, bewildering you. “We can’t. That’s a low and slow recipe, we need to be here to watch over it, but we said we’d go to the hardware store today to get a replacement latch for the window.”

“I’d rather stay home with you,” you admit.

“With me?” he whispers, sounding surprised and awed all at once.

“Mm, no-one I’d rather spend the afternoon with,” you confirm, and just like that, puppy-Soonyoung returns, all but vibrating with his joy and smile so big you think it must hurt. But he doesn’t complain, just silently turns and skips off upstairs with a cheesy love song spilling from his lips as he goes.

When Soonyoung returns from his shower, he’s still floating on his joy, and can’t seem to stop himself from wrapping you in a hug once he’s in the kitchen where you’re preparing everything but the fish according to the recipe. His arms go around your shoulders from behind, head tilted against yours, and his chest rumbles at your back as he contently hums lowly, swaying the two of you in time to his wordless song; and you don’t even consider pushing him off. If your hands weren’t dirtied from the ingredients on the board before you, you’d have likely even put your hands over his arms encouragingly and leaned back against him, but they are, so you just let him sway you both for a handful of seconds.

Without a word— though still happily humming away—, Soonyoung lets you go and moves over to get started on preparing the fish. You only have a few more things to do, and then you wash your hands and just lean against the counter to admire how great he looks wielding that knife, confident. It’s very attractive.

“What?” he asks, voice a little low and one side of his mouth curved up slightly after a few minutes of your silent watching.

“Just admiring your skill, problem?” you retort.

“Never got a problem with your eyes on me, baby,” he flirts, winking at you before focusing back on his work.

“Good to know,” you reply lowly, deciding to flirt back. Soonyoung freezes in shock, then lifts his head to look at you with eyes wide and mouth parted, though you’re already turning away to get the pan ready for the fish with a sly little grin on your lips.

It’s when you’re about to step foot onto the bottom stair ready to go up to bed, Soonyoung already making up the sofa in the lounge, that you really think about it, and realise that you have literally zero reasons for making him sleep on the sofa. Especially when you’re adult enough to admit to yourself that you don’t want him to sleep on the sofa anymore.

Determinedly, you return to the living room, just in time to see Soonyoung peel his t-shirt off. You short-circuit for a moment, though manage to get yourself back on track just as his hands reach for the tie of his shorts. “Soonie.”

Immediately, his head jerks up to look at you in surprise. “You okay?” he checks, hands dropping to his side and eyebrows furrowing with the start of worry. “Is there a bug? If it’s wider than my pinkie and has wings, I’m sorry but your room belongs to it now.”

“No, no bug,” you assure with a soft laugh. “Come to bed.” Instantly, his eyes bulge and his mouth audibly pops open. “Hm?” You don’t wait for him to respond, and instead turn and head upstairs, though you’re barely off the top one before you hear him let out a victorious noise before rushing around— likely to tidy everything up.

By the time you’re done in the bathroom and have returned to the bedroom wearing one of his t-shirts like normal, Soonyoung’s perched on the edge of the bed, still wearing his shorts, and looking like he’s never seen the room before.

“Aren’t you going to lay down?” you muse as you cross the room to climb up onto the bed and get comfortable in your usual place.

“Is that my shirt?” he whispers dumbly. You just nod. “You’re actually going to kill me,” he declares before getting up. “Gotta brush my teeth.” You only hum, and then he rushes off to the bathroom.

When Soonyoung returns a few minutes later, he shuts the door quietly behind him and kicks off his shorts, before padding over and climbing into the empty gap beside you a little tentatively. Though when you only watch him quietly and don’t show any sign of discomfort, he relaxes and turns the lamp off before settling down.

There’s probably a lot that could be said right now, a lot that should be said, but you don’t say a word, neither does Soonyoung. You both slowly fall asleep more content than you have been for a long time.

It really shouldn’t surprise you at all, you know how affectionate Soonyoung is, but for a split second upon waking up to the sound of an alarm ringing, the body pressed against your back and secure arm around your waist almost makes you panic.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung’s low, rough morning voice murmurs directly behind you before he lets you go to roll away and turn off his alarm clock— you hadn’t even noticed last night that he brought it upstairs. Without thought, you whine and blindly reach behind you to grab his arm and pull him back to you. Soonyoung chuckles, burying his face in your hair, and holds you tighter, not at all complaining about the silent demand for affection.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, comfy and content in Soonyoung’s embrace, almost dozing back off, but you know it can’t be that long really; he’s always been good at tracking time, even with his back turned to the clock.

“I gotta go to work, baby,” he announces softly, trying to untangle himself from you, but you lace your fingers with his and shuffle backwards until you’re as close to him as possible. “Baby,” he chuckles, sounding far too happy about this to even pretend to argue.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” You curl your left arm over his, bending his with your own so that you can tuck your connected hands up under your chin.

“Want me to stay?” You nod and he lets out a deliriously happy little giggle that makes you almost giggle too, he sounds so cute. “Okay, I’ll call out from work today,” he decides, making absolutely zero attempt to even pretend to be against the idea, not when you’ve said you want him to stay. He’d do pretty much anything you say, honestly, especially if it involves getting to hold you for longer.

Pleased, you hum in approval, letting your eyes close with every intention of going back to sleep. Unfortunately, your conscience kicks in and makes you unable to truly agree with the plan. With a disappointed exhale, you loosen your hold, shuffle away, and give him his arm back.

“Baby?” he questions utterly bewildered and pouting slightly when you blearily peer over your shoulder at him. “I’m not going to try anything, we can just cuddle,” he promises, making you smile amusedly; you’d laugh but you’re still too tired.

“Bunny would tell us off if you stay home without good reason,” you point out.

“Being with you is the best reason!” he defends, looking genuinely offended that you’d say otherwise.

“Not when it means Han going out to sea alone; you know how protective she is.” Soonyoung deflates and rolls face down to groan into his pillow. “Exactly, so, off you go. See you later,” you say, and take the chance to pat his ass— it’s right there, it’s impossible to resist—, before you turn back over and get comfy.

“Touch my ass again,” he requests, then cracks up when you blindly reach back to hit him, though he’s already rolled out of bed, so you just hit empty air. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Go back to sleep, I’ll see you later, baby.” You just hum, and then he’s out of the room and making sure to shut the door behind him so that he doesn’t disturb you any further as he gets ready for the day.

After waking up pressed together the first morning after sharing the bed, it seems only natural to cuddle every night. It happens without any discussion too; you just tuck up against Soonyoung’s side the second night, and he doesn’t hesitate to put his arm around you as if it belongs there.

It’s not just at night that the affection reappears at full force as if you never broke up and it was forced to a stop. At every available opportunity, Soonyoung approaches you to put his arms around you and hold you close. The first time you curl up against his side on the sofa, he gets so happy that he doesn’t stop giggling, and consequently ruins the calm cuddling, causing you to move away from him; but he calms— mostly— and pouts so cutely at you that you can’t fight the urge to crawl right back into his arms.

Still, even with sharing a bed every night, even with holding one another at any given chance, even with moments where you’re certain Soonyoung wants to lean in and kiss you just as much as you want him to, things don’t really change. The two of you are in some kind of weird, unlabelled middle ground where you can’t realistically say “we’re just friends” anymore, but you also can’t say you’re in any kind of romantic relationship. Which, you don’t really mind, you’re genuinely enjoying all the affection and don’t really see the need to change things.

But once again, it’s Yoon Jeonghan who puts everything in motion.

“No! That’s cheating!” Soonyoung accuses, pointing a finger at Bunny from feet away, the pair standing in the middle of Bunny and Jeonghan’s living room, arguing yet again over the rules of a game. Soonyoung always accuses Bunny of cheating, Bunny argues back because she hates the false accusations, and you and Jeonghan just watch it all happen and wait for the moment Soonyoung realises he just hasn’t understood the game, again.

You’d think that after this many weekly game nights, Soonyoung would understand the rules of the games the four of you always play, but nope; the man can kill a person 57 ways with a piece of string, but he can’t understand the rules of a game with a minimum recommended age of 8 years old.

“So,” Jeonghan starts quietly, leaning closer to you where he’s sitting on your left on the sofa, bowl of popcorn in the space between you and almost gone thanks to the weekly dramatic entertainment of the pseudo-siblings before you.

“What?” you wonder, giving Jeonghan a suspicious side eye.

“Just wondering when you’re going to tell him you’re still in love with him.” He shrugs and tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth. You blink at him a few times, then ever so slowly, turn your head forward to look at Soonyoung.

And then it hits you, right here and now, that Jeonghan’s right; you’re in love with Soonyoung. You’re still in love with Soonyoung.

You realise that you never fell out of love with the man, not really, you just convinced yourself you had because it was for the best. Admittedly, you weren’t wrong when you first decided to stop loving him; it really was better for you then to lose all feelings for the man. But it’s been over a year since then. It’s been months since you stopped being angry at him, since you let him back in. Not that you were doing a very good job of keeping your heart closed to him before then.

“Oh,” you whisper on an exhale, and hear Jeonghan’s pleased little giggle to your left, but you don’t pay it any attention, your sole focus is on Soonyoung and Soonyoung alone. Because Jeonghan is right— again— about you being in love with Soonyoung, and he’s right in his implication that you should tell Soonyoung. Without a thought besides “fuck it”, you decide to follow his words. “Soonie!”

Immediately, Soonyoung turns his head to look at you, his expression turning so soft and adoring, smile lifting his previously angrily pouting lips. “Yeah, baby?”

“Let’s get married.”

Jeonghan cracks up, tilting aside and leaning on the arm of the couch to his left with how sudden and hard he starts to laugh. “Not what I meant!” he wheezes.

Though, again, you’re not paying his amusement any attention and are instead focused on Soonyoung. Soonyoung who doesn’t seem to be fucking breathing. Worried, you get up and rush over to hold his face as he keeps his eyes glued to you, and his hands instinctively lift to hold onto your wrists. “Breathe, baby,” you encourage, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

Thankfully, Soonyoung is prompted to act like a functioning human and sucks in a harsh breath, coughs on it a little, but quickly returns to breathing properly. “Y–you want to marry me?” he whispers out, sounding choked and disbelieving. You nod, smiling a little, encouragingly. “Because of the locals? Because of the story we’re together and–and marriage is the next natural step in a story like that?”

“I truly, wholeheartedly, without hesitation, can say that I do not give a fuck what they think, Soonyoung,” you assure, amused by his reaction. You didn’t know how he’d react— honestly, you haven’t ever thought about proposing to him before, so it’s understandable you’ve never considered his reaction before— but you’re very surprised by his reaction and never would’ve expected it.

“You don’t?”

“Not in the slightest bit.”

“Then…why?”

“Why did do I want to marry you?” He nods, looking so adorably lost, yet hopeful at the same time. “I want to marry you, Kwon Soonyoung, because I am so violently in love with you.”

Soonyoung barely gets a surprised, soft inhale out, before he’s surging in to kiss you. Of course, you don’t hesitate to respond, and wrap your arms around his neck, his own winding around your waist as he melts against you.

“Ew!” Bunny exclaims, though she sounds fondly amused, while her husband cheers and claps from the sofa in between his pleased giggling. “Okay, great, we’re happy for you, congrats, now either detach and lets finish the game, or go fuck in your own house.”

You and Soonyoung do as requested and stop kissing, chests heaving as you lock eyes, and then immediately and silently decide to rush out of their house, with the pair laughing and catcalling behind you both.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Soonyoung calls, slowing and making you slow down too, only a few metres away from your house.

“Yes?” you reply, turning to look at him, feeling impatient now that you’ve got the chance to have your way with the unfairly attractive man for the first time in over a year, but always willing to slow down and hear him out when he requests it.

“Are you sure about this?” he checks, turning a gentle kind of serious as he gently brushes your hair away from your face with the hand not pressed palm to palm with your own.

“Fucking?” you ask bewildered.

“No,” he chuckles. “I know you’re good with that, we’re great at that together.” You nod in enthusiastic agreement— you two really did have a great sex life together back then—, and he giggles at your reaction. “Glad you agree.”

“I do, so let’s go inside and—”

“No, no, baby, I’m not done.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mean are you sure about the sex, I meant us. You just asked me to marry you, and I want to make sure that you really mean it; spending the rest of our lives together.”

“Of course I do,” you assure and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, and I want this to be real, not just a cover story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too, I’ve always wanted that.”

“I know.” You frown, guilty and apologetic, but he kisses your head and you know he forgave you long ago, if he was even holding it against you in the first place. Knowing Soonyoung, he never blamed you, was never upset with you, just the situation he got you both into, and upset at himself. “I’m sorry it took me this long to realise that I never stopped loving you.”

“Oh… really? I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that. You’re a lot of things, Kwon Soonyoung, but capable of doing anything to make me hate you, isn’t one of them.”

“Good.” Satisfied with your answers, he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise for a long, happy future together, yet also a threat that you won’t be able to walk in the morning without your thighs shaking. And honestly, you’re more than okay with that.

Kwon Soonyoung is a lot of things: cheeky, handsome, fun; still a lightweight with alcohol, great in bed, terrible with technology; in wonderful physical condition, quick on his feet, observant; once a highly sought after assassin, now a mediocre fishman, and awful at board games. But mostly, he’s the man you love with everything in you, and you’re more than happy to spend the rest of your life by his side.

Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle, @jaja-salute

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Mr. Min Part Three: Apologies and Art - M.YG

🎶Who: Min Yoongi (BTS) x female reader. Jeon Jungkook (BTS) x female reader. 🎶What: Some humour. Fluff. Suggestive (18+). Slow burn. Strangers to Friends to Lovers. Single parent Yoongi. Music teacher Yoongi. Child Taehyung. Child Jihoon. Ex husband Mingyu. Best friend Mingyu. 🎶Word count: 9.2k 🎶Warnings: Autistic/ ADHD child Taehyung. Autistic child Jihoon. Bit of an emotional meltdown due to emotional overwhelm and insecurity. Jungkook is eternally horny for reader tbh. Suggestive themes. Implied Jungkook x reader. Profanity. Reader and Mingyu have the healthiest relationship ever, and I just want to point that out. I love them. Actually, tbh, I think I love all the characters in this series, they’re all so wholesome. 🎶Summary:

Even before you meet him, Min Yoongi owns a piece of your heart.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

My general masterlist

🎶Mr. Min Masterlist. Previous Chapter. Next Chapter.

Honestly, you always find it weird when you don’t have Taehyung present on a non-school day.

When Mingyu’s home on weekends and holidays, the three of you do things together, and he only really has Taehyung alone when you work or are ill. You’ve suggested they can do things without you if they want, but both of your boys always want to do things as a family, and really, you love it and are more than happy with family time.

They spend plenty of time together playing at home while you’re in another room, so it’s not at all like Mingyu doesn’t willingly spend time one-on-one with his son. He’d always be with Taehyung if he could, but he also loves his job, and you know he’d lose his mind if he didn’t have that balance. Mingyu really is the best dad Taehyung could ever need or want and does everything possible for the little boy.

Still, you don’t get much time truly without your son unless he’s at school, and even then, you’re usually looking after the house or working.

So, when you wake up when you hear the pair leave the suite— only loud enough because one of them shuts the door a little too loudly—, you immediately wonder what you’re supposed to do to occupy yourself until lunch time. You know they will be back a little before midday to change so that the three of you can go down to the restaurant to eat, but that still leaves you with a few hours to kill.

At first— upon realising that it’s barely past 9am—, you try to go back to sleep, but the suite is too quiet, too empty without them.

Although you and Mingyu sleep separately at home, the suite only has two bedrooms, which means you’ve been sleeping in the same bed; and despite it being a king-size, he’s been stuck to your back and snoring into your neck the past nights. So now that he’s not here, making you overheat and deal with his snoring almost in your ear, you can’t sleep.

Stubbornly, you try to get back to sleep for what feels like hours, yet when you open your eyes and look at the time on your phone, it’s barely been half an hour. Frustrated, you groan and kick the duvet off to get out of bed and toddle to the bathroom to use the toilet, brush your teeth, and wash your face to freshen yourself up a little.

For a little while, you aimlessly meander around the suite, tidying up and checking that you all have enough clothes and toiletries to last the rest of the trip, but that doesn’t last long at all.

There’s a basket of fruit on the table in the kitchenette— a gift from the hotel to all guests—, though the contents are mostly gone now thanks to Mingyu always picking at it when he walks past, and Taehyung copying his dad. You’ve had some too, of course, but you honestly haven’t really been to the kitchen area much as you’ve been eating at the restaurant, and Mingyu has been handling snacks and drinks, always so happy to dote on his family when he can.

With not much else to do and knowing lunch is still a couple hours away, you decide to grab the melon from the basket and cut it up. You still don’t understand why exactly the hotel supplied things that need cutting like this; especially as you soon discover there isn’t even a knife in the kitchen big enough to handle the task.

“That’s fucking stupid,” you mutter once you’ve thoroughly searched the kitchen area in search of a big, sharp knife, yet all you find are dinner knives that are barely sharp enough to cut the grapes— as Mingyu found out on the first day of your stay.

Just when you grab the suite phone with the intention of calling the front desk to request a good knife or at least ask someone to come and cut the melon up for you if they won’t allow you to have a sharp kitchen knife, there’s a knock on the suite door.

For a moment, you think it could be Jungkook coming to seduce you upon knowing Mingyu and Taehyung are out, but then you wipe that thought away knowing that he wouldn’t try to have sex with you in the bed you’re sharing with Mingyu, it’s far too disrespectful. Also, the man’s probably still asleep himself, or in the bed of another wedding guest he spent the night with.

You really have no idea who could be knocking on your door at barely 10am; you don’t think Mingyu and Taehyung would be back already, and they would have a key card anyway. Then again, it’s easy to accept that Mingyu’s forgotten the card, but still, it’s too early for them to return.

Puzzled, you put the phone back down and walk to the door. When you peer through the spyhole, you’re surprised to find a newly familiar pair of faces on the other side.

“Hi,” you greet once you open the door to look at the father-son duo.

“Hi,” Yoongi responds a little awkwardly. “Did we wake you?”

“No, I’m just having a lazy time,” you answer honestly, explaining why you’re in your pyjamas with unbrushed hair still.

“Ah. Is it okay if we come in to talk?”

“Sure,” you consent and step back, giving the pair space to walk into the suite. “Did you get one of these fruit baskets?” you wonder after shutting the door and returning to the kitchen with the pair toddling after you politely.

“Yeah, we’ve barely touched it though, it’s far too much for us.”

“Gyu’s a bottomless pit,” you muse. “Do you happen to have a knife in your room?” you wonder, poking at the melon on the counter in front of you with a little pout, suddenly craving it even more.

“I have no idea; we haven’t used the kitchen other than the fridge and cups.”

“Ah, I’ll have to call down and request one, then.”

“They supplied melon and pineapple without a knife to cut it?” Yoongi asks in disbelief. You give him a look that reflects your feelings on the matter, making him chuckle. You hum, lips lifting a little at his amusement before you glance to Jihoon, who is looking around the suite with a frown. Yoongi follows your gaze, then his son’s, before looking back at you. “Is Tae in bed?”

“Oh, no, he and Mingyu are with Jin and Cel at the pool.”

There’s a sudden sniffle before Jihoon lifts his hands to cover his face as he starts to cry, alarming you, though you quickly gather yourself and lead them to the lounge, so they’ll sit on the couch while you grab the box of extra soft tissues from the side unit to bring over and offer.

“Thanks,” Yoongi says, carefully plucking a few of the tissues from the box after putting it on his lap, then handing them to Jihoon as you sit on one of the armchairs to give Jihoon as much space as possible without abandoning them in the lounge.

You expect Jihoon to calm with time, especially with his dad’s gentle voice murmuring to him soothingly now and then, but the boy continues to cry, rocking back and forward in his seat with no end in sight.

Clearly, Yoongi realises this too and turns to look at you apologetically. “He’s been feeling some big things,” he starts, making you nod in understanding. “We talked last night and this morning, about last night, and have come to understand that it was more than just sensory overload that led to Hoonie getting overwhelmed.”

“Oh?”

“Mm, Hoon, is it okay if I keep going and explain, or do you want to try?” Yoongi offers, though Jihoon immediately shakes his head and vaguely motions to Yoongi with his elbow without removing his hands from his face, so Yoongi looks back at you. “Ever since Jihoon was born, Jin has called him his favourite nephew, and we honestly didn’t even know he has other kids he’s close to until now. So, Hoon’s feeling a lot about that, like he’s being replaced by Tae.”

“Oh, no, sweetie, I promise you that Jin will never replace you as his favourite nephew,” you assure in a tone that you hope Jihoon can hear as sincere and soothing at once. “Jin is your daddy’s best friend; he’s just a good friend to Tae’s daddy and me. He’s much closer to you guys. He doesn’t even call Tae his nephew.”

“B–but,” Jihoon sobs louder, and you think you’ve said the wrong thing somehow. “He–he pick–picked him!”

You and Yoongi exchange a confused look before looking back at the wailing boy. “Picked him for what, Hoon?” Yoongi asks.

“T–the rings!” You both immediately understand and make soft noises to reflect that.

“Bud,” Yoongi starts, adjusting slightly, and gently moving Jihoon’s hands down from his face so he stops pressing them into his eyes. Jihoon whines and tries to pull away but gives up when Yoongi holds both of his wrists in one hand and uses the other to run his fingers through Jihoon’s hair. As much as the boy doesn’t like being touched, he clearly finds his hair being played with very soothing. “Uncle Jin didn’t ask Tae over you because he likes Tae better, Hoon, he asked him because he knows you.” Jihoon calms a little and glances at his dad with a sniffle before looking away again. “He knows that you wouldn’t like that; all the attention that would come with being the ring boy. Taehyung is much more comfortable with attention on him and even likes it, you don’t. Jin didn’t ask because he would never want you to be uncomfortable, he always does his best to make you happy, doesn’t he?”

By now, Jihoon has stopped crying almost entirely, only silent tears rolling down his ruddy cheeks from red, swollen eyes, and he nods slightly, agreeing with his dad’s words. Yoongi carefully releases his hold on Jihoon’s wrists, though keeps his other hand on his head to play with his hair, so that he can grab some tissues and gently pat at his son’s cheeks.

“Taehyung hasn’t replaced you at all. Jin loves him too, but you are his only nephew,” Yoongi finalises.

“Bu–but…” Jihoon hiccups as he tries to talk around his shuddering breath, trying to calm from his crying. “Why didn’t he–he ask us to sw–swim too?”

“He thought you would want some space this morning,” you explain gently, making the pair look at you, though Jihoon naturally looks away again, and Yoongi focuses back on cleaning up his son. “He knows that last night was a lot for you, so he wanted to respect your space and give you the morning to yourself.”

“R–really?”

“Mm, he told me so last night,” you answer honestly. The boy must trust your words, because you can practically see the last of his worry over being replaced as “favourite nephew” leave his body as he slumps a little, only rocking slightly now, yet still on edge and needing some help to relax back to his normal levels. “Your daddy told me you like music?” you say after a moment, while reaching to the coffee table to grab your laptop where it’s been untouched since the first day, when you used it to play one of the videos that help Taehyung relax upon first arriving at the hotel.

Jihoon doesn’t answer, but he does watch you curiously as you move closer, crouching on the floor between the couch and the coffee table, where you place the loading computer within his view.

“Since meeting your daddy, Taehyung has really gotten into music, and it helps him regulate when he’s feeling a lot. We found out that he really likes jazz, do you like jazz?” you ask, looking back at the boy, who nods, making you smile before you turn back around. “That’s great, it’s very soothing, huh? Sometimes Tae and I will sit and watch this video for ages. It consists of gentle colours spilling and spreading to the music,” you explain as you find the correct file in your system, then look back at the boy. “It might not be relaxing to you, and that’s okay, but want to give it a try?”

Jihoon hesitates before nodding and shyly shuffling off of the sofa to sit on the floor on your right, so that he has a better view of the screen when you press play. Yoongi scoots down onto his son’s right side and returns to playing with his hair, smiling softly when Jihoon leans into his side in search of physical comfort and affection from his dad.

Before you know it, the suite door opens, startling the three of out of the trance the soothing video has put you in. By now, Jihoon is slumped entirely against his dad, and his features aren’t bright red and splotchy anymore, though his eyes are still a little swollen.

“Mama!” Taehyung calls as he barrels into the suite, unable to see you with the sofa in the way but he follows the sound of the video he’s very familiar with.

The moment he rounds the sofa and the father-son duo notice the violent looking bruise on Taehyung’s nose and surrounding the inner half of his left eye, Jihoon lets out an alarmed sound, and Yoongi inhales sharply.

“Oh,” Taehyung says, face dropping in surprise at the sight of the pair, though he lights right back up. “Hi, Ji! Hi, Yoongi!” he greets and bounces over to clamber onto your lap, uncaring that he’s wrapped in a damp towel with his wet trunks underneath. You don’t much care either that he’s getting your pyjama’s damp, you’re more focused on wrapping your arms around your son and kissing his head. “Want go to park with us?” Taehyung asks, looking at Jihoon directly, whose eyes grow wide.

“P–park?” Jihoon repeats, looking and sounding very confused.

“Yeah! After lunch we to going park! You want go with us?”

Jihoon blinks a few times at the younger boy, before turning to look over his shoulder at his dad questioningly.

Yoongi smiles and brushes his hand once more over Jihoon’s head. “We can go if you want, it’s up to you, bud.”

While Jihoon considers it, you glance over to the back to the sofa where you can see Mingyu leaning from your peripheral vision. Just like Taehyung, the man is wrapped in a towel, but it barely fits around his shoulders, and you can see the drops of water slowly trailing down his abs to the waistband of his trunks.

When he notices you looking at him, he shrugs, answering the silent question in your eyes about where Taehyung got the idea that you’re going to the park after lunch; you don’t even know where a park is. But Mingyu smiles, and you smile back, knowing that you’re both more than happy to go along with it for the sake of your son, especially if it means he has more time with his new friend.

“O–okay,” Jihoon’s soft agreement makes you look back and find him facing Taehyung again, but he’s not looking at him and instead shyly down at his own hands. “Th–that sounds fun.”

“Yay!” Taehyung bounces excitedly on your lap.

“Yay!” Mingyu cheers too, making Taehyung giggle, and Jihoon smiles to himself, not quite a giggle but almost there. “Let’s go shower, Taetae; we can’t go to lunch smelling like chlorine!”

“We matchy match?” Taehyung asks, jumping up and happily heading to the main bathroom with his dad, both already planning which of their matching outfits to wear to the park.

“We’ll leave you to get ready and go to lunch,” Yoongi says as he starts to get up, pressing his hands into the sofa cushions behind him to help him get off of the floor. He lets out a little groan once he’s almost upright, hands rubbing at his lower back while he straightens, making you giggle amusedly. “Ah, don’t laugh,” he complains embarrassedly, cheeks tinting pink as you and Jihoon get up without issue, though your ass does hurt from being sat on the floor for over an hour straight. “You’ll be making these noises when you get to my age.”

“Your age?!” you laugh as you walk them to the door. “You’re not even old!”

“You don’t know my age,” he argues with a little pout.

“I’m assuming you’re the same age as Jin, or very close.”

Yoongi blinks at you a few times then sighs. “Okay, you’re right, he’s four months older than me.”

“Which means you’re only two years older than me,” you declare, earning a bewildered look from the man. “What?”

“You’re seriously 33?” You nod. “Oh…I thought you’re younger, like at least five years younger than me.”

“No, Gyu is though. He’s 30.”

“Huh, thought he was older than you.” That makes you laugh, and he smiles in a way you can only describe as gummily cheeky. “Don’t tell him that. He’s twice the size of me; he’d break me with a single punch.”

“He’s a baby, he’s never even been in a real fight. Only wrestling like an idiot with his friends, Jin included.”

“Yeah, that man will never grow up,” Yoongi says with a chuckle. “Anyway, do you want to meet in the lobby after lunch?”

“12:30 sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect,” Yoongi agrees with a nod. “Okay, we will see you then.”

“I look forward to it.” You don’t mean to add the flirty edge to your words, and you hope that Yoongi doesn’t notice it, but by the way his gaze darts to you quickly before he leaves, eyes slightly wider in surprise, he does.

It takes everything in you to not turn and bang your head against the door once you shut it behind you.

“Can’t believe I did that,” you mutter, and would devolve into berating yourself for your thoughtless tone if you didn’t hear Taehyung squeal with laughter from the bathroom, and you quickly forget about your idiocy to focus on getting ready.

As promised, Yoongi and Jihoon meet you in the hotel lobby, dressed ready to go out with as much as their bodies hidden from the sun as possible; in complete contrast to your family all dressed to embrace the sun. You think the five of you probably make a funny image as you walk along the streets to the park you had found online that looks suitable for the boys and isn’t on a main road, therefore, hopefully not busy.

Once you arrive at the park, Mingyu takes off first, gasping in excitement at the large rope climbing apparatus, big enough that he can climb it himself, unlike the parks near your home.

“Please tell your father that if he falls, I’m leaving him on the floor,” you say to Taehyung as he hands over his backpack to you once you and Yoongi have picked a spot on the grass just outside of the park fencing to sit, shaded by a large tree and up on a little hill so you have full view of the park.

“Okay!” Taehyung agrees then turns to Jihoon. “Come on, Ji! Race you!” Though instead of immediately running off like he would with others, Taehyung waits for Jihoon to hand his own backpack to his dad, then move closer, before Taehyung starts to run. He only gets to the bottom of the hill before he stops and looks back at Jihoon in patient, happy wait.

“You don’t have to run if you don’t want to,” you assure Jihoon, who glances at you to show he’s heard before turning back around.

To your surprise, and clearly Yoongi’s too, Jihoon tentatively moves faster than his walking speed down the hill until he’s with Taehyung, and then they slowly run side by side to the gate, then faster over to Mingyu at the climbing frame, where the man is already halfway up.

“I never expected Jihoon to take to Taehyung like this,” Yoongi admits after a few moments of the two of you just watching the three. Taehyung is bouncing around on the floor amongst the ropes, cheering his dad on encouragingly as Mingyu climbs to the top, while Jihoon just watches from a few feet away, but he looks like he’s smiling and happy to be there observing.

“They’re very different boys,” you agree with a hum. “But sometimes, that’s what a person needs. You and Jin seem like polar opposites and you’re best friends.”

“That’s true,” Yoongi concedes with a laugh. “What about you and Mingyu? He seems to always be rushing around while you watch. Is that your dynamic? He’s the playful parent and you’re the more serious one?”

“He’s the one with the boundless energy,” you answer amusedly. “I do run around and play with Tae a lot, but when Gyu’s around, it’s definitely preferable for him to do it. Though, we’re pretty equal really. He doesn’t leave the scolding to me, even if he hates having to do it; but he knows it’s healthy and Tae needs rules and boundaries in place to grow well. And Gyu himself was raised too well to ever try to put all the hard parenting on me. I think his mother would disown him if he did wrong by me, even before Tae came along.”

“You’re the daughter-in-law she always wanted, huh?” Yoongi jokes with a chuckle.

“Yep, I’m everyone’s dream daughter-in-law,” you confirm with faux arrogance that makes him laugh again, brighter this time.

You know you probably shouldn’t think it, but you’d really like to spend the rest of your life making him laugh like that.

While at the park yesterday, Yoongi had told you about a story and song session he saw online held in a local community centre. He said it’s aimed at neurodiverse children, and he plans to take Jihoon, before he extended the invitation, figuring it’d be of interest to Taehyung too.

Which leads to once again meeting Yoongi and Jihoon in the hotel lobby and heading off together. Though today, Mingyu isn’t with you as he had already agreed to hang out at the pool bar with Jungkook for a few hours, which you know means the pair will be flirting with everyone who gives them attention. Hopefully, neither of them will get in trouble this time for flirting with the wrong people; people they don’t know are spoken for until their spouses stalk over angrily.

As much as you know Jungkook would happily throw down with anyone to protect Mingyu, you know that Mingyu himself would hate it and retreat into himself for the rest of the day. You no doubt would have to spend the night with him curled up in your arms, Taehyung in his dad’s arms, and both of you giving him all the affection he needs to feel like himself again.

Even though you do worry about what the flirty duo will get up to while you’re away, you force the concern to the back of your mind so that you can give your full attention to the boys and man with you.

At first, the boys both seem to be very interested in the session. They sit and listen to the story enraptured, eyes wide, and mouths popped open as the volunteers leading the session skilfully add bits of music with their various instruments where suitable.

Neither you nor Yoongi can fight the urge to take photos of the boys, while also promising not to show the photos including the other’s son to anyone but Jin, at least not without obscuring the other child first.

Inevitably though, the volunteers bring out the box of child friendly instruments for all those attending the session to use as the song aspect starts, and both Taehyung and Jihoon immediately cover their ears at the cacophony of jarring sounds.

Without a word, you and Yoongi grab the boys’ bags and leave with the pair still covering their ears, until you’re all out of the centre and can no longer hear the noise.

“Well, the story part was good,” Yoongi says after a few seconds, once you’ve both made sure your sons are okay.

“I like the story,” Taehyung agrees. “Not the music. You do music class much gooder,” he declares with a frown. “They no be good music teachers.”

“They’re not music teachers, they’re just running a session for children to sing songs, and shake maracas and tambourines,” Yoongi corrects gently.

“Oh. I don’t like that.”

“Me either,” Jihoon agrees, features still scrunched up as if he can still hear the sound. Yoongi offers Jihoon his backpack, so the boy takes it and squats down to place it on the floor steady. He takes out his ear defenders to secure over his ears, and a fidget toy, before closing his bag and giving it back to his dad. Yoongi doesn’t seem to mind being tasked with carrying it and slings it over one shoulder.

“I think I saw an art museum on the map online,” you state, having done your own research on the session while at the park once Yoongi mentioned it, just so you knew exactly what you would be walking into and where the closest toilets and such are. “Do you two like art museums?”

“We’ve never been to one,” Yoongi admits sheepishly. “I’m not artistic, and he’s never shown an interest, so it’s never occurred to me to take him. But they’re usually pretty quiet, right? Museums?” You nod. “So, I think that will be a good idea, we don’t have any other plans, anyway.”

“We go see art?!” Taehyung exclaims excitedly and bounces closer to you to latch onto your legs and beam up at you, while Yoongi crouches a little to talk to Jihoon. “I take photos?”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” you respond, fondly brushing your fingers through his hair.

“Okay!”

When Yoongi straightens back up and looks at you, he nods with a smile, confirming that Jihoon has agreed, so you take your phone out and find directions to the museum.

As it turns out, even though Jihoon isn’t particularly interested in art personally, he quite likes wandering around the art museum. Although he keeps his ear defenders on and doesn’t say an awful lot, he always looks at whatever he’s shown and makes the odd comment about pieces that prompt a thought in him.

Of course, you knew Taehyung would love the museum. Despite the fact that he’d usually be prattling on about every piece he sees, rushing around the rooms to take photos on your phone, and then returning to his favourite piece to try and recreate it on the drawing app on your phone, he remains mostly with you today. He still skips off excitedly and tells you all he knows about artists he has knowledge on— as best as a five-year-old can— but he doesn’t go more than a painting ahead, then backtracks to walk at Jihoon’s side, and take a selfie with the boy in front of their favourite paintings. You think it’s the first time that Taehyung hasn’t filled your camera roll with photos of paintings from an art museum and instead his own beaming face beside another shyly smiling one.

Though, the moment the four of you are finished touring the museum and the only thing left to go is step into the gift shop, Taehyung takes off as his excitement wins out.

“He loves gift shops,” you muse to the father-son-duo at your side. “Meet at the benches out front in twenty minutes?” you suggest, knowing just how intensely your son will look at every item that catches his attention, and figure that neither Yoongi nor Jihoon will want to wait around the store that long.

“Sounds good,” Yoongi agrees, then you split ways. The pair go to browse around the gift shop themselves, while you go in search of your excitable son.

As expected, Taehyung is already absorbed in looking at items; currently the selection of puzzles with designs of some of the artwork on show.

“Mama, look,” he enthuses when you crouch next to his own crouching figure and he glances at you, then back to the puzzle that’s caught his attention, the one with his favourite painting from the day.

“Mm, that’s a big puzzle,” you say.

“Too big?”

“Little bit, yeah.”

“Oh.” He sighs sadly, but then jumps up and toddles off, making you chuckle at his ability to literally bounce back before you get up and follow him around.

Honestly, if you didn’t have to consider getting the items home, you probably would buy Taehyung the puzzle and make it a family project to leave on one end of the dining table for you all to add to when you pass, but you don’t want to deal with trying to fit it into your case. Not when there’s still plenty of time left before you return to South Korea, therefore, plenty of time to buy other, easier to pack items.

Thankfully, in the end, all Taehyung wants is a little collection of friendship bracelets for his friends at school, a magnet that states the name of the museum, and a postcard to add to his collection. They’re mostly from Mingyu’s travels, but Taehyung likes to get one everywhere you go, especially from places he wants to remember well, which means every art museum you visit.

Just as you head to the cash desk to pay, Taehyung diverts and rushes over to a display of teddy bears. Of course, you follow, and although you think the teddy wearing a t-shirt with his favourite painting printed on the front is what has drawn his attention, he shows you a different teddy. This one isn’t wearing a t-shirt, but a little bucket hat printed with music notes, and on the stand behind it is a selection of matching child-sized hats to be bought as a set.

“Can buy for Ji?” he asks, looking at you with big, pleading eyes. You smile and without a word, you search through the hats for one you think should fit Jihoon, but Taehyung knows it’s your consent and happily wiggles.

As agreed, Yoongi and Jihoon are waiting on the bench outside of the museum, enjoying the shade on the warm day and seeming content to wait there. Jihoon no longer has his ear defenders on, or his fidget toy in his hold, instead he’s holding a gift bag in the same colour— though a slightly bigger size— as the one in Taehyung’s hands.

Once they spot you and your son nearing, the pair get up and approach. Immediately, Jihoon thrusts the giftbag towards Taehyung, eyes downturned shyly. “Th–this is for you.”

“Me?!” Taehyung gasps excitedly.

“Yes. And I’m sorry for hitting you at the party.”

“It’s okay! Everything was lots and I made more,” Taehyung chirps in response as he swaps the giftbag in his hands with the one in Jihoon’s hands, surprising the older boy.

“It’s for you,” you clarify, knowing that Taehyung is already entirely absorbed in his own gift as he opens the bag, and will forget to state as much.

“R–really?” Jihoon asks, and you nod in confirmation. “But…I hurt him.”

“He understands completely and isn’t upset with you in any way,” you promise softly, with a gentle little smile to match, hoping to convince and reassure the boy. “You’re his friend.”

“Oh.” Jihoon takes a moment to let those words settle before he shoots you a shy little smile and pulls his gift closer to his chest. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. You can open it whenever you want,” you assure and turn to your son, hearing him making excited vocalisations. You can’t help but smile upon spotting the very same teddy bear you had thought Taehyung earlier spotted— the one sporting a t-shirt printed with his favourite painting. He’s holding it close to his chest in one arm, feet moving to make him bounce and step back and forth in his joy. “Wow, that’s your favourite painting, huh, baby?” Taehyung’s too happy to respond with words, but he does nod rapidly and make some more happy noises.

“We weren’t positive what size would be best, so the one we picked will probably be a bit big, but we figure he can grow into it if anything,” Yoongi says, making you look at him, and notice that Jihoon is clutching his own bear and has replaced his plain black bucket hat with the note printed one, a happy little smile on his face.

“Grow into what?” you ask confusedly.

“The t-shirt,” Yoongi clarifies, motioning to Taehyung’s bear. “That one has a matching t-shirt.”

“Oh, really?” you wonder, not having noticed the t-shirts with the bears in the store, but now you squat in front of your son and peer into the bag. “Taetae, there’s more.”

Immediately, Taehyung gasps and peers into the bag. He makes a displeased sound when he realises that he’ll have to let go of his bear to reach into the bag, so you take the gift bag from him to take the t-shirt out and show him. Instantly, his arms flap as he gazes at the painting printed on the front, mouth stretched in a bright smile. When he dives forward, you giggle at his enthusiasm and help him pull the t-shirt over his own one. You’d rather he not be wearing two t-shirts really, but you really don’t want to strip him in public, so this will do, and you’ll have to make sure to keep an eye on him for any sign that he’s overheating.

Taehyung’s still too excited and happy to manage words, but when he bounces over to hug Yoongi tight and beam brightly at Jihoon, you know they both understand. You feel something in you settle at the sight of the three smiling so happily at one another.

Upon returning to the hotel after returning from the museum trip, your two families split ways for a late lunch, and agree to meet in the lobby in an hour to go to the pool together.

Despite usually always being early to meet people, you arrive only minutes before the agreed upon time due to having to repeatedly tell Taehyung that he can’t take his new bear down to the pool in case it falls into the water. You really don’t think chlorine will do the toy any favours.

Taehyung tries to sneak the bear out of the suite once you’re both ready, so you have to send him back to his room to return it, only to repeat it when he steps out with a too-innocent look and a suspiciously bulging thigh from trying to hide the toy in his trunks.

Thankfully though, he does listen and leaves the toy on his bed to allow the two of you to be on time to meet Yoongi and Jihoon in the lobby. Jihoon is still wearing his white bucket hat with the black musical notes printed on, but otherwise, he’s matching his dad in a black t-shirt with a long-sleeved black rash guard underneath, black trunks, and black slides.

When the four of you are out by the pool and Yoongi sets up their towels on the lounge chairs, you have to do a doubletake noticing that the towels are brightly striped, not black, or at least in subdued colours and patterns.

“What?” he mutters, noticing you staring at the towel under him as he sits, and the boys wander off to the pool together, though they sit on the side with their legs in as Taehyung talks away about the fun things they can do in the water once Jihoon is ready to get in.

“The rainbow towels threw me, not going to lie,” you admit as you fold Taehyung’s t-shirt and tuck it into his backpack on the lounger to your left where his towel is, though you know he likely will not make much, if any, use of it. Even if Taehyung takes a break, he’ll likely climb up onto your lounger to sit with you, or just on the edge of the pool like he is now.

“Ah, yeah, I forgot to get new towels until the last minute, and the stores only had bright colours and patterns. I didn’t want to bring our old towels; faded, worn towels feel like a taboo to take on holiday, especially to a fancy resort,” he explains, sounding as amused as you are, so you’re not worried that he’s offended or anything at your entertained questioning, and relax on your lounger a few feet away from his own.

“It really does!” you agree. “And we have to bring our own too, because we can’t trust the hotel towels are suitable for the boys’ skin.”

“Exactly!” Yoongi exclaims, then sighs in a way that makes you giggle. He rolls his head to look at you, a little gummy smile on his face, but it quickly drops after he glances past you. Puzzled, you start to turn to find what has made his smile drop so rapidly, but he makes an alarmed noise, causing you to look at him with widened eyes, and spot the panic on his features. “So! Are you heading home tomorrow too?”

“No, we’re staying another day then going to Japan,” you answer without thought, your mind still wondering why he’s acting like this.

“Don’t!” he blurts when you turn again, but you don’t listen this time. It takes you a minute to understand what he has spotted; Mingyu is at the pool bar, blatantly flirting with two women. “I’m sorry.” The apology makes you look back at Yoongi confusedly. “Finding out that your partner is cheat–”

“Oh!” you exclaim in understanding and smile reassuringly. “We’re not together. We got divorced a year ago.”

“What?” Yoongi mutters dumbly. “You’re divorced.” You nod. “But…you…You live together,” he points out, then his eyes widen, and he looks at Taehyung still on the pool edge, before back to you and leans closer, voice lowering in volume. “Tae doesn’t know?”

“He does, we told him the morning after we decided to divorce, but we’re still best friends, still a family, even if we’re not in love anymore,” you explain with a little shrug. “Tae knows and understands.”

“Oh…I seriously thought you’re together.”

“I gathered that by your panic,” you tease and settle back into your lounger. “Who were you protecting doing that, by the way? Gyu, or me?”

“You,” he answers without hesitation, and also gets comfortable in his lounger so you’re both facing the pool again and can easily watch the boys. “I’ll never protect a cheater. Even if Mingyu was my close friend and you were his wife and not my friend, I wouldn’t hide his cheating from you. I just didn’t want you to see it like that. Seeing it and just knowing are different things.”

“Mm, true. I appreciate that, by the way. But really, we’re both very single and can do what we want, so long as we don’t bring it in front of Taehyung. Unless it’s more than just a fling, and we’ve discussed it first.”

“Ah, that makes sense. You two really do have a healthy relationship, huh?”

“We agreed to be open since we got together and keep it up even now that we’re divorced.”

“Damn, wish my divorce was as pleasant as this,” he muses, surprising you as you hadn’t even known that he’s divorced. Though, you guess you don’t know the man at all really, but you hope to change that. “Then again, my marriage fucking sucked, so I guess we ended how we went on.”

“Oh,” you murmur, heart aching for the man. You want to say something, you want to tell him that he deserves a lot better than a relationship that he sounds glad to be rid of, but you don’t get the chance.

“Hoon loves that bear, by the way,” he says quickly, rapidly changing subject, so you take the hint that he doesn’t want to linger. “He spent ten minutes putting it in the perfect position on his bed when we got back to the suite,” he informs with a chuckle, looking and sounding so fond of his son.

“Tae tried to smuggle his out after I told him multiple times to leave it in his room, so the chlorine doesn’t ruin it.”

The two of you share a laugh before, to neither of your surprise, you get into conversation sharing the cute and funny things your sons have done as they’re grown. Although you have Mingyu to talk about Taehyung with, it’s nice to have a parent of a child that isn’t your own to talk about kids with. You don’t have any parent friends, so you’re really glad that Yoongi is a part of your life now.

At some point over your time at the pool, Mingyu disappears, so when it comes to dinner time, you and Taehyung meet him in the restaurant as agreed that morning. Of course, Yoongi and Jihoon don’t join, so the two of you say goodbye to the pair in the lobby.

“Can I hug you, Ji?” Taehyung requests, all of you knowing that this is the last time you’ll see the duo for a while as the pair will head back to South Korea in the morning while your family is still asleep in your beds.

“Uhm…okay,” Jihoon consents and moves closer to accept the hug from the younger boy, while you and Yoongi watch the exchange with hearts so big and warm, knowing how much Jihoon has to like Taehyung to agree to the hug. He hugs the younger kind of awkwardly, as if he isn’t sure what exactly to do; you imagine he’s used to hugging adults only, not other children, so you’re not surprised he’s a bit confused about embracing someone smaller than him. Still, Jihoon’s expression relaxes quickly, and his lips even turn up into a tiny smile that grows a little more when Taehyung steps back swiftly, respecting the older boy’s space and limits.

“How about we exchange numbers?” you suggest to Yoongi and notice the way his smile twitches in a way that looks like he’s fighting his smile’s attempt to slip away. “We can arrange to meet again when we’re back home, so the boys can hang out some more,” you clarify, not wanting him to think you’re asking for personal gain.

“I…don’t think that’s a good idea,” Yoongi replies, motioning for Jihoon to get closer to him, ready to head to their suite. “I’m technically Tae’s teacher until February, so I don’t want to risk breaking school policy.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” you respond understandingly, and notice his expression relax, even as you feel your heart twist in your chest. “Well, I guess we will see you when school starts again, or at least Tae will. Gyu will see you for pick-ups and everything.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a nod. “Thanks for letting us hang with you guys for this trip, it turned out a lot better than expected, right, Hoonie?”

“I had fun,” Jihoon admits quietly. “Thank you for playing with me, Tae.”

“Thank you for playing with me!” Taehyung returns and then bounces over to hug Yoongi. “I am excited to for school start again for music!”

“Ah, me too, bud,” Yoongi responds with a chuckle as he fondly pats Taehyung with the hand now on his back to return the hug. “I’ll make sure to have some fun activities ready for you.”

“Okay!” Taehyung chirps, letting go of his teacher when you gently tug on your son’s shoulders, prompting him to back up and stand in front of you.

“Have a safe flight back,” you say softly, giving a smile to match.

Yoongi hesitates a moment before he lets out a breath and returns the gentle smile. “Thank you, you too. Enjoy Japan.”

“Thank you.”

Only when Yoongi and Jihoon vanish as the elevator doors close do you and Taehyung turn and head to the restaurant, ready to meet his dad and tell one another about your days over dinner.

“Hey, mama,” the greeting in a familiar voice makes you look over from where you’re spread across a lounger, enjoying a poolside morning alone in the sun, and wearing a bikini to happily tan. A bikini you don’t wear around Taehyung, but he’s off snorkelling with his dad and won’t be back until the afternoon, so you have plenty of time to wear the skimpy swimwear without your son seeing.

“You have a mommy kink, don’t you?” you tease as Jungkook invites himself into the empty lounger beside yours, hands behind his head, and blatantly checking you out.

“Nah, it’s just you,” he replies shamelessly, eyes lingering on your chest as you adjust to turn onto your side to see him easier. “Fuck, you’re so sexy, you know?”

“I’ve been told, mostly by you this past year,” you muse.

“And I’ll keep saying it,” he promises seriously, making you giggle. His lifts his gaze from your chest to look at your face and smile too cutely for the topic. “So, just you, huh?”

“Mm, the boys are off snorkelling.”

“Yeah, Gyu invited me, but I didn’t want to get up early.” He shrugs and turns onto his side so he’s facing you. “I’m definitely glad about that now. No fish would be a better sight than this.”

“You say the weirdest shit, you know?”

“Yeah, I’ve been told. Also been told I’m hot enough that it’s not even off putting.”

You make a vague sound in response, not willing to agree and inflate his ego further, even if it is very true. Jungkook has said a lot of weird things to you since you’ve known each other, and many strange flirtations the past year, and yet, you’re still willing to take him for a ride. It’s really unfair how he can be so lame and still remain ridiculously attractive.

“So, what are your plans?” he questions, making you raise a questioning eyebrow. “For your free time until they return. Are you going to lay here tanning for the next hours? Not that I’m complaining at all, I definitely enjoy the sight. But I’d enjoy another sight even more,” he finishes with an extremely suggestive look.

For a few seconds, you just stare at Jungkook with a little amused smirk as he shuffles minutely under your gaze. “Is this your empty flirting, Kookie, or are you inviting me to your room?”

“Depends, are you going to reject me?” he retorts, scooting to sit up a little, anticipation clear on his features.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Will it be worth my time if I accept?”

The cocky shit smirks and swings his legs around to plant his feet on the ground between your seats, leaning forward onto his knees on his forearms. “Definitely.”

You eye him slowly, taking in his tattooed skin exposed without a t-shirt on his body, only trunks on his legs and currently clinging to his thick thighs due to his position. Your gaze roves back up to his face and catch his tongue wetting his lips. “Lead the way,” you declare, and despite how seductive his expression was as he waited for your response, it immediately leaves as sheer excitement takes over and he bounces up, making you cackle.

“Don’t laugh at me!” he exclaims, though he laughs too, knowing how eager he seems— how eager he genuinely is to get his hands and mouth on you. “Come on, baby, let’s gooo,” he encourages, grabbing your bag to stuff your phone into from the chair by your hip as you get up.

You barely have time to grab your towel before he’s holding your free hand and enthusiastically leading the way to his room, to show you exactly what you could’ve been enjoying for the past year if only the timing had been right.

The morning of snorkelling followed by rock pool exploration with his dad, really wore Taehyung out. Even though he had a nap when the pair returned, he’s asleep in his bed not long after dinner is over, leaving you and Mingyu to relax how you see fit. Which, as per usual, means lounging on the couch cuddled up together with a movie on that you’re both only partially paying attention to.

“I fucked Jungkook today,” you announce out of the blue, making Mingyu pause with his drink can touching his lip before he lowers it and laughs.

“Seriously?” he asks as he looks at you with eyes alight with mirth. You nod in confirmation. “Wow! He’s been asking me if he can fuck you since I told him we broke up!” he cackles and puts his drink down, entirely uncaring that he wants to drink it and more interested in the conversation as he turns his body to face you. “Was it good? He brags all the fucking time about his sex skills.”

“Mm, yeah,” you confirm. “He’s got the right to brag.”

“Better than me?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you, making you shove him.

“Yes,” you say, entirely lying just to wind him up.

Mingyu gasps and abruptly tackles you to the couch until you’re on your back and he’s caging you in with his body, playfully biting at you everywhere he can reach. “Take it back!” he exclaims between bites while you giggle and squirm.

You let it continue until you think you’re likely to pee yourself if you keep laughing. “Okay! I give; I give! I was joking!” you declare honestly. “You’re the best I’ve had.”

“Knew it!” Mingyu exclaims smugly then settles on top of you in a still familiar position, his body between your legs, hands holding your waist under your top and his head on your chest. “You’re the best I’ve ever had too, by the way,” he says after a moment.

“Better than those two women at the bar?”

Mingyu tenses slightly, then relaxes, and you know him well enough to know that he was just surprised that you know about it, not feeling guilty; he truly has no reason to feel any guilt, and you both know it. “You saw that?”

“Mm, thanks to Yoongi,” you say. “He tried to prevent me looking over once he noticed you; to protect me from having to see that. He didn’t know we’re divorced and can see other people.”

“Ah, that’s nice of him.”

“Mm.” You only hum, a sound you’ve made many times before, but Mingyu leans up onto his elbows over you to look at you with furrowed brows, knowing you well enough that he can catch the underlying feelings you’re not speaking. The furrow in your own brows makes you unable to even try to pretend to not be feeling something right now. He doesn’t say anything, but he doesn’t need to, you know his expressions as well as he knows yours at this point. You sigh. “I asked to exchange numbers, so the boys can hang out, but he said no because he’s Tae’s teacher still and doesn’t want to risk breaking school policy.”

“You don’t like that.”

“No, I don’t. I feel…hurt,” you admit after taking a moment to try and understand why you’ve felt a little off since that exchange with the man the day before. “I don’t understand why it’s a big deal. If we can hang out now, why can’t we do it back home?” Your frown grows and you reach up to run your fingers through Mingyu’s hair in an attempt to soothe yourself with the repetitive movements through his soft, freshly washed, and dried hair. “It’s not like I asked to bounce on his dick or anything… not that I’d say no if he offered.”

“Huh, really?” Mingyu questions, looking genuinely surprised as he moves up onto his knees between your spread thighs, his hands settling on his hips as he stares down at you curiously.

“Why’re you surprised?”

“Just look at everyone you’ve dated; he really doesn’t fit in, babe,” he comments, then motions to his own body. “You married me; he’s like half the size of me.”

“Maybe I want something new since you,” you retort, crossing your arms over your chest with a pout.

“You literally fucked Kook a few hours ago,” he deadpans and mindlessly reaches for your thighs to pat to a tune playing in his mind. “He’s the same build as me, and just a little shorter, but Yoongi is a lot shorter. And, well…I don’t know what he’s got under those baggy clothes he wears, but I’m assuming it’s not a six pack or big biceps. You like buff, sweetheart.”

You squeeze him between your thighs quickly, unable to easily nudge him in this position, as you pout up at him. “There’s always an exception to the rule,” you mutter almost defensively, but mostly just arguing childishly and he knows it, yet he ignores that.

“And you think Yoongi is yours?” he teases, expecting you to roll your eyes and shove him, but you open your mouth automatically to retort sassily, yet nothing comes out as his words really hit you, and you genuinely think about it. “Oh, shit,” he mutters in surprise at the fact you’re taking this seriously.

“I…I’ve never been attracted to someone pretty much as soon as I met them,” you say, and Mingyu nods mindlessly, knowing that to be true as you’ve said as much before.

It used to hurt him, when he was still in love with you, because the moment he first laid his eyes on you, he knew he wanted to be with you in whatever capacity you allowed. Which happened to be as his friend for a few years until you returned his attraction. It always hurt that he had loved you before you even liked him as more than a friend, but he never lingered on it. He was just happy that you did learn to love him, and you had genuinely happy years in love together. Yet now, even though you both fell out of love at some point over a year ago, he wouldn’t change anything about your relationship or wish you had fallen for him as quickly as he had you.

“But…” you continue, features twisting uncertainly as you look aside, thinking about the memories your words bring forward. “When Yoongi walked into the classroom on parents evening, I was drawn to him, Gyu.”

“Damn,” he mutters, and you hum in agreement, though his next words make you look at him with an unimpressed expression. “Can’t believe you’re going to marry our son’s teacher.”

“Shut the fuck up, idiot,” you scold, backhanding his thigh between your own.

“No, seriously though, babe, would you take his name?” he teases, then shrieks when you abruptly sit up and tackle him to make him shut up. You both quickly break into giggles as you play fight, and the topic is left in the past.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

If you wish to be tagged in future parts, please refer to the bottom of the Mr. Min masterlist.

[kyeomofhearts]

Back For More | J.WW

+ summary: while adjusting to your new life in college, you couldn't help but attract the attention of wonwoo, someone you happen to share a history with. + pairing: badboy!wonwoo x fem!reader + genre(s): fluff, smut, romance, childhood acquaintances to lovers (?) + word count: 12.5k + content: mature language, teasing, smut, frat party, alcohol drinking… yeah [MDNI]

HC | Prologue | Part I | Part II | Part III | Part IV

[ᝰ.ᐟ] hey so i lied. i know i teased at part four a long time ago but with all of the collabs i had signed up for... my ass had to prioritize a few things. please don’t hate me y’all. but it’s out now! yayyyy!!! y’all can thank @cherry-zip for bullying me to no end and having to deal with my lazy ass hehe. i made sure to make this as long as possible so it could yk… make up for the super long wait. also, special thanks to @orbitondgtl and @luvrung for beta-reading this and making sure it didn’t sound like complete garbage. i have one final chapter i want to post until i’m completely done with this series ☹️ but thank you all for your support and again, i’m sorry it took so long for this to come out! anyways… please enjoy!!! <3333

You didn’t know exactly how long you’ve been laying in bed and staring at the ceiling for, but it was enough for you to notice the weird imperfections decorating it… like, who knew you had that many cracks near your ceiling fan?

Was it a little concerning? Maybe, but it seemed like your mind was taken up by more pressing matters. Like… last night.

Wonwoo.

God, all you could think about was Wonwoo.

The night before played on a loop behind your closed eyes, it was as if you had your own private screening of the events that took place yesterday. Seeing Wonwoo drenched in rainwater, looking like a sad, pathetic cat you couldn't help but let inside. You still felt the ghost of that first desperate kiss on the couch or the way his hands had been freezing until they weren't. Or the way he had looked at you from between your legs, pulling noises out of you that you almost didn't recognize as your own.

And while… you technically didn’t go the full mile with him, boundaries were still crossed. That was the scariest part of it all. The confrontation. Okay, confrontation might be too heavy but the acknowledgment of it?

Horrifying.

The silence of the room was heavy. It didn't help that his scent had found a way of latching itself onto your pillows and blankets. He was everywhere.

You shifted under the duvet, the fabric of your sleep shirt—the only thing that you were wearing at the moment—brushing against your skin. You felt a flush of heat crawl up your neck as you remembered exactly how you ended up in this state.

You reached out to your phone again, only to see the sticky note Wonwoo had left behind for you right next to it.

‘Had an early shift today. See you on Sunday :)’

You groaned, setting the phone down as you dragged a pillow over your face. What were you going to do?

But as if almost on cue, your phone vibrated.

[www.onwoo sent you a photo.]

Life had a funny way with timing, didn't it?

Your eyes practically bulged out of your head as soon as the picture loaded on the screen. It was a dimly lit selfie that was more focused on his neck than his face. His fingers were hooked onto his collar, effectively tugging it down to reveal what you had done to his neck the night before.

www.onwoo: you had a little too much fun last night… didn’t you? ;)

Oh my god.

The phone slipped from your hand, landing with a dull thud on your chest. You stared back at the ceiling, hoping for something or someone to put you out of your misery.

You didn't even have enough time to process the message before your door was shoved wide open.

“I know you're awake you little hussy!” Sohee sang out as she nearly launched herself onto your bed.

She scrambled over to you like an overly energetic puppy, tugging at your shoulder. You could feel her practically vibrating right next to you on the bed. She lifted her head up to look at you. “Tell me everything!”

You felt your stomach drop. “Tell you about what?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb with me! I literally walked your boyfriend out this morning.” She said as she rolled her eyes at you, dropping her head on your shoulder in disbelief.

“What—first of all, he’s not my boyfriend,” you tried to clarify, sitting up almost instantly, “and second of all, it’s none of your business!”

Sohee just cackled, completely undeterred by your weak protest. “None of my business? Honey, when a guy who looks like that sneaks out of your room at the ass crack of dawn, it becomes my business. Our business actually.” She propped herself up on her elbow, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “So, now spill. Who initiated it? Was it him? I bet—”

“Get out!” You shoved at her shoulder, your face heating up with every passing second. You were grateful you were still covered by your blanket, because you knew you had nothing but a t-shirt on.

Just then, Yubin’s head popped into the doorway, her eyebrow raising at the commotion. “I’m assuming this is about Wonwoo, right?”

“See! Even Yubin wants to know about it!” Sohee squealed, her figure squirming on your bed.

“I never said that,” Yubin said as she stepped into the room. She leaned against your dresser, looking unimpressed by your weak attempt to hide under the covers. “Although… I’m glad y’all did that while we were away. I would have killed myself if I had been home when you... you know,” she vaguely gestured at you and the bed.

You felt your face heat up again at the implication. God, this was so embarrassing.

Yubin smirked, checking her watch. Her expression shifted as she realized the time. “Actually, as much as I want to bully you right now… I have to go. I’m going to be late for my shift.”

She walked over to your bed, reaching over to grab Sohee by the back of her hoodie and hauling her off your bed. “Come on, gossip girl. You’re taking me to work today, since you have so much energy.”

“Wait! No—I didn’t even get any juicy details!” Sohee wailed, her fingers clawing at your duvet as she was dragged toward the door.

“We’ll get our details later today, don’t you worry!” Yubin sang out, her voice getting further and further away with every step she took.

The click of the front door shutting was the sweetest sound you’d ever heard. Silence—beautiful silence. You flopped back onto your pillows, the mattress groaning in protest, and grabbed your phone one more time.

Wonwoo’s selfie was still open, his collar showing how carried away you got the night before. Though, you couldn’t deny that it was a nice sight to see—the evidence of your own hunger written on his skin. Your phone vibrated from another message.

www.onwoo: i’m still thinking about the sounds you made birdy.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

You stared at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard while your heart pounded in your ears. Part of you wanted to throw the phone across the room and bury yourself under the covers for the rest of eternity. The other part—the one that always fought back—wanted to wipe that smug look off his face. Because you knew very well that Wonwoo was feeling cocky from last night’s events.

you: i bet. although… isn’t it too early to be getting this worked up? i thought you were supposed to be at work…

The typing bubbles appeared almost instantly. He was definitely slacking off… or maybe he was on break? Doesn’t matter.

www.onwoo: i am but… i enjoy pissing you off even more <3 and what better way to spend my shift than bothering you? :D

You rolled your eyes, but your fingers were already flying across the screen before you could stop them.

you: ugh, go away.

www.onwoo: you’re cute. save some of that energy for sunday. i’m looking forward to our “study” date.

Sunday. 

Right. 

You’d almost forgotten about the study date in the wake of… everything else. But before you could worry about Sunday, you had to survive tomorrow night. You’re not even sure which day you were afraid of more… a frat party filled with strangers or being alone with Wonwoo for a whole afternoon. Shivers ran down your spine at the mere thought of it.

You didn’t reply to his last message. You couldn’t. Instead, you set your phone on your nightstand and stared back up at the ceiling.

Oh, what were you going to do?

It was 8:47pm and you were still in your sweatpants, sitting on the floor of your closet and contemplating whether you could just feign a sudden, violent illness. Food poisoning wouldn’t be too far of a reach… right?

The party was going to start soon but you took zero initiative to get ready and besides, who comes to a party on time?

Your phone buzzed on your dresser. You scrambled for it, stomach already twisting from the anxiety. It was Wonwoo. Again.

www.onwoo: thinking of you

And another message right after:

www.onwoo: my roommates are gonna be out for the night. place is empty yk… in case you wanted to get ahead on our project…

A shiver ran its way down your spine. It was a blatant invitation. An offer to continue where you left off, maybe even go further than last time. It was so, so tempting. 

Your thumbs hovered over the keyboard, ready to type ‘be there in ten’ when another notification slid onto your screen, effectively killing the mood.

hyunwoo: i’m sorry, but something came up and i can’t walk over with you. just meet me at the party? i’ll make sure to save you a drink ;)

You stared at your phone, mind torn by the messages.

On one hand, you had Wonwoo—the man who had spent the last twenty-four hours haunting your thoughts—essentially offering you a repeat of what you now considered the best night of your life. “Get ahead on our project” was the most blatant lie you’d ever heard, and yet, part of you wanted to believe it just so you had an excuse to go.

On the other hand, there was Hyunwoo. He was nice and all, but there wasn’t anything interesting about him aside from his looks. Though, his text felt like a cold splash of water. Meet me at the party? The idea of walking into a house full of sweaty, shouting strangers by yourself was enough to make you want to crawl deeper into your closet and never come out. That was a bit dramatic but you aren’t completely lying either, anything would be better than going to some frat party.

“Of course,” you muttered, leaning your head against your knees. “Of course he’s not coming with me.”

You looked back at Wonwoo’s messages. Oddly enough, they felt like a warm hand on the small of your back. It was intoxicating in a way. If you went to his place, you wouldn’t have to worry about the loud music or having to talk to strangers you would probably never see again. You’d just have him. Him and his very empty apartment.

You weren’t a flake. You had promised Hyunwoo you’d go, and if you bailed now to go “hang out” with Wonwoo, what would that make you?

A heavy sigh escaped you as you started to type.

you: as tempting as that sounds… i unfortunately have plans tonight :( nice try though

The bubbles appeared instantly. He had been waiting on your response.

www.onwoo: oh right. i forgot you had plans with… what’s his name?

you: hyunwoo.

www.onwoo: right. have fun with that. offer still stands though for when you get bored of him, because i know you will.

Your jaw dropped at the last message. A new wave of anxiety—or maybe excitement—ran through you. 

What the actual fuck.

You didn’t want to leave him hanging so you made one final reply before you actually started getting ready for the party.

you: i’ll think about it. don’t get your hopes up though.

You didn’t wait for his reply, opting to put your phone back on the dresser. After a beat of pure silence, you finally stood up and looked at what clothes to wear for the night. Wearing something casual should be acceptable right? It’s not like you’re going there to impress anybody either…

Yeah, casual is definitely the way to go. Maybe put on a little bit of makeup and call it a day—or night, in this instance. Easy enough.

You pulled out a simple but cute outfit and tossed it onto your bed before checking the time.

8:54 pm.

Let’s just get this over with.

As you walked closer to the frat house, you noticed just how loud it was. The windows glowed with the colorful lights as music pulsed from the inside. You hesitated on the sidewalk, already feeling out of place.

On second thought…

No.

You should at least text Hyunwoo that you’re here before ditching so it looks like you put in some effort in trying to meet up with him. That shouldn’t be too hard.

you: i’m here. where are you?

A minute or so passed by before he answered with a short, “inside”. 

Amazing. 

Thankfully, the entrance was open enough for you to just squeeze right through, but now you were lost. The first floor was crowded to the point where you didn’t even know if the house could legally hold this many people all at once. This had to be some kind of fire hazard.

You wandered around the party like a ghost—spectating the rest of the party goers and seeing how much fun they were having. 

Must be nice.

Another five minutes passed by and not a single text from Hyunwoo. What an asshole. And here you felt bad for having thought about ditching him for Wonwoo. 

At least you had a good reason to leave now. It’s not like there was anything or anyone waiting for you here anyway.

The air inside the house felt thick and suffocating. Bodies brushed past you as you tried to push through the crowd. You could see why some people liked going to these parties though; it was a good way of distracting yourself for the time being, plus you know it would be more fun with friends.

As you made your way back to the front door, you felt a firm hand tug and pull you back into something hard. Startled, you turned around, irritated and ready to pull away—until your eyes landed on the familiar figure standing in front of you.

“Oh,” you stared at him, blinking once in surprise.

Wonwoo cocked his head toward you, a lopsided smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Of all people.

Your stomach twisted and your first instinct was to pull away, but his grip tightened—firm but not forceful. Just enough to stop you from running away. And also to stop you from crashing into the couple passing next to you.

“Leaving already?” His voice cut through the noise, steady despite the volume of the party. But his eyes… there was something unreadable about them. Something that made you nervous.

You shook your head, still reeling. “Yes—but what are you doing here?”

His brow lifted in amusement, like he’d just found a hidden treasure in a pile of junk. “I could ask you the same thing, Birdy.”

He took a small swig of his drink, eyes looking you up and down. 

“I take it that these were your big plans with Hyunwoo?” He mused, voice low and playful. “You really chose a party over my empty apartment? I’m hurt, Birdy.”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. The guilt was there, but the confusion was stronger.

“Wait, hold on,” you started, narrowing your eyes at him. You had to step closer to him, your chest practically brushing his bicep, just to be heard over the music. “You didn’t answer my question, why are you here? Last I remember, you said you were going to be home alone and yet… you’re here.”

Wonwoo let out a low huff. He finally let go of your wrist, slightly raising both hands in mock surrender, as he mouthed out a small ‘oops’.

“Well, since you insist,” he said, leaning down until his lips were mere inches away from your ear. The proximity made your stomach do a slow, dizzying roll, his cologne invading your senses. “Those were the original plans, yes, but the guys forced me to come out last minute. Apparently, they don’t trust me to stay awake on driver duty anymore.”

He pulled back just enough to look you in the eye, his smirk widening. “I might have a small history of falling asleep while waiting for them. Mingyu and Seokmin had to walk back home once because I didn’t hear their calls. They won’t let me live it down.”

Your brain stalled, the names giving you whiplash. “Wait… Mingyu and Seokmin? You guys live together?” You nearly gasped, a surge of genuine excitement bubbling up—partly because you missed your old friends, and partly because you wanted to distract yourself from how good Wonwoo smelled.

“Yeah,” he murmured, his eyes searching yours with a sudden, sharp intensity. “Why do you sound so excited about them, hm?”

“Ugh, it’s not like that you freak!” You said while giggling, reaching out to shove his chest. “I just haven’t seen them in so long, that’s all…”

Wonwoo’s tongue poked against the inside of his cheek. “Sure… if that’s what you’re choosing to go with.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing.

He leaned away just a bit, getting a better look of your face. “Could’ve sworn you were just fine with me though.” His voice was smooth, but there was a slight edge to it, something annoyingly smug.

You wanted to say something back, anything, until you felt a few taps on your shoulder. You turned your head, ready to tell whoever it was that they had the wrong person, until you were met with two very familiar eyes looking back at you.

“I knew it was you!” Seokmin’s voice practically roared over the music. He looked a little broader than the last time you had seen him, but he still carried that boyish charm you loved him for. “What are you doing here? And when did you transfer? Because I knew you were at that college back home—”

“—Guys, do not drink from the blue punch bowl,” Mingyu’s voice rang out all of a sudden. “I swear I saw hair in it.” He stopped dead in tracks as soon as his gaze landed on you. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you laughed, your voice straining to compete with the bass. Before you could say another word, Seokmin was pulling you into a massive, rib-crushing hug, lifting you clean off the floor.

“I told you!” Seokmin shrieked into your ear, ignoring Wonwoo’s wince. “I told Mingyu that I saw someone who looked exactly like you on the sidewalk, but he said I was imagining things because of how many shots I took earlier!”

Mingyu rolled his eyes as he quickly pulled you into another hug the moment Seokmin set you down. He looked over your shoulder at Wonwoo, his grin turning wicked. “So… what’s going between you two?”

You were quick to respond. “Nothing! We were just catching up, that’s all.”

Wonwoo hummed in agreement, smug at the way you had just lied to everyone's face.

Mingyu did one final look-over at you and Wonwoo, unconvinced by your quick response, though he wasn’t going to push. “…Sure.”

“Anyway!” Seokmin barked, clasping his hands together to break the weird air around the group. “Since we’re all together… why not get fucked up?”

He continued, practically vibrating with excitement. “We’re friends with the president so sometimes we have access to some of the better alcohol that they got here.”

“Dude, yes!” Mingyu cheered, grabbing your arm. “It’s been forever since we’ve hung out properly. We’re not letting you out of our sight tonight.” Seokmin joined in, linking his other arm through yours as they started to happily lead you towards the kitchen.

As the night went on, you continued drinking, laughing along with the guys—and Soonyoung, who had joined midway through a chaotic round of shots. The room buzzed with warmth and energy, your limbs feeling lighter with every sip of the spiked punch. You were midway through a messy round of beer pong, leaning over the table as you tried to get the perfect shot. Fortunately, you had been blessed with Mingyu being your teammate because you knew that out of the two of you—he was definitely carrying the team.

Somewhere between Soonyoung in dramatically reenacting a fight he definitely did not win and Seokmin insisting he could do a backflip—he absolutely could not—you felt a familiar presence settle beside you.

Wonwoo had been watching.

Even through the haze of alcohol, you could feel the weight of his gaze. Every time you stepped up to throw the plastic ball, his eyes lingered on the line of your back, the flush of your neck, and the way your hand was starting to shake a little more than normal.

While you pretended not to notice, your heart betrayed you by kicking up its pace every time you caught him staring, causing you to miss your shot entirely. Damn your heart for betraying you like this.

As you reached for the penalty cup, you felt a firm, cool hand close around yours.

“I think that’s enough for tonight.”

You blinked up at Wonwoo, your buzzed mind taking a second to process his words. “What?”

He gently pried the cup from your grasp, setting it back down on the table. He’d seen the way you had difficulty swallowing the last drink, your hand flying over to your mouth to suppress a gag as the burn of the alcohol hit you.

“No more drinks for you tonight,” he murmured, his voice low enough to stay between the two of you.

You pouted, tugging on his sleeve. “But I was having fun! We’re winning! Tell him, Mingyu!”

Mingyu, who was busy lining up his own shot, just laughed. “Actually… we’re down by four, and you just threw a shot straight at the floor. I think it might be time you call it a night.”

Soonyoung let out a dramatic gasp. “He’s cutting you off? That’s crazy. I’d never let a man control me like that.”

Seokmin nodded in agreement. “For real.”

You turned back to look at Wonwoo. “C’mon,” you slurred out, “I’m doing fine…”

Seokmin just snorted, waving a dismissive hand. “Girl, just let your boyfriend take care of your ass.” 

You gasped. “He’s not my—”

Before you could find a comeback, Wonwoo’s hand was tugging at yours. His head nodded in the direction toward the front door.

Mingyu wiggled his eyebrows. “Oh~” He sang. “Alone time?”

Wonwoo rolled his eyes but didn’t bother responding. Instead, he wrapped his arm around your waist and led you out of the kitchen, your steps slightly faltering as you followed him.

“Have fun you lovebirds~” Soonyoung cooed out from a distance. 

You barely noticed the cold air hitting your skin when he finally brought you outside. The music was muffled now, the party still raging on without you.

Wonwoo glanced at you. “Better?”

You hummed, stretching your arms out before immediately wrapping them around his neck. “Much better.”

He scoffed but didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you cling to him, his grip on your waist tightening for just a second before loosening again.

“You’re clingy tonight,” he muttered.

You nuzzled into his chest, voice soft. “And you’re nice.”

Wonwoo froze. 

“…Nice?”

You nodded. “You’re taking care of me when you technically don’t have to.”

For a moment, he said nothing, choosing to only hum in response. Then, his hand brushed over your lower back—he was warm.

You swayed slightly, clinging onto Wonwoo as the cool night air wrapped around you. The quiet outside was a stark contrast to the chaos inside, but you found that you didn’t mind—it was nice like this. Just you and him.

Your stomach fluttered, and for a moment, you thought it was from the way Wonwoo had been looking at you all night. Or how his hands steadied against your waist whenever you stumbled. But then, the sensation twisted, turning unpleasant, and you realized with panic that those weren’t butterflies.

You quickly let go of Wonwoo as your vision tilted slightly.

Wonwoo frowned. “You okay?”

You swallowed thickly, nodding way too fast. “Yeah. I just—” You opened your mouth to continue, but the moment you did, the nausea slammed into you full force.

Your eyes widened. “Oh no.”

He tensed at that.

Without saying another word, you yanked yourself from his hold and lunged toward the bushes nearby, emptying the contents of your stomach.

Wonwoo was at your side in an instant, pulling your hair back as he crouched next to you. “God, I told you that was enough,” he muttered, but there was no real bite to his words. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back as you heaved, whispering soft reassurances. “Just let it all out. You’ll feel better.”

You groaned, resting your forehead against your arm when you finally finished. “I want to die.”

Wonwoo snorted but didn’t stop his soothing motions. “You’ll be fine,” he murmured, voice softer now.

You weren’t sure how long you sat there, hunched over the bushes with Wonwoo’s steady hand rubbing slow, soothing circles along your back. The worst of the nausea had finally passed, leaving you drained and a little too aware of the fact that Wonwoo had just witnessed you at your absolute lowest.

You wiped your mouth before shooting him a weak glare. “Don’t look at me.”

“I literally just watched you throw up, I think the damage is already done, Birdy.” His smirk was downright smug as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You shoved your face into your hands. “I’m never drinking again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mused, patting your back. “You and everyone else who’s ever thrown up at a party.”

You groaned again, this time in embarrassment rather than nausea. “I hate this.”

Wonwoo hummed, lightly patting your back. “Could be worse.”

You turned your head just enough to glare at him. “How?”

He smirked, leaning a little closer. “Could’ve thrown up on me.”

Despite your current state, a laugh bubbled up from your chest. “Don’t jinx it.”

Wonwoo let you rest against him for a little while, his hand warm and steady on your knee. Eventually he sighed, shifting slightly. “Alright, come on,” he murmured. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

You groaned, but didn’t resist as he helped you up, his hands firm on your waist to steady you. The ground felt a little uneven beneath your feet, but Wonwoo was there, keeping you upright.

“Ugh,” you whined as you wiped at your mouth again. “I feel disgusting.”

“You look the part, too,” he deadpanned, but the teasing glint in his eyes softened the jab.

You smacked his arm weakly, pouting. “I take back what I said, you’re not nice.”

The moment you stepped inside, the heat and noise of the party hit you full force again. The contrast was disorienting, and you clutched at Wonwoo’s arm instinctively. He glanced down at you, a little amused, but didn’t say anything as he led you through the crowd.

“Bathroom,” you mumbled, blinking up at him. “Where..?”

“I got it,” he assured, steering you toward the hallway. You were grateful he seemed to know his way around, because the last thing you wanted was to stumble around like a lost idiot in front of a bunch of drunk strangers.

Once you reached the bathroom, Wonwoo knocked once before opening the door and peeking inside. “All clear,” he said, holding it open for you.

You let out a relieved sigh and stepped in. “Give me like, two minutes.”

He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Take your time.”

You shot him a suspicious look. “You’re waiting?”

Wonwoo shrugged. “Yeah, just in case you pass out and drown in the sink.”

You squinted at him, holding onto the bathroom door for stability. “…I don’t know if that’s sweet or offensive.”

He smirked. “A little bit of both.”

Rolling your eyes, you shut the door and turned to the dirty mirror in front of you, groaning at your reflection. You looked as bad as you felt—your lipstick smudged, your hair slightly out of place, and your skin a little too flushed. You did your best to clean up, wiping areas where your makeup had smudged as well as rinsing your mouth out.

When you finally stepped back outside, Wonwoo was still waiting, just as he said he would. His eyes scanned you briefly before he nodded in approval. “Better.”

“I was going to say thanks,” you grumbled, weakly shoving at his chest, “but now I’m rethinking it.”

He caught your wrist before you could fully pull away, his thumb brushing against your pulse point. He didn’t let go, instead stepping into your space to shield you from the rest of the party-goers. “You should say it,” he murmured, his voice dropping an octave. “Seeing as I’m the only reason you didn’t end up face-down in the grass.”

Your breath hitched, heart stuttering in your chest. Damn him, because he knew what he was doing—knew how easily he could get under your skin.

Instead of giving him the satisfaction, you huffed, yanking your wrist free. “Let’s go find the guys before I decide to ditch you.”

Wonwoo sighed, but his gaze softened as he watched you sway. “Actually… I think you should wait outside. Staying in here with this heat and the bass is only going to make you feel worse. I’ll grab the guys so we can finally get out of here.”

You gave a sleepy, miserable nod. After hurling your guts out, the idea of going back outside didn’t sound so bad. “Okay,” you murmured, already turning toward the exit.

The night breeze was a blessing. You found a sturdy tree-swing a few yards away from the porch, the thick rope creaking softly as you sat down. You had seen it when you first came to the house, you were just happy to find a place to sit while you waited on Wonwoo. You closed your eyes, leaning your head against the rope, letting the cool breeze settle your nausea just a bit. For a brief moment, it was peaceful—until you heard the crunch of gravel behind you.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you!”

You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who’s voice it was. When you finally did, you saw him standing there with a solo cup and a weak, unsettling smile.

“Sorry I didn’t reply to your texts,” he said, his tone dripping with fake sincerity. “I got caught up in something… really important. I hope you understand.”

Even through the hazy, alcohol-induced fog clouding your brain, his condescending tone was crystal clear. You looked up at him, at the stupid apologetic expression on his face, and something inside you snapped.

“Important, huh?” You huffed, a surge of cold irritation cutting through your nausea. “Save it, Hyunwoo. Honestly, just fuck off already. I shouldn’t have bothered coming here in the first place, you wasted my time by making me wait for you.”

Hyunwoo’s face hardened instantly. “Fuck off? That’s rich coming from you.” He stepped closer, his shadow looming over you. “Looks like you still found a way to have a good time without me, didn’t you? I saw you with that group of guys inside. You seemed pretty cozy for someone who was ‘waiting’ for me.”

“What was I supposed to do? Stand at the door like a dog?” you snapped, your grip tightening on the swing rope. “Plus, I don’t owe you any explanation after you ditched me.”

“Oh, please,” Hyunwoo scoffed, stepping dangerously close. “Don’t act all high and mighty. Not everything revolves around you, okay? I’m allowed to do whatever the fuck I want.”

“Then why the hell would you invite someone to a party just to ditch them?” you challenged, trying to stand up, but the swing wobbled unreliably. “Just back off, Hyunwoo. I mean it.”

He didn’t move away. Instead, he stepped closer. His hand reached out to grab the swing’s rope to keep you in place. A cold spike of panic flared in your chest. The two of you were alone outside, and you were in no condition to defend yourself if things got nasty.

A hand clamped onto Hyunwoo’s shoulder, and with one sharp, controlled burst of strength, Wonwoo shaved him back. Hyunwoo stumbled over his own feet, nearly hitting the dirt before he regained his balance.

“What the fuck?” Hyunwoo barked out, irritation running through his face.

He straightened up a bit, face painted with a kind of red that only embarrassment can bring. “What the hell is your problem—”

His voice cut off the moment he looked past Wonwoo. Standing right behind him were Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung. They weren’t making a scene, but their presence alone was a wall of witnesses he wouldn’t be able to ignore. Hyunwoo glanced back over to where you were sitting, and realized that there was no way he was going to win this.

With an unhappy, bitter sigh, he muttered a curse and headed back toward the house.

The silence that followed was heavy until Seokmin stepped forward. His voice was gentle, a tone he reserved for more serious situations. “Hey… you okay? He didn’t touch you, did he?” He asked as he held his hand out to you, letting you use him to get off the swing.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding. “Just… ready to go home now.”

The walk to the car was a blur. Wonwoo kept his hand on the small of your back the entire time, guiding you towards the car. He pulled the front passenger door open for you, helping you settle into the seat.

‘Wai—Hey!” Mingyu whined as he climbed into the back, mushed between Seokmin and Soonyoung. “Why am I being put in the back of my own car? This isn’t fair—”

“Stop whining,” Wonwoo muttered as he situated himself in the driver’s seat. “I’m not putting her in the back with you idiots, so just deal with it.”

The others just laughed, already half-asleep or distracted by their phones, while Mingyu continued to grumble about how “cramped” it was in the back.

You looked over at Wonwoo, whose attention was on the road. You could tell he was still bothered by the confrontation from earlier and despite how shitty you felt at the moment, you managed to mutter a small ‘thank you’ to him before succumbing to the exhaustion from the night.

You weren’t sure when your eyes fully closed. Only when you opened them again, everything was different.

The muffled bass of the party was gone, replaced by the distant hum of a car engine. Street lights flickered past, casting faint glows through the window. You stirred slightly, feeling the seatbelt strap pressing against your chest and the steady warmth of a hand on your thigh.

How the hell did you get here?

You blinked sluggishly, trying to piece together how you got here, but your thoughts were too foggy to hold onto. The only thing that registered was the low voice beside you.

“Almost home,” the familiar voice muttered.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The smooth vibration from the car almost effectively lulling you back to sleep.

Well, that was… until the car suddenly stopped.

It felt like mere seconds later when you heard the faint click of the doors unlocking, the abrupt noise pulling you further away from the haze of sleep.The guys all sluggishly slipped out of the backseat one by one. Mingyu even managed to bump his head as he slid out of the car, only for it to be followed with an almost silent cry.

And without much thought, you followed along. Well, at least tried to.

“Where are you going?” Wonwoo caught your hand before you were able to fully unbuckle yourself from the passenger’s seat.

“…Inside?” You lazily gestured towards the direction the guys were heading to.

Wonwoo looked at you skeptically. “You don’t want me to drop you off at your place?”

You shook your head.

“Are you sure?”

You scoffed at his apprehension. It was cute, but you needed to crawl into a bed right now. It didn’t matter whose bed it was.

“Wonwoo,” you sighed out, “I’m completely sure, I mean we even slept—”

“—Okay, I get it.” He muttered as he shut the car off, grumbling to you about staying in your seat.

A moment later you felt a huge gust of cold air rush right past you as soon as Wonwoo opened your door. 

“Wow, you’re such a gentleman, Woo,” You annoyingly batted your eyelashes at him.

He only rolled his eyes at your teasing, and yet, he still held his hand out for you. And when you interlaced your fingers with his—they were warm and stable.

The walk to his place was rather short but, with the way your head was still reeling from tonight’s decisions… yeah, you needed to lie down like right now.

By the time you reached his unit, a giggle escaped you—Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung were slouched against the door like a group of wasted zombies who’d completely forgotten how to function. Wonwoo let out a long, tired sigh beside you—one that very clearly said “I cannot believe these idiots couldn’t open the door.”

“Finally,” Seokmin groaned at the sight of Wonwoo, “we thought we were going to be out here all night!”

The moment Wonwoo pushed the door open, Mingyu, Seokmin, and Soonyoung shoved past him like they had just escaped a war zone. Shoes were kicked off haphazardly, jackets flung over furniture, and Seokmin collapsed face-first onto the couch with another dramatic groan.

You followed much slower, still groggy but steadily sobering up with each passing second. The cool night air had cleared some of the fog in your mind, and now, as you stepped inside, you took in your surroundings with some clarity. The apartment was surprisingly clean for three guys living together. Warm lighting softened the space, posters lined the walls, and the open layout of the living room and kitchen made it feel cozy.

But what caught your attention wasn’t the apartment itself.

It was the sleek black cat perched on top of the couch, staring at you with piercing green eyes.

“Oh,” you mumbled, blinking at the pretty kitty. “Who has a cat?”

Wonwoo barely had time to answer before the cat gracefully hopped down and strutted toward you. She sniffed at your leg, tail flicking, before rubbing against you as if claiming you as her own.

Your mind sharpened a little more as you crouched down, fingers threading through her sleek fur.

“Looks like Gigi likes you,” Wonwoo observed, sounding mildly impressed.

You grinned, crouching down to scratch behind her ears. “She’s so pretty.”

“She’s evil,” Seokmin muttered from the couch. “Don’t let her fool you.”

“She’s just selective,” Wonwoo defended, watching as you scratched under his cat’s chin.

You glanced up at him with a tired, playful smile. “So, does this mean I’m special?”

Wonwoo met your gaze, the corner of his mouth lifting ever so slightly. “Maybe.”

Gigi curled around your legs, tail flicking against your calf as you stroked her sleek fur, her purring loud despite the lingering noise from the rest of the apartment. 

The guys had mostly settled in by now—Mingyu had disappeared into his room without a word, Seokmin was sprawled across the couch as if someone had thrown him on there, and Soonyoung was rummaging through the kitchen cabinets, mumbling something about needing a “midnight recovery snack.”

You were still feeling a little groggy, the weight of exhaustion clinging to you like a thick blanket, but you were awake enough now to register the warmth of the apartment.

The scent of something warm and herbal caught your attention. You turned your head to see Wonwoo setting a mug on the kitchen counter, the steam curling up into the air.

“Why did you make tea?” you asked, blinking in mild disbelief.

Wonwoo scoffed, barely sparing you a glance as he leaned against the counter. “You literally threw up earlier.”

Seokmin mumbled something incoherent, face half-buried into the couch cushion. Then, with a sleepy grin, he added, “what a simp.”

Wonwoo narrowed his eyes. “Shut up.”

But Seokmin wasn’t done. “Nah, for real, if this were any of us, he would’ve let us rot.”

“It’s true,” Soonyoung chimed in from the fridge, voice muffled as he dug around for god-knows-what. “Where was this energy when I had food poisoning, huh?”

“You got food poisoning because you ate gas station sushi,” Wonwoo said flatly.

“And yet, I still deserved some love and compassion!” Soonyoung shot back before popping a random grape into his mouth.

You snorted, turning your attention back to the tea.

The mug was warm in your hands as you lifted it to your lips, letting the honeyed sweetness settle on your tongue.

“Good?” Wonwoo asked, watching you carefully.

You hummed in approval after taking a sip of the tea, then smirked as an idea popped into your head. “Wonwoo… are you actually taking care of me, or are you trying to get me into your bed faster?”

A beat passed.

One of the guys groaned in disgust.

Wonwoo exhaled sharply. Instead of arguing, he simply turned on his heel and walked toward his room, mumbling something about getting changed as he disappeared inside. 

You grinned at his retreating figure, taking another slow sip of your tea. This was fun.

A few minutes later, when he reemerged from his room, you nearly choked on your tea.

Gone was the slightly rumpled party outfit. Now, Wonwoo stood in the doorway wearing a t-shirt and loose gray sweatpants that hung low on his hips. 

But it wasn’t just that. 

It was the glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, the way his hair fell slightly messier than usual, giving him an effortlessly good look that had no business being this hot.

You weren’t sure why, but something about it made your stomach flip—in a good way this time.

Wonwoo barely spared you a glance as he walked over, dropping a small bundle of clothes directly over your lap. “Here.”

You blinked.

“Wow,” you muttered, staring down at the clothes on your lap. “Romance really is alive.”

Wonwoo ignored your sarcasm, reaching out to tug at your free hand. “Come on.”

You frowned in exaggerated confusion, refusing to budge. “Where are we going?”

“To my room.” He deadpanned.

“Oh?” You grinned, cocking your head.

His grip tightened slightly before he rolled his eyes, the tips of his ears noticeably pink. “You’re annoying.”

You cackled as he pulled you along, barely giving you a chance to set your almost-empty mug down before he dragged you into his room, shutting the door behind you.

The second you stepped into Wonwoo’s room you took a moment to glance around the space, taking in the surprisingly neat setup.

A sleek desk sat against the far wall, cluttered with books, a gaming setup and what looked like a few scattered notes from class. His bed had dark satin sheets that looked way too inviting after the night you had. Small posters of old movies and bands were pinned up, giving the space a bit of personality.

Your gaze flicked back to him, standing near his dresser, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“You have a nice room,” you mused, stepping further inside, tossing the clothes he had given to you on his bed. “Kind of expected it to be messier, though.”

Wonwoo scoffed. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You took one last glance around his room, eyes lingering on him just a second longer than necessary, before lifting your shirt up over your chest.

You didn’t really bother asking.

The shirt finally slipped over your head, followed by the rest of your clothes. You changed right in front of Wonwoo, your movements uncoordinated and sluggish—his eyes practically widened at the sight.

“…Seriously?” he muttered, ears already burning.

“Relax,” you said with ease, “I think we’re a bit past that point, don’t you think?”

You stepped into the sweatpants, lightly swaying as you attempted to straighten your legs out, one hand bracing against his bed.

And despite the exasperation in his voice, you knew that he wasn’t actually bothered by any of it, especially when his hand instinctively reached out to hold you steady as you changed.

Wonwoo only shook his head, a small smile tugging on his lips as he watched you finally stand still. Dealing with you while you were drunk was definitely a hassle, but as he watched your eyelids start to droop again with that same sleepy expression from the car ride, he knew he didn’t really mind taking care of you.

Despite the sleep pulling at you, a different need started to surface. You’d thrown up earlier at the party, a fact you were trying very hard to forget already, but the way your makeup was sitting on your face was suddenly unbearable. “Woo,” you mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

He hummed in response behind you, hands still holding onto your wavering figure.

“I need to… stuff,” you said, gesturing vaguely at your face. “Do you have a spare toothbrush or something? I feel so gross.”

He sighed, but there was no real annoyance behind it. “I’ll see what we have in the closet. Try not to fall.”

He disappeared out the door, leaving you to sit on the edge of his mattress fighting the urge to lay down and burrow yourself into his sheets. He was back a minute later, holding up a spare toothbrush still in its packaging and a small packet of makeup wipes.

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Wow, Wonwoo. Prepared for any late-night guests, are we?”

He rolled his eyes, tossing the items onto the bed next to you. “Don’t get any ideas. They’re probably from one of Seokmin or Mingyu’s… visits. I’m not the only one who lives here, you know.”

“Right… right…” you grinned, grabbing the stuff and hauling yourself from the bed. “Blame it on the roommates.”

When you returned from the bathroom, face clean and teeth brushed,Wonwoo was already in bed, propped up against the headboard. He looked devastatingly hot, especially with the way his glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. The soft glow of the tv illuminated the room, playing some old cartoon from when you were kids. He turned the volume down low.

“Background noise,” he explained when you finally slid into the covers. “Helps me sleep.”

You hummed in response, snuggling into his side. The warmth of his body, the low drone of the tv, the comfort of the bed, it was perfect.

Though, the alcohol that still remained in your system had other ideas. You shifted closer to him than necessary, pressing a small kiss to the side of his neck, your hand trailing down his chest.

“You know,” you whispered, voice low and suggestive, “I know what we can do to sleep real good tonight.”

Wonwoo let out a long, tired groan, catching your wandering hand before it could go any further. “Nope,” he said, voice firm but gentle. “You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

You pouted, pulling your hand back with a huff. “You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, wrapping an arm around you anyway, pulling you closer. “Now sleep.”

You grumbled but still settled against him, the rise and fall of his chest effectively lulling you into a deep sleep.

You woke up a few hours later. The room was still cast in the flickering light of the tv. Some late-night infomercial was playing, though you couldn’t really hear much of what was being said. A glance at your phone on the nightstand told you it was a little after three.

And you desperately had to pee.

This was horrible. The bed was a perfect cocoon of warmth, Wonwoo practically turned into your personal human radiator by this point. Leaving seemed like an impossible task, but you had to go. With a quiet sigh, you started to carefully extract yourself from his limbs.

The moment you moved, he stirred. His arms tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him. “No,” he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. “Stay.”

“I have to pee,” you whispered, trying to wiggle free from his grasp.

“Don’t go,” he whined, burying his face in your hair. “It’s gonna be so cold without you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his clinginess. “I’ll be right back. Two minutes, I promise.”

He grumbled in protest but finally loosened his grip enough for you to slip away. True to your word, you were back in under two minutes, slipping into the now cold spot beside him.

He immediately wrapped himself around you again. “Took you forever,” he complained into your shoulder. “I almost froze to death.”

“Oh, you’re such a big baby,” you teased, turning in his arms to face him. You leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Better now?”

He hummed in approval, his eyes still closed. But the kiss… combined with the close proximity reignited the heat from earlier. The sleepy haze in your mind lifted just enough for that familiar, throbbing ache to return. 

“I can think of an even better way to get warm…” you murmured against his mouth, pressing your hips against his.

Wonwoo’s eyes flew open once he sensed where this was going, letting out a pained groan in the process. “Are you serious? Go back to sleep you fiend.”

You giggled at his reaction. 

Eventually, you both dozed off once again.

The next time you woke up, the pale gray light of the early morning was beginning to filter through the curtains. The tv was off this time, leaving the room in a heavy, ringing silence. You squinted, a dull, rhythmic throb behind your eyes reminding you of how much you drank the night before.

Wonwoo had spent a good portion of the night making sure you stayed somewhat hydrated and alive, but the hangover was still there which was annoying but deserved.

You glanced over at your phone for the time, it was seven in the morning. But that wasn’t what had gotten your attention originally. 

It was the way something hard was pressing up against your ass.

A slow, wicked grin spread across your face, momentarily distracting you from the headache. Wonwoo was still fast asleep, his breathing deep and even. You shifted back ever so slightly, experimentally pressing your hips against him. He stirred in his sleep, a soft sigh escaping his lips as his arm around your waist instinctively pulled you closer to him.

This was just too good to ignore.

You began to move again, a slow, deliberate grind against his length. You kept the movements small and subtle, just enough to provide a delicious amount of friction. He started to stir more, hips beginning to move unconsciously, meeting your slow rhythm. A low groan rumbled from his chest. This went on for a few blissful minutes until, with a sharp inhale, he woke up completely.

His hand stopped your hips from moving any further. “You’re actually evil,” he muttered, voice rough with sleep and arousal.

You rolled over to face him, a triumphant smirk on your face. “Morning to you, too. Seems like someone’s happy to see me.”

He glared at you, but there was no real heat behind it.”You’ve been like this all night. Aren’t you tired?”

“Nope,” you lied, emphasizing the ‘p’. You trailed your finger down his chest, leaning in close to his ear. “Though… I do think I’m sober enough for you to fuck me now.”

A shiver ran through him, and he closed his eyes for a good second, as if gathering up all his strength. “You’re so annoying.”

“Hey, that’s my line,” you shot back, leaning in to kiss him this time. He kissed you back, a deep, hungry kiss.

When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily. “I’m not kidding,” you said impatiently. “I’ve been wanting this ever since I saw you in those stupid glasses.”

“Fuck,” he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I know. But I’m not going to rush this just because you’re being impatient.” He pushed you gently onto your back, hovering over you now. The shift in position made your head throb once, but the way his weight was settling between your thighs seemed to distract you from the discomfort. “I’m gonna take my sweet time with you, Birdy.”

You whined, wrapping your legs around his waist. “But I’m ready, Woo, please…”

He chuckled. “Oh, I know you think you are,” he murmured, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweatpants. “But first, I want another taste.”

He didn’t wait for a response, slowly tugging the fabric down your legs and tossing them on the floor. He settled between your now bare thighs, his gaze dark and hungry.

He pushed your thighs further apart, settled between them, and then his mouth was on you. He started off strong, his tongue flat and firm against your clit, licking a broad, devastating stripe that made your back arch off the bed. You gasped, your hands flying straight to his hair. He wasn’t gentle; he was savoring you, his movements precise and punishing. It was exactly what you deserved for not shutting up all night.

He brought one hand up, pressing it firmly on your lower abdomen, holding you down against the bed. The pressure was intoxicating, grounding the floaty, hungover feeling in your head and concentrating everything right where he wanted it. You could feel your release building up, tight and hot.

His speed picked up, his tongue flicking rapidly against your most sensitive spot. Your legs started to shake, your thighs trying to close around his head from the overwhelming stimulation. He grunted in frustration, using his free hand to forcefully pry your legs open, holding them wide open.

In the middle of it all, right when you felt like you were on the edge of seeing stars, he reached up to where your hands were and laced his fingers with yours. It was such an intimate gesture, a stark contrast to the overwhelming pleasure he was making you feel.

“Wonwoo… I’m… I’m gonna…” you gasped, your fingers tightening around his.

And then… he stopped.

He pulled his mouth away completely, lifting his head. The sudden absence of stimulation was a physical shock, a cold wave crashing over you. Your eyes flew open, and you stared down at him in disbelief. “What…?” you breathed, your body still humming with pleasure that now had nowhere to go.

He just looked up at you, a dark, knowing smirk on his glistening lips. He said nothing. He just watched you as your orgasm receded, leaving behind a hollow, desperate ache.

A frustrated whimper escaped your throat, and to your utter mortification, your eyes started to sting. “You… you can’t be serious,” you choked out, a tear slipping from the corner of your eye and tracing a path down your temple. “Why would you do that?”

He finally moved, but not to resume. He shifted up, his fingers replacing his tongue as he slowly, deliberately pushed one inside you. Your body clenched around the intrusion, a desperate attempt to find friction. “Because,” he murmured, his voice low and rough as he began to slowly pump his finger, “you spent all night teasing me. I feel like it’s only fair that you go through what I felt all night.”

You rolled your eyes in irritation, dropping your head back onto the pillow. “It’s not the same! I at—”

He cut you off, shifting up your body in one swift motion and pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was demanding, his way of telling you to shut up without needing to actually say anything. You could taste yourself on his tongue, a heady reminder of where he had just been. He kissed you until your frustration melted away into a desperate, pliant need, only then did he pull back and move back between your legs.

He added a second finger, stretching you further, scissoring them inside you. The stretch was a dull, pleasant ache, but it wasn’t enough. It was a cruel parody of what you actually needed. “Please, Wonwoo,” you whined, grinding your hips down onto his hand. “Please, let me cum.”

“Not yet,” he said simply, adding a third finger. The stretch was now significant, a burning sensation that mingled with the desperate need. He was opening you up, preparing you, and the thought of what he was preparing you for made you even wetter. He leaned back down, and you thought he was finally going to let you have it, but instead, he just blew a cool stream of air over your clit, making you jolt.

He went back to work, a devastating combination of his fingers curling inside you, pressing against that spot that made you see white, and his tongue returning to your clit with maddeningly light flicks. It was a relentless, calculated assault. The tension built again, even stronger this time. You were so close, the pleasure so sharp it was almost painful. You tried to stay quiet, remembering his roommates, but a choked moan escaped your lips. You grabbed a pillow from beside you and pressed it over your face, muffling the cries you couldn’t hold back.

In a flash, Wonwoo’s free hand ripped the pillow away. “No,” he asserted, his voice firm. “I want to hear you. I want to hear you cry for me.”

The vulnerability of being so completely exposed, of having no choice but to let him hear every sound he pulled from you, sent you spiraling. The pressure inside you peaked, your vision going white, your body tensing as you finally, finally hurtled towards the edge.

And he stopped again.

He pulled his fingers out and lifted his head, leaving you empty and trembling. A sob of pure frustration tore from your throat. This time, you couldn’t stop the tears. They flowed freely now, hot tracks of desperation on your face.

“You’re an asshole,” you cried, your voice cracking.

He laughed, a low, dark chuckle that vibrated through you. He hovered over you, wiping a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I told you. Payback.” He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. “How does it feel, Birdy? To be so desperate but not be able to do anything about it?”

That was it. That was the breaking point. The playful teasing, the edging, the frustration—it all fused into a single, burning need. You were done playing games.

You used every ounce of strength you had to shove him, surprising him enough that he rolled onto his back. You scrambled over him, straddling his waist, hair a wild mess around your face.

“I’m done,” you panted, hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants. “I’m done with your stupid torture. I need you inside me. Now.”

You yanked his sweatpants and boxers down in one rough motion, and his cock sprang free, thick and hard against his stomach. He was leaking precum, the tip flushed a deep, angry red. He was so ready for you, and it only fueled your desperation.

You started to sink down onto him, but his hands shot out, gripping your hips and stopping you. “Wait,” he breathed, his eyes wide. “Raw? Are you sure?”

“I don’t care,” you said instantly, your voice ragged. “Are you clean?”

He stared up at you, his chest heaving, his eyes searching yours. He saw the raw, unfiltered need there, and something in him snapped. “Yes,” he rasped. “I’m clean.”

“Then shut up,” you ordered, and you sank down onto him.

The stretch burned in the most exquisite way, a deep, full pressure that stole your breath. He was bigger than you anticipated, and the feeling of him filling you so completely was overwhelming. You took it slow, your body adjusting inch by inch until he was fully seated inside you. You collapsed forward, your forehead resting on his chest, your body trembling.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice strained, his hands stroking your back soothingly.

You took a deep breath, then pushed yourself up, a slow, wicked grin spreading across your face. You smacked his chest, right over his heart.

“You’re so big,” you said with awe.

You looked down between your bodies, where you were joined, and saw the mess of pre-cum on his stomach. “And look at you,” you teased, rocking your hips experimentally. “You’re all worked up from just eating me out…”

He groaned, his head falling back against the pillows. “Fuck, can you please move?”

You hummed while you pretended to think about his request. “Only if you take your shirt off.”

Wonwoo sighed in annoyance, briskly shifting his torso upward to pull his shirt over his head in one fluid motion before reaching out to tug firmly on the hem of yours. You huffed in amusement before pulling the fabric over your head. Wonwoo’s gaze immediately zeroed in on your chest, muttering out a low ‘fuck’ at the sight in front of him.

Pleased with his obedience, you started to move. It was slow at first, a deliberate roll of your hips that had you both gasping. You found a rhythm, increasing your speed, your hands braced on his chest. The feeling was heavenly, the drag of him inside you hitting all the right spots. Wonwoo’s hands were everywhere, roaming up your back, tangling in your hair, cupping your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your sensitive nipples and making you cry out.

He was getting vocal, low groans and curses spilling from his lips as you bounced on his cock. He was completely gone, lost in the pleasure, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. He looked utterly fucked out.

The sight sent a jolt through you, making your pussy gripped his cock tighter. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he lifted his hips up to meet each one of your vile bounces. But the relentless pace was starting to take its toll on your energy—your thighs were burning, your movements were becoming sloppy.

Wonwoo sensed it immediately.

In one smooth, powerful motion, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you in a tight bear hug—pulling you flush against his chest. Your movements faltered as you collapsed against him, panting. He held you for a split second, face buried in your neck, and then he planted his feet firmly on the bed.

He started fucking up into you with a force you’ve never experienced before. The new angle was devastating. He was hitting deeper, harder, his hips snapping up with a brutal rhythm. All you could do was hold on, your arms wrapping around his neck as your body was completely overwhelmed by his.

The headboard slammed against the wall with a rhythmic, damning thud. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your combined moans and groans. There was no way the others couldn’t hear you but Wonwoo didn’t seem to care. He’d heard Mingyu and Seokmin enough times. It was his turn if anything.

One of his hands left your waist, sliding up your back to tangle in your hair, tugging just enough to make you gasp. His other hand roamed lower, gripping your ass possessively before he delivered a sharp, stinging smack. The sound echoed in the room, and the jolt of pain turned pleasure that shot through you made your pussy clench around him.

“Fuck,” he groaned. Wonwoo did it again, harder this time, leaving a warm, tingling imprint on your skin. “You like that, don’t you, Birdy?”

You could only moan in response, your mind going blank as he shifted his grip. His hand moved from your ass to your chest, groping your breast, his thumb and forefinger rolling your nipple between them. He pinched hard, sending a sharp jolt straight to your clit. He leaned down, his mouth finding the sensitive area between your neck and shoulder—not kissing—but biting you. He was leaving his claim all over your body, and the possessiveness of it all sent you spiraling.

You were completely at his mercy, he held you tight in his embrace as he chased your high. The coil in your stomach tightened to an impossible degree, the pleasure so sharp and intense it was almost blinding. “Won— I’m—” you choked out, nails digging into his shoulders.

Wonwoo could only grunt in response, as he continued to buck up into your heat. Your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. Your entire body convulsed, your pussy clamping down around his cock as waves of pleasure wash over you. Despite your overstimulated cries, he continued to fuck you through your orgasm—hips never faltering.

He followed you over the edge a moment later with a guttural groan, burying himself deep inside you as he came, his warmth flooding all of your senses. He stilled, his body a heavy, comforting weight against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath.

“You okay?” He asked as he stroked your arm in soothing circles. You could only nod in response, your mind was still reeling from all the pleasure.

For a moment, you just stayed like that, a tangled, sweaty heap. But it didn’t last long before he was moving again, his energy seemingly endless. In one fluid motion, he pulled out and flipped you over with surprising strength. He grabbed your hips, pulling your ass up until you were on your knees, face down into his pillows.

You barely had a second to process the new position before he was slamming back into you, the new position hitting a devastating angle.

He just chuckled. “What’s wrong, Birdy?” he taunted, his hips starting a new rhythm. “You were so desperate for me earlier, begging me to fuck you. Are you gonna tap out on me after just one round?”

You wanted to snap back, tell him to go to hell, but you couldn’t form a single coherent though. All you could do was feel the way he was filling you up again.

He set a harsh pace, his grip on your hips tight enough to leave bruises. It wasn’t long before you both reached the edge again, bodies still feeling the effects of the last round. He reached over, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, fast circles. That was all you needed. Your orgasm crashed over you again, a blinding all-consuming release that had you crying out his name. Your walls clenched around him, and he groaned, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own end.

He came with a raspy groan as he buried himself deep inside you. You felt the hot spurts of his release and you instinctively pushed back against him—milking him of what was left. After a beat or so, Wonwoo let himself fall on top of you, the sensitivity finally hitting him.

For a long moment, you just lay there, feeling the pleasant, bone-deep ache in your muscles and the comforting weight of him still inside you. You could feel his heartbeat, a wild thrum against your back, slowly beginning to calm.

He started to shift, preparing to pull out, but you panicked, your hand shooting back to grab his hip, holding him in place. “No,” you breathed, the word muffled by the pillow. “Don’t. Not yet.”

He stilled, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder blade. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice a low, raspy vibration against your skin. “I won’t.”

You weren’t ready for it to be over. For the connection to be broken. The thought of him leaving you empty now was unbearable. You needed a minute, just one more minute, to memorize the feeling of being this full, this connected.

But as your breathing evened out and the post-orgasmic haze settled, a new awareness crept in. The sticky mess between your thighs, the sweat cooling on your skin, the lingering taste of him in your mouth. It was glorious, but it was also gross.

“We need a shower,” you mumbled into the pillow.

Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed, but he made no move to get up. “In a minute.”

That minute stretched into two, then five. You were drifting in a state of blissful exhaustion, halfway to sleep, when you felt it. A slow, deliberate roll of Wonwoo’s hips against your ass. He was still inside you, and he was getting hard again.

Your eyes fluttered open. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” you whispered, a disbelieving laugh escaping you.

He chuckled, his lips tracing the line of your spine. “Why are you surprised?" he murmured, his voice already thick with renewed desire. “You’re the one that asked me to stay inside of you.”

He rolled his hips again, a slow, deep grind that had you gasping. It was a lazy, possessive movement, a stark contrast to the frantic pace from before.

“Again?” you asked, your voice laced with awe and a burgeoning excitement. You were sore but your body was already responding to his lazy thrusts, a familiar heat blooming low in your belly.

“Just one more time,” he promised, his voice a low rumble. He slowly, carefully pulled out, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. He flipped you over onto your back, his eyes roaming over your body—your flushed skin, the marks he’d left on your neck and chest, the mess between your legs. He looked hungry, like a predator admiring his kill.

He settled between your thighs, not entering you yet, just resting his cock against your slick folds. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, deep kiss. It wasn’t frantic or demanding; it was lazy, thorough, a kiss that was meant to be savored. He was tasting you, claiming you all over again.

“Your greed sickens me,” you quipped against his mouth, your hands tangling in his messy hair.

“You started it,” he countered, but he was smiling. He propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at you. “This time, though… we’re going slow.”

He reached down, lining himself up with your entrance, and then he pushed inside, excruciatingly slowly. You were already so sensitive, so thoroughly used, that every inch was a potent, overwhelming sensation. You felt every ridge, every vein of him as he filled you. He watched your face intently, his gaze dark and focused, as if memorizing your every reaction.

When he was finally fully seated, he paused, letting you adjust. “Okay?” he asked softly.

You could only nod, your throat too tight to form words.

He started to move, a slow, languid rhythm that was somehow more intense than the brutal pace from before. Every thrust was deep, deliberate, grinding against your A-spot in a way that made your toes curl. There was no urgency now. This wasn’t about chasing a quick release; this was about drawing out the pleasure, about savoring every single second.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your breasts, stroking your sides, gripping your hips to pull you deeper onto his cock. He was everywhere. He leaned down to kiss you again, his tongue lazily exploring your mouth, matching the rhythm of his hips.

You were completely lost in it, in him. The room, the apartment, the world outside—it all faded away. There was only Wonwoo, the weight of his body on yours, the slow, deep drag of his cock inside you, and the low, encouraging sounds he made in your ear.

“You feel so good,” he murmured, his voice thick with awe. “So perfect, taking me so well.”

His praise sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles at the small of his back, urging him deeper. He groaned, burying his face in your neck, his thrusts becoming a little harder, a little faster.

The slow burn was building again, but this time it was different. It wasn't a sharp, explosive peak waiting to happen; it was a slow, creeping tide, rising gradually, threatening to drown you in pleasure. You could feel it in your trembling limbs, in the way your breath hitched, in the desperate, needy sounds you couldn’t stop making.

“Wonwoo,” you gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. “I… I can’t…”

“I know,” he grunted, his own rhythm starting to falter. “Let go for me, baby.”

He reached down between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit. He didn’t rub it frantically; he just pressed down, applying slow, and firm flicks as he continued to thrust into you. The slow tide peaked and your orgasm washed over you, a long, rolling wave of pleasure that seemed to go on forever. You cried out his name, your body arching against his as you clenched around him, pulling him deeper.

He groaned your name like a prayer, his hips stuttering as he followed you over the edge, his own release pulsing deep inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm, and you held him tight, your arms wrapped around his back, your hearts beating in tandem.

You lay there for what felt like an eternity, basking in the afterglow. The sun was higher now, casting a bright, golden glow around the room. The sounds of the apartment were starting to stir—distant cupboard doors closing, the low rumble of a voice in the living room. That’s going to be a problem for later.

Finally, Wonwoo lifted his head, his eyes soft and sated. “Okay,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Now we really need to shower.”

You hummed in agreement, though you didn’t feel like moving yet. The adrenaline was draining out of you as each second passed and with that, your limbs began to feel like lead.

Wonwoo let out a weak, breathy laugh, but he didn’t argue. He shifted, slowly and carefully pulling out of you. You whimpered at the sudden emptiness, a feeling you were already starting to hate. He grabbed a few tissues from the nightstand, gently cleaning you up before tossing them in the trash. He pulled the blanket over your tangled bodies, settling back onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to look at you.

“Five minutes,” he echoed softly, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.

You felt the gentle weight of his arm drape over your waist, pulling you just a little closer. The sounds of the apartment faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing and his heartbeat.

Five minutes was all you needed before facing the world.

Or maybe ten.

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Good Girl - K.MG

🖐️Who: Kim Mingyu (Seventeen) x female reader 🖐️️What: Smut (18+). Best friends to FWB. 🖐️️Word count: 3.8k 🖐️️Warnings: Dom Mingyu. Sub Reader. Mingyu is bigger than reader, and it’s implied he can support her weight. Spanking. Dirty talk. Pussy slapping. Fingering. Spit. Big dick Mingyu. Degradation. Unprotected PIX sex. Cum eating. Praise. Squirting. I think that’s everything! 🖐️️Summary:

One minute, you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend, and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio. I also block blank blogs.

Masterlist

A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.

If someone were to ask you how it started, you really could not give them an answer. Even as someone involved, you really don't know how you got to this point.

You haven't even had any alcohol, you're completely sober; but one minute, you're sitting on the couch watching a movie with your best friend, and the next, you're face down with one of his hands on the back of your neck and the other routinely connecting with your ass.

“That's it, baby, you're being so good for me,” Mingyu coos, stopping his borderline harsh spanks to rub a soothing hand over the latest area of impact. All while you're panting and sniffling into the pillow, both hands balled up in the material and mind completely fucking empty. “Are you going to stop talking back now? Going to be my good girl, hm?” You can't even manage to respond, just make some kind of garbled whine in response. Mingyu chuckles lowly, and slowly, so fucking slowly leans over you from where he's on his knees behind you.

You know he doesn't need to press against you, he's so much fucking bigger than you, so he could easily spread over you without pressing his cock against your ass; but you feel it, and it only makes everything so much worse. He's hard, and so fucking big against you. You have never wanted anyone more than you want him in this moment.

“Turn your head, baby,” comes his soft encouragement as his right hand moves from the back of your neck, to press to the armrest above your head and brace himself, while his left hand slides up from your ass, dragging his heavy touch along the side of your torso, and over the back of your shoulder until he can get a grip on your jaw. “Come on,” he murmurs, tightening his touch and tugging. You let him turn your face out of the pillow to the side; you can just about make out his smirking features hovering over you. “That's my girl.”

“Gyu,” you manage, sounding so wrecked already, and he hasn't even gotten truly started.

“I know, baby, I know,” he hums, adjusting his hold on your jaw to brush his middle finger over the slight opening of your lips. Without thought, you open wider and allow him to slide his finger into your mouth. “Look at you; so ruined already, sweetheart, and I haven't even touched you.” He chuckles, it's a little mean-sounding, condescending. It makes you whine needily and arch back against him. He licks his lips and presses down on your tongue while rolling his hips against you in return. “That what you want, princess? Want my cock in your desperate little pussy, hm? Bet you're already fucking soaked, huh? Gonna drown my cock, aren't you, baby?” You nod dumbly, eyes fluttering closed as he adjusts his position behind you so that the next harsh grind of his hips has his cock rolling over your clit through the material covering both of your bodies. “Fuck, I can feel you, you know? Filthy girl is soaking me through both of our shorts. Are you that desperate for my cock?”

“Gyu,” it's not very clear at all, what with his finger still in your mouth and massaging over your tongue teasingly. Not that you care; your head is in the clouds.

Actually, your head is so fucking past the clouds, you're lightyears away. You really don't care if your attempt at his name is clear, so long as he understands the desperate tone behind it.

He does, and lets out another one of those low, condescending chuckles. “Is that supposed to be my name?” he teases while leaning down on his left elbow to support his weight without removing his finger from your mouth.

In fact, he adds his index finger in beside the first and presses them both down firmly on your tongue. He smirks as he notices the drool spilling from your parted lips onto the pillow under your head— he couldn't see that particular detail from his previous position. It makes his cock jump with interest.

“Oh, look at you, sweetheart, you're making such a fucking mess from both holes, drooling everywhere.” You haven't noticed that he has moved his right hand off the armrest until you feel it at the waistband of your shorts. “Should I take these down, princess?” You nod rapidly and wiggle a little. “Okay, okay.” He huffs a laugh and grabs the waistband of both your shorts and panties at once to tug them down your ass and thighs and leave them bunched around your knees.

There's a moment when nothing more happens, Mingyu just watches your face with more restraint than you personally would have in this moment if the roles were reversed.

And then, to your genuine surprise, his right hand comes down, right between your thighs. There's a very wet-sounding connection over your pussy, and your eyes fly wide as you shriek in shock. It wasn't a very harsh slap at all; more like Mingyu testing the waters as his eyes remain on you.

When your eyes dart to him, he smirks and taps against your pussy a few times as his hand is still resting there. “I knew you'd like that,” he taunts. “Filthy little girl likes having her pussy slapped, huh?” To prove his point, he pulls his hand back and brings it down, this time a little closer and harsher, connecting his fingers firmly with your clit and sending a shock of sharp pleasure through your body.

You jerk involuntarily and keen while your left hand flails out and grips his wrist by your face to try and ground yourself. He lets you, his smirk growing bigger, cockier. With every slap against your throbbing pussy, you feel yourself get wetter, dripping out over his hand and down your thighs. The couch is probably getting soaked under you, but you're too far gone to give a fuck.

“If I knew you were this much of a little slut, I'd have played with this pussy ages ago,” Mingyu mutters when he finally stops his pleasurable attack and instead starts to slide his fingers up and down over your sopping folds.

Without warning, the tips of his middle and ring finger catch on your hole before sliding in. You're so fucking wet that he doesn't hesitate to sheath his two fingers in you right down to the knuckles.

“Oh, good fucking girl,” he groans lowly. “So wet for me, huh, baby? Taking my fingers like they're nothing.” He works his fingers in you for a moment, just languidly stretching and twisting them without pulling them out. “Think you can take another for me, princess?” You nod, whining a little in need and pushing your hips back against his hand. “Stay still,” he warns. “I'll fuck you how I want, you don't get a fucking say in it, understand?” You nod again quickly and fall still to allow him to do whatever he wants. “Good girl.”

It's torture; the way Mingyu slowly drags his two fingers right out to the tips, to add his index finger to the mix before sliding the three in together. Your eyes flutter close at the pressure, the extra finger adding enough stretch against your hole to make your breath stutter, so you don't notice the way Mingyu's expression turns lax as he feels your walls pressing against his fingers, sucking them in, and making him wish he already has his cock buried in your pussy.

But he can't. Mingyu knows he's big, borderline ridiculously big, honestly, so he can't rush this. Needs to get you all stretched and ready before he buries his thick cock in you and fills you with his cum.

Slowly, Mingyu works you open on three fingers: moving at such a pace both to be careful, and to tease you. He can feel you sporadically squeezing down around his fingers, and your hips twitching with the urge to move and force him to speed up, but you stay still.

You're being so fucking good for him, such a good fucking girl that he can't keep it up for as long as he initially planned. You've entirely soaked his hand and don't seem to have any issue at all when he slightly spreads his fingers inside you, so he figures you're ready.

When the two fingers in your mouth start to retreat, you panic and open your eyes, while gripping his wrist tighter to pull him back.

Mingyu watches slack jawed as you suck his fingers back in with a moan, tongue swirling and cheeks hollowing slightly. “Fuck, baby, bet you'd love my cock in that dirty mouth right now, wouldn't you?” You blink at him, eyes so glazed and heavy, giving away how truly gone you are. He groans a little.

Minutely, you shake your head.

“No? No what?” You suck on his fingers a little harder, reminding him of his own words. “Oh, you don't want my cock in this hole?” He presses down on your tongue harshly, making you moan. “Where do you want it then, sweetheart? Gonna tell me where you want my cock?”

You don't speak, you can't; even if his fingers weren't filling your mouth, you're already too fucked out to speak, but you have enough control over the rest of your body.

Mingyu swears colourfully when you squeeze your pussy around his fingers, clamping down in answer to his question. “You want my cock in your pussy, huh?” He abruptly pulls his fingers from your mouth and starts to straighten up. “You're gonna fucking get it, princess.”

Having his hand moving so suddenly away from your face has you panicking, not quite sure what's going on in your fuzzy headspace, so you yelp and grip his wrist to try and keep him near to you. Keep you grounded.

Mingyu pauses his retreat and leans over to kiss your head. “It's okay, baby, I'm not leaving. I'm going to fuck you now, okay?” You blink when he pulls back enough to peer at you and meet your gaze. “Is that okay, sweetheart? Your Gyu is going to fill you up, hm?”

The way you blink at him is so cute and innocent that he can't help but smile softly at you and lean back in to press a kiss to your temple.

“Give me your hand, princess,” he encourages, trying to wiggle his wrist from your hold without upsetting you. Slowly, you release your grip and let him take your hand into his. “Good girl.”

Mingyu gifts you with one more little kiss, on the apple of your cheek this time, before he's straightening up to his full height on his knees behind you, while carefully manoeuvring your left arm backwards in a way that won't hurt. He watches your response as he presses the back of your hand to your lower back; you don't react and just let him do it, while your fingers wiggle a little until his palm is against yours and you can wrap your fingers around his hand.

It's cute, he thinks; how you're searching for the comfort of his hold right now when he's about to fuck you until you forget your own name.

His attention turns down to where his fingers are still buried in you, not moving, but still there. The fond little smile immediately slips off of his face at the sight of your pussy stretching around his fingers.

“Fuck,” he whispers lowly and adjusts his position a little, to get a better view as he slowly drags his fingers out. He licks his lips, then lifts his hand to his mouth to lap at your flavour coating his skin. A low moan rumbles from his chest. "Gonna eat this pussy later. Once I've filled you up, gonna make you cum all over my tongue, baby."

With his hand still mostly wet, he reaches down to shove his shorts and boxers down enough to free his cock. You feel it against the bare skin of your ass; he feels so hot and heavy and you want him in you so fucking much. You squeeze down against nothing and Mingyu notices, watches the way more slick dribbles out of your constricting hole.

“Fuck, baby, you're desperate for something in this dripping pussy, huh,” he taunts, voice low as he places his hand over the bottom of your ass, in the perfect place that he can pull you open for his eyes and slip his thumb into you. You whimper a little; it's nowhere near what you need. Mingyu chuckles as he feels you trying to clamp down around his thumb and get more friction. “Oh, baby, that's not going to work,” he coos and pulls against your walls slightly to spread your hole.

Nobody has ever done that to you before. It feels kind of degrading, but you find that you're not opposed. You push back against him. Instantly, he pulls his hand back and then brings it down to connect with the swell of your bare asscheek, hard enough to immediately leave a red mark. You shriek and flail a little, though push right back against his touch.

Mingyu laughs mockingly. “Such a desperate little slut, all for me huh?” He grips his cock and directs it to thunk the head against your clit, making your hips jerk as you whine. “Bet you'd let me do whatever the fuck I want to you, right, baby? So long as you get this cock in your pussy.” As if proving a point, he spits right on your pussy where his cock is teasing you. You moan, making him laugh again. Though this time, he sounds more pleased than teasing. “Oh, I'm going to enjoy ruining you tonight, baby, and then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all over again. Gonna keep fucking you until you can't take a fucking step without thinking of my cock.”

And then, he starts to push his length into you. He doesn't rush it, but he's not going slow. It feels both too fast and too slow as his thick cock gradually splits you open, bigger than his fingers enough that you still feel every fucking inch of him.

When his hips are flush against your ass, Mingyu stops there with his eyes closed tight enough to crinkle his brows, head dropped down and mouth open wide while he tries to ground himself. You feel so fucking good wrapped around his cock. All hot, and wet, and tight in the best way. It's driving him fucking crazy. He knows he won’t last long at all.

You're not faring much better yourself either. You've never orgasmed from penetration alone, but you feel so fucking close right now that it genuinely wouldn't surprise you if you do cum the second he moves.

“You okay, baby?” Mingyu asks carefully, after almost a full minute of breathing his climax away. He soothes his right hand over your hip and up to your waist, then back down to hold you again with his thumb running over your heated skin gently.

It takes you a few seconds to hum in confirmation and nod a little. Mingyu smiles at the sight of your closed eyes and open mouth. You look so blissed out and he hasn't even fucked you, hasn't even made you cum yet. He knows you're going to look fucking beautiful cumming on his cock.

“Are you ready for me to move?” You respond quicker this time, a desperate tinge to the nod, making him laugh softly; amused and fond. “Okay, baby, brace against the armrest for me, hm?” Blindly, you remove your right hand from the pillow to reach the few inches above you and press your palm flat to the armrest. “That's my good girl,” he praises, then slowly starts to pull his hips back. It's half to tease, and half for him to check that the slightest bit of friction on his cock isn't going to make him bust then and there. It doesn't, but he can feel the pressure gathering all the same in his body, so he knows he's going to cum very, very soon.

When Mingyu thrusts back into you, it's hard and quick, and he doesn't stop there. Immediately, he's drawing his hips back and repeating the action with low moans. And all you can do is gasp, moan, and try to grip his hand and the armrest for dear life as he fucks into you almost animalistically. Like there's only one thing on his mind and he doesn't give a fuck if he bruises you to get it. Honestly, you don't care either; you'd probably even welcome the marks on your skin.

But you can't think of that right now, can't think of anything but his cock pummelling your walls and dragging rapidly across all the most deliciously sensitive spots inside of you.

“Fuck,” he manages to choke out as he feels you getting tighter and tighter; it makes his own orgasm rush closer to the surface. “Baby, cum, fucking cum right fucking now,” he demands roughly, leaning forward enough that he can reach around with his right hand.

All it takes is a little harsh tap on your clit and you clamp down. The orgasm hits you so powerfully that you almost scream his name as you gush around his length.

Mingyu’s head tips back while he groans deeply with his eyes closed, and presses his hips tight up against you, emptying into you with your walls pulsating around his cock to draw every drop of cum out.

For a handful of minutes, you both just try to catch your breath; Mingyu still pressed up against you and face tilted back to the ceiling, mouth open and chest finally no longer heaving so desperately.

With his lungs no longer screaming for oxygen, Mingyu drops his head forward and opens his eyes to look down at you. For a second, he thinks you've fallen asleep: your face is slack, eyes closed, and mouth parted a little; but when he draws his hips back to let his soft length slip out of you, you wince, showing that you're still awake.

“Did so good for me, sweetheart,” he hums, sitting back on his heels and gently lets go of your hand. You let him and allow your arm to flop back down to your side, too sated and exhausted to care about the ache in your shoulder and elbow. Mingyu's hands both run over the backs of your thighs and your ass as he watches his cum trickle out of your hole. “So good,” he breathes out, then grips your ass to spread you open for him, to lean in and lick up the mix of both of your arousal leaking from your hole. You squeak in surprise and jerk. “Shh, shh, baby, it's okay, let Gyu lean you up, hm? I told you I want to eat your pussy after I've filled you.”

Honestly, if you weren't so fucked dumb, you'd probably push him away due to sensitivity, but you can't really move and his tongue is surprisingly gentle considering how rough he fucked you. So, you just sigh softly and remain as still as you can when every pass of his tongue over your clit makes your hips twitch.

“Mm, good, good girl, just like that, that's my girl,” he encourages you in between licks and kisses against your heated, sensitive skin. “Just a little more, hm.”

You hum vaguely in response, agreeing even if you're not entirely sure what you're agreeing to. There's probably very little you wouldn't agree to where Mingyu is concerned. You just never expected him to find that out.

Just like he opened you up, Mingyu takes his time and goes slow and steady as he licks and slurps at you. Even when he slides a finger in you to tease his cum out, he's in no rush.

It doesn't really register in your mind just how good it feels; you're moaning softly, yes, but you don't really register that either. It's kind of soothing; his meticulous, thorough actions. And then, he's swallowed down the last of his cum, and his finger is joined by another and he's curling them downwards; brushing over your g-spot and making you gasp with every pass.

Suddenly, you realise how tight that ball in your lower belly has gotten, and the pressure building even lower. You want to warn him, but you can't speak.

Mingyu's now rubbing against that very specific spot on your walls, still slow and gentle about it, but with enough pressure and insistence that you're being pulled towards another powerful orgasm. It already feels so different from the first; like it's in your whole body, but just as powerful.

“Gyu,” you manage the first word you've spoken in what feels like fucking hours. Just a broken soft little gasp of his name.

It makes him moan against you; the vibrations travel through his lips pressed against your clit and send you over. The orgasm hits you a second before you feel that pressure burst. Mingyu moans louder than you as you squirt over his face and hand before he's desperately trying to swallow every drop of it down.

As much as Mingyu would happily dedicate his life to eating your pussy, he can tell you really aren't able to handle that right now, so when he's sure your orgasm has ebbed, he gently removes his fingers from you. He takes another couple of seconds to pass his tongue over you and slurp up the last drops he can, then leans back.

It's clear that you both need a shower, or a bath, something, but also that you are incapable of doing either. Sure, Mingyu could physically hold you up safely in the water, at least normally he'd be able, to but right now? You're not the only one with weakened thighs from a toe-curling orgasm. He's very certain he hasn't cum that hard in a long time.

Carefully, Mingyu tugs your panties and shorts back up onto your hips and then fixes his own clothes before he shuffles back enough to give you space when he tugs your thighs out. You flop rather ungracefully stomach down onto the couch, making him chuckle softly, before he crawls over and nudges you onto your right side with your back to the back of the couch.

“Hey, baby,” he greets softly, laying down on his left and tucking his arm under your head so you're resting on his bicep, and his head is on his own hand when he bends his arm back to himself. He winds his right arm around your waist and places a kiss on your head. “You're already mostly there, but let's nap, hm, sweetheart? And when we wake, we'll get some food and talk. But now, sleep.”

You softly grunt in response; a sleepy confirmation of words that don't even register. He chuckles and presses another kiss to your head before closing his eyes, more than ready to get some much-needed sleep.

Don't forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @svtiddiess, @codeinebelle

[thestraybunny]

Games We Play||J.WW||Ch.4

Pairing: Non-Idol Jeon Wonwoo x Afab!Reader WC: 9.4+k Rating: E 18+ MDNI; I will block underage accounts Genre: Non-idol AU, Enemy/Coworkers to lovers, Smut, fluff, slight angst Summary: How sickening this game that started off so harmless turned into something so upsetting. So, instead you chose to let it go, swiping out the messages and turned off the notifications to his messages. You accepted what you were, a fool, but you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of you chasing after him anymore. Fuck, why did it hurt so much?

Tags: Coworkers to lovers, temp ldr, personal trainer/gamer Wonwoo, Personal Trainer Mingyu, Gamer Jeong Yunho, Receptionist reader, Wonwoo is so down bad for her, reader is just as bad but wont admit it, text conversation, flirting, angst, lying??, Wonwoo is a dumbass, limited gym business knowledge and how gaming teams work. Nicknames: Dreamer, baby (Hers). Let me know if I am missing any Song for the chapter Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter

A/N: Heeeelllloooo!!! Thank you to @gam3bo17 for beta reading, honestly you are the reason this fic is even around. Thank you for everyone who has been liking, commenting, and reblogging. I really appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this chapter... <3 A/N2: Also thank you @kyeomofhearts for helping me pick the song without any context to why. It fits well. A/N3: This part connects to my Mingyu Fic, Heartrate. You do not need to read Mingyu's fic to understand this, because it focuses on Mingyu and his Y/N, which is Gemma in this fic.

Previous Part||Series Masterlist||Main Masterlist

“So, this is really it?” Yunho asked with a soft chuckle, catching Wonwoo checking out. The team building activities that Wonwoo had agreed to stay for had concluded the previous day, and he was no longer obligated to stay for the rest of the trip or partake any of the remaining schedules for the team.

And Wonwoo was more than ready to go home.

“You keep acting like I am going off into the sunset, never to be seen again.” Wonwoo shook his head, handing over the keys to his room. Officially checking out and closing this chapter of his life for now. “I’m only a Discord message away and always around to kick your ass. Besides, I plan to come back eventually.”

“I know. I just am bummed because I’m losing my best team friend for a while. Who else am I going to convince to explore and be my photographer?” The younger man rolled his eyes, slapping away Wonwoo’s outreached arm to give him a hug instead. One that was easily returned before parting, and Yunho continued, “Did you already call a ride yet?” Wonwoo nodded, “Cancel that shit. I got the van today, so I can take you.”

“I did, but it’s taking forever to connect me to a driver. So, why not?” Wonwoo shrugged, pulling his phone out to cancel the ride he had requested. Looking toward the younger, he then raised his brow in suspicion, “Why do you have the van today?”

“That’s my secret.” Yunho laughed, grabbing his suitcase to take it out for him. Wonwoo watched him carefully, catching that his laugh was a guilty one and wouldn’t look toward him.

“You’re meeting someone, aren’t you?” Silence followed for a moment as the two crossed the parking lot to one of the rented team vans.

“Okay, yeah, maybe. She’s just a friend, and traveling to see me,” Yunho then spoke, loading the suitcase into the van, but there was a change in his tone that was hard to miss. Shy, a little giddy, ears reddening, and the smile he was trying to hold back was breaking though. A friend, sure. “She’s actually going to be landing soon, so I’m heading to the airport anyways.”

“I don’t know, sounds to me like the great Tteoks possibly has someone. This may just be as surprising as me supposedly falling in love.” Slipping into the passenger side of the van, he couldn’t stop from laughing as Yunho’s already reddening skin turned brighter.

“Speaking of you falling in love. Is this ‘elsewhere interest’ have anything to do with you leaving early? I figured you would at least stay and treat it like a bit of a vacation.” Yunho retorted, pointing a playful finger toward Wonwoo, “She must really be special to wanna rush back home.”

“Kind of, but I also need to get back to the gym. Kind of left my roommate high and dry at the worst possible time. So, it’s not just her.” Pulling out his phone, he checked the time and reread his last message to you.

Wonwoo: I may be unreachable for a while. We are going on this team building hike bullshit. I will message you when I get back.

He wasn’t actually supposed to come back for another week and a half, but since he was no longer needed, he took the chance to leave early. Only he didn’t tell you, nor did he tell Mingyu. You because he was planning to surprise you, and Mingyu because he would tell you and ruin everything. Something he didn’t want to do.

The messages between the two of you had changed after that phone call. Deeper conversations than just harmless flirting, and light talks about day to day things. You two opened up to each other on a more emotional level. Like you told him more about your life with roommate, your family life, and he provided the same. Getting to know each other better, getting closer, and it honestly gave him hope that after the last two years, you knew how he actually felt about you.

Not to mention the sexting was some of the best he ever had. He could only imagine how amazing the sex will be with you too.

The flight had been uneventful, with Wonwoo using the time to either sleep or edit the photos he took while he was away. The inflight dinner was decent, and the entertainment options were mildly entertaining when he actually paid attention. He also spent a lot of the time trying to decide how exactly he was going to surprise you.

Wonwoo was not the one to do grand gestures, nor was he one for surprises either, and rather be more straightforward when it came to the person he likes. He would rather openly plan something with the person, go out to eat or see a movie. Or possibly go somewhere nice so that he could get some good shots with his camera, of his person, and confess his feelings that way.

He wasn’t the type to leave a work trip early to hop onto a plane to surprise someone like he was now.

Except when it came to you, he was starting to want to throw caution to the wind because he let you dig yourself deep under his skin that he was crazy for you. He wasn’t the type to send the photos and videos like he did for you. He couldn’t remember the last time it felt good to talk to someone like he did with you, get you wrapped around his finger like he was coiled so tightly around yours.

Wonwoo couldn’t even wait the week and a half to come home. To you. There was no telling how things were going to go when he got back, all he knew was that he wanted to finally make you his.

God the trouble you are going to get him into.  

After a long flight, Wonwoo decided it was better to stop by his apartment first before going to see you. He was feeling confident that Mingyu wasn’t going to be home, so it would give him a chance to drop off his things and clean himself up. Something nicer than torn-up jeans and an over-sized t-shirt (that may or may not had been Mingyu’s at one point), greasy hair under a beanie, and a few days of facial hair.

He knew that you wouldn’t care if he was in this state, you just wanted him no matter the state he was in. Except if he was going to be doing all this, he wasn’t going to look dirty or even smell like an airport when he finally laid eyes on you again.

If only he had been right about Mingyu not being home.

“What the hell are you doing home?” Both men said at the same time when Wonwoo walked through the door.

“No, you first! You’re the one who was in a whole different ass country! Why didn’t you tell me that you were coming home early?” Mingyu accused, playfully pointing at the older man before giving him a tight hug.

“I only had to stay for the team building activities, but I’m off the team for now.” Wonwoo shrugged, breaking from his clingy best friend to bring his bag into his room, but he still felt the younger man following him. Tossing his suitcase to the side, Wonwoo made quick work to get fresh clothes from his dresser and closet, continued to focus on getting ready to go see you.

“Wait, you’re no longer on the team? Why? I been following the whole tournament, you ranked third and missed second by a few points. They really took you off the team because of that?” Mingyu sounded like he was spiraling with his questions, and Wonwoo could only chuckle.

“No, they didn’t remove me from the team. I have a clause in my contract that if I need to take a step back, then I can remove myself for a while.” He shrugged, looking over his shoulder toward Mingyu, “After this last tournament, I felt like it was time to take a break for a while. Go back to mainly streaming and focusing on the gym with you.”

“As flattering as the gesture is, why do I feel like there is more to this than you are letting on? You always look forward to these tournaments.”

“It’s just my time to focus on life back here. Get the gym back on its feet, and all that shit.” Wonwoo didn’t give any indication that Mingyu had been right that there was more than he was letting on. Of course, there was more than he was letting on, in the form of you, but he wasn’t ready to tell Mingyu. Not until he knows that you are in this as much as he is. “Did you hire anymore people besides Doyoung?”

“Uh, yeah. Hired another one today for the front desk, another full timer. They had previous experience, so really they just got to get used to how we run things. There is someone who might work as a part time trainer, but I still am deciding and wanted to run it by you too. They’ll only be temp because they are moving in a few months, but it can help lighten the load for you and me a bit.” Mingyu leaned against the doorway as he spoke. Wonwoo stiffened when your name was mentioned, “I asked her if she wanted to keeping going as a trainer after you get back. She still has a lot to do to be certified, but with you being back and if we hire that other trainer, I can focus on helping her get what she needs.”

“Well, did she give you an answer yet? Will she no longer work the front desk?” Wonwoo asked, itching his nose to conceal the interest bubbling inside. He knew that you had been helping out with clients while he was gone, but he didn’t realize that it may become a permanent thing. 

“She just said she’ll think about it. But if she says yes, she’ll have to do both for a while. My uncle says she needs to have certain certifications before signing her off as a full time personal trainer. Most I can have her do right now is getting clients started on warmups and then I take over.” Mingyu then chuckled, “Thinking about it, she agreeing to help out was to lighten the load, but it really added more on me. Kinda counter intuitive, if you think about it, but hell we got through it.”

“Sounds like it. Managing the gym while Yujin refused to pull his weight, taking on yours and my clients, not just training Dreamer, but the new employees too? You decided to be Atlas and bear the weight of the world on your shoulders.” Wonwoo answered back, making sure he had everything he needed to go shower. He was listening but also was trying to think of how he could leave without further questioning. “Well, give me until Monday, and I will be able to take my clients back. I need to shower off all this traveling off me.”

“I honestly should have begged to get rid of Yujin sooner, he was just draining money out of my uncle. Money that could have gone to better employees, but no rush on getting back if you need more to get used to the time change.” Mingyu shrugged, clearly not picking up that Wonwoo was wanting him to fuck off so he could shower and sneak away to see you, before a wide grin graced his lips and canines on full display. “You also chose the best time to come home! Because we are going to go celebrate.”

“Celebrate? Celebrate what? And how?”

“We’re going out.” Mingyu announced, already pulling his phone out to message the group chat, “I’m not working tomorrow anyways, cleared my schedule. The team has everything else handled without me, so this is a perfect opportunity.”

“You mean to dinner, right?”

“Fuck, no. We can do that any night. I am going to go get fucked up, and you’re coming with me.” Mingyu announced, walking out of the room and leaving Wonwoo standing there just staring after him, the clothes he was going to change into to see you loosely hanging in his hands. His phone started buzzing in his pocket, “No backing out either! Most the guys already responded back and going to be there. They’re excited to see you!”

“I… are you fucking joking…” Wonwoo almost chased after the younger man so he could either tell him he had plans or strangle him. Strangling sounded better since how the hell was he going to tell him that he had other plans without telling him about you. Or that you weren’t exactly aware that he was home or of his plans to surprise you. “Fuck.”

Dropping his arms, clothes landing on the ground with a thud, he sighed. Realizing how much of a terrible idea this was. This wasn’t like him, this wasn’t something he normally would do, and the universe was just stopping him from doing something stupid. Maybe he needed to think this over more before he saw you.

“You gonna be my wingman tonight, right?” Mingyu asked, reappearing at the door, his wide grin still there while Wonwoo stared at him with a blank expression. “I can be yours too. I know there is going to be a bunch of hot girls at this club tonight. Besides, we really need to start getting back out there.”

“What happened with Gemma?” Wonwoo ignored that he had included him in this statement, and Mingyu’s smile dropped into a frown. The shine in his eyes dimming as he looked away.

“How many times do I have to tell you. She isn’t interested in me like that,” Mingyu shrugged, trying to sound and seem casual as he looked back to his roommate with a smirk, “So, what you say? Wingman?”

Wonwoo knew he was backed into a corner and had to make a choice. The right choice was to tell Mingyu the truth, and that he didn’t care to do anything else but see you right then, but instead Wonwoo took the coward’s way out.

“Sure.” The older man answered with another sigh, and that seemed to satisfy Mingyu as he hurried out of the room. Pulling his phone out, Wonwoo ignored the other messaged notifications as he looked for a particular name in his contacts, “I’ll be your wingman alright.”

Wonwoo: You’re going out with us tonight. Gem: Uh, hello to you to??? Gem: Wait. The hell?! You’re home? Gem: When the fuck did you get home? Why didn’t you tell me? Wonwoo: I just got home, but that’s not important. You’re going out with us tonight. Wonwoo: You owe me. I have helped you out several times. Wonwoo: You can do this for me. Gem: I have no choice in this do I? Wonwoo: If I don’t, you don’t either

Wonwoo could hear Mingyu talking animatedly on the phone, likely with one of the guys, but he didn’t bother trying to find out. He was silently fuming with how quickly his night got taken over, feeling obligated to go out from how the group chat was blowing up. Waiting for Gemma’s response, Wonwoo flipped to your messages to see you had sent a few.

All over the span of the last twenty four hours.

Dreamer: Oh! Have fun!

A few hours passed.

Dreamer: Did you guys make it back okay? Did you have fun? Dreamer: Didn’t get eaten by a bear did you? 😂

A few more hours passed, and another message came in.

Dreamer: You know, telling me that you’re going hiking and then not answering me for hours is a little alarming.

The last ones came a few minutes ago.

Dreamer: Wonwoo, please answer me. You’re starting to freak me out. Dreamer: If I don’t hear from you in the next thirty fucking minutes, I’m calling Mingyu!

His fingers moved quickly.

Wonwoo: Sorry, Dreamer. I crashed as soon as I got in. No need to bring Mingyu into this. Wonwoo: I am happy to know you didn’t miss me too much.

Your message came in quickly, and all it was was an emoji of a middle finger. Another messages came in quickly after.

Dreamer: I was literally about to call for a search party! Don’t scare me like that ever again! Wonwoo: I’m sorry baby. I didn’t mean to worry you. Dreamer: I might forgive you. Wonwoo: Oh? And how can I get rid of that might? Dreamer: Call me later?

Wonwoo stared at your messages before letting out a sigh, the same cowardice that made him agree to go out with Mingyu was stopping him from telling you he was home. That he had come home as some stupid grand gesture that was nothing like him, just so that he could surprise and finally be with you.

He should just type the words, at least tell you he’s home. Maybe invite you out or even better, just tell Mingyu that he was going to hang out with you instead. Except he couldn’t move his fingers right.

Maybe Mingyu and his hesitance was saving him from embarrassment after all. Maybe the younger derailing his night was a sign, and that the surprise would go absolutely wrong. What if you actually wasn’t in it like he thought you were? What if you were creeped out by this gesture? He was such an idiot to think that this was a good idea.

Wonwoo: Of course, baby.

A response from Gemma came through, and it only made him feel shittier for lying to you.

Gem: What time do you need me to be ready by?

The events of that night ended up being one for the books. Mingyu finally got, then nearly lost the girl. Wonwoo had to take care of a very drunk Soonyoung and had to put out the fire Mingyu created.

He didn’t end up calling you either.

You let out a yawn as you stared blankly at the computer screen, cheeks pressed against the palm of your hand, and eyes tired from the blue light. After not being able to sleep over the last few nights, exhaustion was starting to catch up to you. So come that Sunday, you felt like a walking zombie. Wonwoo had barely spoken to you a few days prior, then he disappeared for hours on you before giving you an empty promise he would call you.

Now, he wasn’t responding to you again, and this silence wasn’t something you were used to anymore.

Something about this wasn’t sitting right with you and it left you wondering, even agonizing over it.

Sitting back in the front desk seat, you pulled off your glasses to press your fingers into the corner of your eyes, wishing you stopped to get a coffee on the way to work. You weren’t completely awake to even think about it and was worried about being late instead.

“You look like you seen better days,” Mingyu laughed as a coffee appeared in front of you, and you looked up in surprise. He was blurry, but you couldn’t miss the smile on his face, or the way his shoulders were relaxed.

There was a glow to him.

“Oh my god, you hooked up with someone!” You slapped a hand over your mouth, skin suddenly hot with embarrassment, shocked you even said that to him in the first place. Rushing to put your glasses back on, you started to bow your head in apologies when you saw the look over his face. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“Is it that obvious?” Mingyu muttered looking around to see that the gym currently only had one person in, and they were nowhere near the front desk. Nor did they seem to hear your outburst, “To answer your question, yes I did, but I also need to remind you that we are at work. So, let’s keep this professional.”

“Like that’s stopped any of us before,” You quipped, taking a sip of your coffee before a smile appeared on your face. Briefly forgetting the reason you were so tired, as you poked him for a bit more information, “Was it that… the one you were interested in?”

“Yeah, it was.” You didn’t miss the tint of red that washed over his skin, looking down at his own coffee as he smiled. Clearly reminiscing on what happened. “Wonwoo surprised me by coming home early Friday, and we went out to celebrate. It was a crazy night. Punched a guy, ran away from the scene with her. He and our friend Seungkwan were calling us like crazy because we took off. I nearly messed it all up too.” He chuckled, “Needless to say, she felt the same about me, but she wasn’t able to place that feeling until after. We spent all day yesterday together.”

You were listening, you really were, but you weren’t listening at the same time. Unable to enjoy the tea that Mingyu was spilling, or even your coffee for that matter, because you were too busy trying to keep a smile going. All while trying to not give away that your heart was pounding in your ears. Only internally, you were freaking out.

Wonwoo was back? You mentally tried to think back to your conversations with him, and not once did you remember him telling you that he was coming home early. To you, he was acting like he was still gone.

He…He lied to you?

“I seriously thought I messed it all up though,” Mingyu continued telling the story, unaware of your eye twitching behind your glasses, or how close you were to breaking. Nodding along like an idiot. You were an idiot. “Hyung really saved the day. Now.. I think...I think I have a girlfriend. Maybe I should double check with her. Just to be sure.”

“That’s awesome! I am so excited for you, but did I hear you right? Wonwoo’s back?” You had to applaud yourself from keeping such a steady voice, before taking another drink of your coffee. Using it as a crutch, while hoping your voice or face didn’t crack.

You weren’t sure Mingyu would notice, he was too busy on cloud nine about his new girlfriend. And the last thing you wanted was to dampen his happy moment by letting it slip that you were hurt over Wonwoo and him not telling you he was home. Why didn’t he tell you?

Slowly the words he had said to you, the text and phone calls shared, started to twist into something different. A dirty, disgusted feeling creeping up your throat while stabbing you in the gut. You were to hurt to try and argue with yourself that he wouldn’t do that to you, that he had a good reason to not tell you. But why lie?

“Oh, yeah. That I was originally going to tell you, he’s starting back on Monday. I already moved a few of his clients back to him, but if anyone calls to book a session, you can go ahead and schedule them with him… and please don’t overbook him. Give him at least a week or two before you start torturing each other again.” Mingyu tapped the desk, adjusting his duffle back over his shoulder and headed toward the back office. Unaware of the storm that he had created within you, and the loud pounding of your heart.

Grabbing your phone, you opened up Wonwoo’s messages and began to scroll through them. Wanting to be sure that you didn’t miss it. Maybe he slipped it in, like he hinted at it and you missed it?

Only you find nothing, and that dirty, disgusted feeling twisted the knife in your gut and suddenly his silence made sense. Looking up from the device, you pushed the tip of your tongue out before pulling it back in, helping trap your bottom lip between your teeth. You close your eyes and took a deep breath to center yourself. Slowly, you open your eyes as you exhaled.

The message so clear and obvious.  

“And with a coworker too. Smooth Jeon Wonwoo.” You mumble, knowing this game all too well and you knew who was going to lose in this. You would and you did.

How sickening this game that started off so harmless turned into something so upsetting. So, instead you chose to let it go, swiping out the messages and turned off the notifications to his messages. You accepted what you were, a fool, but you weren’t going to let him have the satisfaction of you chasing after him anymore.

Fuck, why did it hurt so much?

Wonwoo wasn’t sure what time it was when he had woken up, hands shooting out from under his blanket to grab his phone and glasses. Hair sticking up, he crookedly slipped on the frames to check the time. It was near two in the afternoon on Sunday, and Wonwoo guessed that he had slept over twenty four hours. His body finally succumbing to exhaustion from not only traveling from country to country but for the long night he endured because of Mingyu.

Sitting up, Wonwoo squinted toward the screen to check his messages, even with his glasses on. Finding several from his friends, and a few family members.

Soonyoung thanking him for taking care of him, letting him crash and helped him feel better. Seungcheol asking if he was up to gaming if he wasn’t dead to the world. Gemma reminding him that Mingyu will be the one that will be repaying this debt to him. And his father asking him if he wanted to go to dinner when he got home. Yunho had even messaged him asking if he made it home safe and how things were going with you.

There were a few messages from you, with the last being that morning. Telling him that you hoped he had a good day and that you needed coffee. That was the last thing he had gotten from you but still brought a smile on his face. Opening the keyboard he sent you a message.

Wonwoo: What are you doing?

Wonwoo got up from the bed, finally emerging from his room to an empty apartment. Mingyu was at the gym, so the apartment was eerily quiet even for the time it was. The afternoon sunlight breaking through the shades to light the apartment up. Casting shadows off the furniture, everything was still.

He moved through the apartment to the kitchen, his stomach growling and his own focus was to find something to eat. Opening the fridge, he found that there was several packed side dishes, as well as leftover rice and meat that Mingyu had left for him. With a yawn, he pulls out the dishes and was quick to dig into them, not even bothering to heat anything up. Just grabbed some chopsticks and a spoon to start digging in.

Savoring each bite like it had been days since his last meal.

Checking his phone, there wasn’t a reply from you yet, so he finished eating and started to clean up the dishes. When he was done with that, he was disappointed to find you still had to not respond to him. Opening his phone to your messages.

Wonwoo: Are you free today? I got to tell you something.

Sending it off, Wonwoo did his best to not think about it as he continued with his usual routine, as well as everything he was supposed to do the day before. Unpacking, putting up his suitcase, washing and putting away his laundry. He did whatever he could to let the time go by while waiting for your response. Hours went by since his last message and still nothing from you.

“Oh, you’re awake!” Mingyu said with a bit of excitement when he came through the door, finding Wonwoo staring at the television with the PlayStation controller in hand. The game he was trying to play was stuck on the pause menu, “Or are you?”

“Just trying to decide if I want to keep playing this game or switch it.” Wonwoo responded, finally looking at him, clicking back to the main menu without thinking, “How was work?”

“Slow for a Sunday, honestly. My last two clients canceled on me, so I just got caught up on all the paperwork I put off over the last few days,” The taller man responded from his room, where he had been dropping off his bag. When he came out, he had switched to just a pair of grey sweats. “You hungry?”

“If you’re cooking,” Wonwoo answered.

“Yeah, I’m starving. Oh, I spoke with,” Wonwoo’s head perked when Mingyu spoke your name, heading into the kitchen to look for ingredients. “Asked her to take it easy on you for a few weeks. Let you get settled back in before starting your weird cat and mouse game back up. I hope you do the same.”

“She was at work today?” Wonwoo asked, trying to seem casual about his question. Hoping that the panic that was building inside him wasn’t prevalent.

You still found out that he was home through Mingyu, something he didn’t want to happen, and it dawned on him that this was why you weren’t answering. That happening was all his fault.

“She’d work every day if I let her,” Mingyu laughed, shaking his head, “But I was serious when I said for her to take it easy on you. So don’t start shit with her and she will listen. I am sure she will… at least I hope she does.”

“Yeah, yeah. I heard ya.” Wonwoo nodded, thoughts reeling. If Mingyu told you anything about him coming home, then that would mean you knew that he didn’t just get back, and that had been for a few days.

There was no denying you were pissed, and it was like he could now feel your anger through your messages together or lack thereof now. “Um, hey Mingyu.”

“Sup?”

“How did Dreamer take you telling her that I was back?” There had to of been something different in his tone because Mingyu then stopped to turn his head in Wonwoo’s direction. Brow slightly raised in questioning.

“Uh, she sounded a little surprise and surprisingly didn’t bitch about having to take it easy on you,” Mingyu pursed his lips, like he was thinking back to his interaction with you that day, “Perhaps I need to worry about that. Why?”

“So, she didn’t seem mad?”

“Not that I know of. We didn’t really talk about you long, just telling her to take it easy on you. We talked more about me and Gem than you.” Turning completely toward his roommate, Mingyu’s eyes narrowed, crossing his arms slowly. “Again. Why?”

“Just was wondering,” Wonwoo mumbled, looking down at his shirt and found that there was a hole in it. Instead of looking toward Mingyu, he just played around with the torn fabric.

“Okay, spill,” There was a slight annoyance to the younger’s voice, mixing with his curiosity at how cryptic Wonwoo was being. More than usual really. The wheels slowly was starting to turn in his head. “She’s actually been acting different since you been gone too. More obsessed with her phone, always trying to secretly texting someone under the counter. Or checking it when she thinks I am not looking, but I see it. Haven’t said anything cause she wasn’t letting it affect her work at least. And now here you  are asking if she was mad you were coming home. What the fuck is going on?”

“Just wanted to know how she reacted is all. Give me a chance to know what I am coming into tomorrow with her,” Especially since you wouldn’t answer a single text, and he couldn’t exactly call you when Mingyu was there.

“I don’t believe you, I just want you to know,” It appeared that he wasn’t going to keep arguing further, returning his attention to what he was doing in the kitchen. Pulling out different ingredients like he was about to make a five star meal, not two bowls of ramen.

“How does your uncle feel about dating coworkers?” The question came out of nowhere, and Mingyu froze pulling out the pot he was going to use.

“Uh, I don’t think it’s allowed.” The answer came out just as slow as Mingyu looked toward the sofa, catching the way Wonwoo paled. He had been sure that it was okay to, remembering a few sets of old coworkers dating, and they didn’t leave because of that. “I got to double check though… why?”

“Just wondering is all.” Wonwoo answered with a shrug, standing up and slipped his phone into his pocket. Mingyu could only stand there staring at him, his scrutinizing gaze felt like he was being picked apart. Trying to read between the lines, and Wonwoo wanted nothing more than be locked in his room when he figured it out, “Call me when dinner’s ready.”

“No, you aren’t running. You’re going to tell me why you look paler than Jihoon and why you were asking me those things…” The word trailed off as it suddenly clicked for Mingyu. When the texting had started, the way your mood started changing as the weeks went on. The smiling at the texts, the mood change, especially over the last week. He had assumed that you started to see someone, or at least talking to someone.

It also explained why Wonwoo was suddenly home sooner than he planned.

Everything that had transpired over the last two years, how sometimes the weird dislike game felt more like aggressive flirting. The glances that you two would throw at each other when you thought no one was looking. He was right to think that Wonwoo was into you originally, and it all made so much fucking sense.

You and Wonwoo.

“I fucking knew it!”

You had decided to call out that Monday, making up the excuse that you weren’t feeling well to Mingyu. The personal trainer was quick to accept this, but not without asking if everything else was okay. You lied and said it was that you were only calling out cause you weren’t feeling well and maybe coming down with something. This only made him more concern that you were overworking yourself, and for you should have come to him sooner.

It made you feel terrible for lying to him, but you weren’t sure if he would accept the actual reason for you not wanting to come to work. That you didn’t want to see or be forced to interact with Wonwoo. At least not right after learning he played you.

You weren’t torn up to the point that you were crying yourself sick, you hadn’t even cried once since finding out he was home and didn’t tell you. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of that, but you were still really hurt and there was no denying it.

Against your better judgement you let yourself open up to him, do things for him that you wouldn’t for anyone else. You believed his words and found yourself possibly falling for him because of it. You kept messaging him even though part of you felt this was where it was heading, all because you too curious about Jeon Wonwoo. You made yourself into a fool just as much as he made you one too.

He did try to message you several times, you could tell by the number of your messaging app, but you didn’t bother opening them. When you did open your phone to messages, the small preview was him begging you to answer him.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Amelia asked, flopping down next to you with a bag filled with convenience store snacks and drinks. Your favorites ones too, which took you by surprise since you didn’t think she cared to know or even remember. Removing the contents from the bag, she shot you look of concern, “You look like you can cry at any moment. Do I need to beat someone up?”

This made you let out a small breath of a laugh, shooting her a sideways glance before looking back at the pile of snacks and drinks in front of you now. The night you took off to stay at a hotel, just to escape the fighting, Amelia seemed to have an epiphany. Breaking it off with her ex for good, deciding that fixing things with you was more important, and so far it seemed to have brought out a new person in her.

Every trace of him was gone from the apartment, unlike the times before it, and he was still blocked as far as you knew. Apparently fucking his best friend the same night had not only sealed the end of their relationship but did wonders on her attitude.

Of course, even though you accepted her olive branch, you stayed weary of everything. You had been through this enough to not completely trust her, that she wouldn’t go back to him. Except this time, if she did, she would be moving out without any further arguing. At least you got your apartment back from him, and a nicer roommate.

That also meant that Amelia was more attentive to you, her attention no longer elsewhere, and right away noticed the sudden change over your attitude over the last few days. You were mopeyer and calling out of work just to vegetate on the sofa had set off alarm bells for her.

“I’m okay, Lia. And I’m not going to cry either.” You answer her, being honest despite your eyes staying glossy with unshed tears; ones you won’t let fall. Reaching out, you grabbed one of the candies at the top of the pile. “And you don’t need to beat anyone up, I did this to myself. So, I just need to lick my wounds for a bit before continuing to trek on.”

“Normally when someone says they need to lick their wounds or that they did it to themselves, someone else is still typically involved.” She pointed out, making you sigh and drop the candy onto your lap. “You were seeing someone weren’t you?”

“Not really. I mean, I wasn’t actually seeing him. It didn’t move out of the talking stage,” You tell her honestly, giving her only the surface, and not the messier detail underneath. That Wonwoo was also your coworker and the reason you were avoiding work, “It’s my fault for thinking that this was going to be anything more than sending each other nudes, sexting, and the phone sex.”

“What a fucking dick. All that and he didn’t even meet up with you?” Amelia gasped in disgust, turning her attention to grab something from the snack pile.

“No, he wasn’t even in the country when this was all going on. He was gone on some business trip type deal.” This makes her snap her attention back toward you. Her brows were furrowed, and she had a curious expression on her face. “He started acting weird last week, not really answering me like he did and made up excuses why. He made me think he was still gone too, when he came home a few days ago.”

“That’s not a dick. That’s a fucking shitty asshole.” Her back hit against the sofa’s backrest as she sat back, opening the wrapper of her sweet with her teeth, “How did you even find out he was home? Another girl’s post?”

“I know his roommate,” You conveniently leave out that his roommate was also a coworker and your manager. “It was his roommate who told me he was back, and from how little he was talking to me. I got the hint.” Amelia went to say something, but you cut her off, “And we can’t use the notion that he might be jetlagged, or anything like that. He went out the same fucking night he got home.”

“Okay, no. There is someone that needs to be beat up. Tell me where he works, and I will show up and punch his lights out.” You had to grab the younger woman’s arm to stop her from hunting down and beating up Wonwoo. Amelia was a scraper, always ready to throw hands if needed, but this was not something you wanted her to do or felt like it was warranted. “What?”

“He’s not worth the energy, or possibly getting kicked out of the country. Don’t worry about it, please. I got into this against my better judgement, so really it’s my fault too.” You tell her, giving her a sad smile and had to cut her off again when she went to argue, “How about? Instead of wanting to resort to violence, you help me with this pile of snacks you got me, and watch a movie with me? Be a friend?”

“Beating up undeserving men is my love language.” Amelia quipped before settling back into her seat, “And I have a lot to make up to you. I was a shitty roommate, and how I treated you when it came to Tae was uncalled for. I’ll murder to make it up to you.”

“Just… don’t get back with him and we will be good. No need to beat or murder anyone.”

“Oh, trust me, I am done with him. Jisung practically bent me in half that night and made me cum so hard that I forgot my own name for a minute. My guts are still trying rearrange themselves back.” A smile appeared to her face before dropping her head onto your shoulder. It was the comfort that you needed right then. “What movie do you want to watch? Want to order some pizza, too?”

You spent the rest of the afternoon hanging out, pigging out on snacks and pizza, and laughing with Amelia until she had to leave for her evening shift. Leaving you to have the apartment ton yourself for the evening. Switching to your music app, you chose a random playlist and hit play.

Manchild by Sabrina Carpenter started to fill the apartment as you started to clean up the mess that you and Amelia had made. Packaging up the leftover pizza to put away and found places for all the unopened snacks and drinks in your small, shared kitchen. It helped keep your mind off of work the next day and that you were going to have to face Wonwoo after everything that happened over the last few weeks.

Talking with Amelia did help you build some of your resolve with him though, and you felt like you had given yourself enough time to ‘get over’ this stupid situationship that you had found yourself in. You didn’t get passed the talking stage, you didn’t date him, you didn’t sleep with him, so you should be able to get through this no issue.

You can pretend that he had seen photos of your most intimate areas, or that you know how he sounds when he cums. You didn’t do anything physically with him, so you should be good. At least that’s what you were telling yourself.

Coming back in from taking out the trash, you decided that turning in early for the night sounded like a good idea. That and you didn’t have the motivation to do anything that warranted staying awake anyways. Locked the apartment door, making sure the deadbolt was left unlatched so Amelia could easily get in after work, turned off the television and grabbed your phone from the coffee table.

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturbed earlier in the day, not wanting to be bothered while you wallowed,  so you were met with several notifications from over the last few hours.

App notifications, messages from family, a couple of friends, Mingyu checking on you. There was also missed called and more messages from Wonwoo. The latest one starting with your name instead of Dreamer.

Asshole: please talk to me…

There was more to this message, there was more messages than that, but the preview was cut off, and you didn’t bother to open the thread. It would show him that you read his messages, probably trying to justify his actions, and you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction. It was all about saving face at this point.

You didn’t expect him to come right to you when he got home, you didn’t expect him to drop everything  just for you, but you were under the impression that he would at least tell you that he was coming home early. That and the way his responses had gone from thought out and full of interest, even when he was busy with the tournament and team stuff, to empty promises to call, barely any responses, and the uncomfortable feeling that he was brushing you off.

So it didn’t actually feel like you were jumping to any conclusions with assuming the worst.

You close your phone, not bothering to take it off Do Not Disturb, and slipped into your bed. Hoping that the comfortable mattress and soft bedding engulf you and help you have a full night’s sleep.

Only for you to stare straight at the wall.

Thinking about what you could have done to make him do this to you.  

“Do I have any appointments soon? It’s not accepting my password,” Wonwoo asked walking up to the counter, his eyes on you instead of the tablet he had sat on the counter, but you wouldn’t look in his direction. Instead you continued setting up a member profile for a new client Mingyu had been showing around, ignoring him while he shifted his weight from one foot to another. His usual confident tease gone, and what was left was a nervously timid man from your unnerving cold shoulder. “I tried to reset it, even tried to restart the tablet but no success. You reactivated my account, right?”

“Doyoung, can you check his tablet and his account?” You didn’t look away from the screen as you spoke to the employee next to you. Doyoung looked over to you and then to Wonwoo with mild confusion, picking up the sudden tense atmosphere, before reaching for the tablet. “If you can’t get him in, then go grab Mingyu’s from his office. He’ll be logged into the schedules.”

Wonwoo handed over the tablet, but his eyes stayed on you. There was an uncomfortable silence between the three of you, thick of tension, and not once did you look toward, or barely acknowledged him. The younger man kept nervously looking between the two of you as he tried to figure out how to even work the tablet.

“I am going to go grab Mr. Mingyu’s tablet.” He finally spoke after a very long few minutes and hurried toward the back office before you could stop him. The part with grabbing Mingyu’s tablet was meant to more for Wonwoo to go get it, not him.

It left you and Wonwoo up at the front desk. With his gaze still on you while yours stayed on the computer screen.

“Dreamer…” Wonwoo began to spoke, but you cut him off before he could say more.

“You know, for someone who is supposedly really good at technology, games, and your friend’s go to IT. You seriously suck at getting your shit to work here.” You snap at him, pushing your glasses up that had slid down the bridge of your nose. “Doyoung is getting you Mingyu’s tablet, something you should have thought of first. So, if you could please leave me alone so I can do my job, that would be wonderful.”

You took the chance to look at him from the corner of your eyes, and before moving them back to the screen. His hair was pushed back and under a beanie, giving you a better view of his handsome, still very punchable, face. Sharp eyes narrowing behind his glasses and his jaw suddenly clenched.

Taking a deep inhale through his nose, like he was trying to calm himself, before speaking your name. You didn’t expect for your eyes to suddenly sting with tears, your throat tightening, and your chest ache when you heard it leave his lips.

“Can we talk, please? Let me take you to lunch today. Please,” He tried to keep his voice steady as he asked this, trying to not sound annoyed or pathetic. This time you finally looked at him, your glasses falling down the bridge of your nose once more at the movement, “Let me explain.”

“Nothing to explain,” You tell him, hoping that your own voice didn’t give anything away as you rejected his offer by going back to the computer. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finished the profile in two more clicks before standing. Again from the corner of your eye, you could see that Wonwoo was trying to not show his frustration with you refusing to listen to him. As well as have the audacity of looking hurt. “Hope you had your fun with your little tournament, and playing with my emotions. Doyoung will be back shortly with your tablet, I’m going to break. Welcome to our new normal.”

You didn’t give him the chance to respond, instead just turning and heading toward the back for your break. His stare beating into your back, and you didn’t chance the glance back toward him. Worried that if you looked at him, you might actually break and the tears brimming in your eye start to fall.

You told yourself that morning that you weren’t going to give him that. You weren’t going to give him your energy, your patience, nor your tears. You couldn’t let yourself give anything to him, especially while at work.

“Why are you hiding in here?” Mingyu asked, coming into the office a few minutes later to gather his things for the day since he was only there for a few hours that morning and had cleared the rest of his day to spend it with his girlfriend. He wasn’t expecting to find you sitting in a corner of the small room, scrolling aimlessly through your phone. “Break?”

You didn’t answer him, just gave a nod, and not bothering to hide the frown on your face or that you wanted to be left alone. Mingyu instantly picked up the shift in your mood, but he didn’t quite pick up that you wanted him to leave you alone. Instead he stood there, watching you, his own frown playing over his features.

He didn’t even need to ask what was bothering you either. He knew right away.

“We talked about this,” He said calmly, crossing his arms, but you wouldn’t look in his direction. Just continued to scroll and swallowed back the emotions swimming inside. You were listening, and you were doing what he wanted. You were leaving Wonwoo alone, but with the lack of reaction from you, it frustrated the taller man, “Do I need to send you home?”

“What? Why?” You ask, standing from your place on the floor, finally giving him your full attention. The question took you off guard, as did the look on Mingyu’s face. Hardened, brows furrowed, and the frown only seeming to be amplified. “I am doing as you asked! I am leaving him alone.”

“I don’t know what is going on with you right now, but it’s very clear that you two cannot be around each other,” Mingyu answered, gesturing toward the office door and out into the gym. Where Wonwoo was out working. “Doyoung came to me regarding what happened at the front desk, asking if this is a typical thing between you two. That is was uncomfortable being around you.

When I asked you to not give him a hard time, I meant all around! If you can’t listen, then I am going to have to start scheduling you so that you aren’t working together.” Unraveling his crossed arms, he pushed his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“I didn’t do anything though! I was filling out the profile for that new client, and I couldn’t stop what I was doing to baby him because he can’t ever get that tablet to work!” You argued back, with panic starting to set in. It was like someone was closing their hand around your neck, your heart slamming against your ribs, and tears starting to sting your eyes once more. You didn’t want to be sent home, when you were doing as he asked, “For a man who is good at technology and some big fucking gamer, he is shit at working that tablet. It’s not my fault that he’s an idiot!”

“Stop with the cussing and name calling, alright?!” Mingyu yelled, slamming his hand onto the desk, and you flinched at it. In the time you worked there, never once had he ever raised his voice like that. Not even when he was beyond frustrated with the two of you. “You know what, go home. I’ll call Hana to come finish your shift or finish it myself.”

“You’re joking…” You couldn’t hide the way your voice was starting to tremble, your whole body vibrating and shaking. This wasn’t happening. “You’re…you’re really going to send me home?”

“Yes, I am sending you home.” He then let out a frustrated sigh, and when he spoke again, his voice was lower. Fighting himself to calm down. “I don’t know what is going on with you two, it’s worse than before he left. I thought that… you know what never mind. Whatever it is between you guys, it’s not my business until it starts to cause problems at work. At my gym. Take the day to get your head back on right, and we can start fresh again tomorrow.”

You just stood there, staring at him as the tears finally started to fall. Unable to hold them back anymore. You just kept losing this pathetic game between you and Wonwoo, now you were learning just what losing really meant. You felt like you were suffocating.

Even if you told him what Wonwoo did, what made you think that Mingyu would actually side with you? Wonwoo was his best friend, his roommate, and you… you were just some stupid girl who played with fire and got burnt.

Seeing your tears, the expression on Mingyu’s face shifted to one of concern. Was he being too hard on you? He started to say your name in a softer tone, realizing that there was something more to all this. Something Wonwoo didn’t tell him. You didn’t know that Mingyu had known about what happened while the other man was gone, but there was something missing from what Wonwoo had told him.

“Maybe you should talk to him about it. Since it doesn’t matter what I have to say or feel,” You tell him moving to the timeclock to punch out for the day. Tears nearly blinding you to the point you had to retype in your employee number and ruining the little make up you had been wearing, “See you tomorrow, I guess.”

You heard him call your name, but you were already charging out of the office, right passed Wonwoo who was helping with a client with their workout machine. His eyes snapping right to you, surprise and worry gracing his features, but you wouldn’t…couldn’t look his way. It was already embarrassing that everyone could see that you were crying as you grabbed your purse from the front desk.

“Noona…” Doyoung went to question if you were alright, but you didn’t give him that chance. Charging out of the gym’s front entrance, a sob ripped through you as you gasp at the outdoor air.

Your mind was racing, the hurt that you were holding back was now spilling through. Your heart was aching, your head was pounding, and you felt like the world was shifting on its axis. Breaking into a run, you ran right to your car to get out of the sight of people staring at you as they passed by.

Slamming the door shut, you screamed into your steering wheel before speeding out the of the parking lot.

“Wonwoo!” Mingyu’s voice boomed through the gym, standing at the office door. Wonwoo pulled his gaze from the doors you just ran out of toward his roommate. “My office. Now.”

I can't believe this fic is almost done, with only one chapter left. I love that I got to revisit these two and got to share it with you all. Reblogs, and comments are more than encouraged! Reblogs are what help make this site what it is. Reblogs and comments also make my day and makes me feel I am doing something half right. lol

Please be sure on the look out for next part.

[eclipsaria]

Can I request you write another Junhui story. I wrote this a while ago but never finished it and I can’t really write it out properly

Junhui died centuries ago but he’s still tied to the old family manor you just inherited he can appear and talk and even move things but he can’t leave and you can’t touch him without breaking something somehow you find a way to bend the magic enough to be together at least for a little while

+ Srry I think I sent the last thing anonymously but I asked about the Junhui story

《 Utopia 》

Summary : In Chinese tradition, a ghost marriage, aka spirit marriage,refers to a marriage in which one or both parties are deceased.

⤷ no warnings

Non-idol ghost & romance au ♡ SVT Jun x female reader ♡ 13+ SFW ♡ 6,894 words

⤷ This might be the second part of Bloodline: 0 so if you have read it yet and you are okay with uncomfortable subjects, please read it before reading this fic for more understanding😅 but it also can be a standalone fic, so no worries if you dont want to read the trigger parts in Bloodline: 0🥰

⤷ this is queued during January

* main masterlist * SEVENTEEN masterlist * taglist *

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Burnout didn't arrive all at once. It crept in slowly, like extra hours that turned into sleepless nights, meals skipped without notice, days blurring into one another until even weekends stopped feeling real.

So when your boss finally called you into his office and told you to take a full week off to make up for every hour of overtime you'd accumulated, you didn't protest. For the first time in a long while, you felt relief instead of guilt.

A week of rest. No deadlines or emails.

Rather than returning to your empty apartment, you found yourself turning the steering wheel toward your parents' home. It had been years since you'd truly stayed there, not just visited for a meal or a holiday. The thought of familiar roads, quiet nights, and the steady presence of family felt grounding, it feels like returning to something you'd almost forgotten you needed.

The drive was peaceful. Fields and houses passed by in a blur, the sky slowly shifting into warm evening colors. When you finally parked in the driveway, the house looked exactly as you remembered.

Inside, your parents greeted you with soft scolding and warm smiles, immediately fussing over how tired you looked. Your mother ushered you toward your room, insisting you change into something comfortable before dinner.

You complied without complaint.

When you stepped back into the living room, relaxed and barefoot, something unfamiliar caught your attention.

A spirit altar cabinet stood quietly against the wall.

It hadn't been there before.

You slowed, eyes lingering on the polished wood, the faint curl of incense smoke rising as if the cabinet itself was breathing. A strange feeling brushed against your chest. Nostalgia mixed with something heavier, something you couldn't name.

"Since when did we have that?" you asked.

Your parents exchanged a look. For a moment, neither of them spoke, until your father let out a small sigh, as if remembering something long overdue.

"That's your ancestor," he said. Then, after a brief pause, he added, "Ah… speaking of ancestors, my brother reminded me to tell you something."

He looked at you carefully before continuing.

"Remember that manor we showed you before you got your job?"

You frowned slightly, memory surfacing. "Yeah… it's not quite far from here. But it always felt creepy. The trees around it are completely overgrown."

"Well," your father said, crossing his arms, "my brother said that whenever you want to get married, you should use that manor. We can clean it up. At least you wouldn't need to buy another house. It's spacious enough to host a party, or to raise your own family.

You thought about it, unease settling in your chest. The image of the manor flashed in your mind: silent halls, tangled branches, windows that looked like unblinking eyes.

"It'd cost a lot to clean that place, wouldn't it?" you asked, frowning.

Your father scoffed lightly. "If we were poor, we'd have sold it long ago."

You sighed. "Fine. Just find a group to clean it up. I'll visit there tomorrow."

With that, you turned away, but your gaze drifted back to the spirit altar cabinet one last time. For a brief second, you felt as if someone was watching you from within.

Shaking the feeling off, you headed to the dining table and began eating.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next morning arrived quietly, sunlight slipping through the curtains far earlier than you would have liked. You were still half-awake when your father knocked on the door, his voice carrying an unusual brightness.

"Get ready," he said. "Both sides of the family are already on their way."

You blinked. "Both… sides?"

"Yes. My whole family, and your mother's too. If we're cleaning that manor, we might as well do it properly."

By the time you'd washed up and grabbed a quick breakfast, the house was buzzing with messages and phone calls. Cars were already lining up near the old road leading to the manor. True to his word, your father didn't exaggerate, relatives you hadn't seen in years had gathered, sleeves rolled up, laughter and chatter filling the air.

You drove ahead, leading the small convoy down the narrow road. As the manor finally came into view, half-hidden by overgrown trees and tangled vines, the atmosphere shifted. Even with so many people present, the place still felt isolated, like it existed slightly apart from the world.

Everyone parked nearby and got out. The moment your feet touched the ground, the smell of damp earth and old leaves filled your lungs. While your parents and relatives immediately began discussing plans, you found yourself drifting toward the manor itself.

"I'll take a look inside first," you called back.

No one objected.

The front door creaked loudly as you pushed it open. Dust danced in the shafts of light that slipped through the tall windows, and cobwebs clung to the corners of the ceiling like forgotten lace. The furniture inside was unmistakably old-fashioned. Dark wood, carved edges, and designs you'd only ever seen in photographs or museums.

One of your uncles stepped in behind you, glancing around with interest.

"You know," he said casually, running a hand over a table, "these could sell for quite a high price. Antique furniture like this is rare. You could replace everything with whatever style you like."

You hummed in response, only half-listening. Your attention had already wandered deeper into the manor, your footsteps soft against the dusty floor as you moved from room to room.

Without realizing it, you found yourself at the foot of the staircase. Drawn by quiet curiosity, you ascended slowly. Each step groaned beneath your weight, the sound echoing unnaturally loud in the empty space. By the time you reached the second floor, the voices from outside had faded into a distant murmur.

You walked down the hallway, lined with closed doors and tall windows clouded with grime.

Then suddenly, silence. You stopped.

The noise from below had completely disappeared, as if the manor itself had swallowed it whole. The air felt heavier here, colder against your skin. When you turned to look back, the staircase behind you seemed longer than it had before, shadows stretching unnaturally along the walls.

You were alone in the hallway.

The silence pressed in on you, thick and unmoving. You took a hesitant step forward, the sound of your footfall swallowed almost instantly by the hallway.

Maybe they just moved farther away, you told yourself.

"Ah! You're finally here!"

The voice rang out brightly, far too close.

You gasped, spinning around so fast your heart nearly leapt out of your chest. Your back hit the wall, dust puffing into the air as your breath came in sharp, uneven bursts.

Standing a few steps away from you was a man. No… he looked solid at first glance, dressed neatly in clothes that didn't belong to any modern era. His hair fell loosely around his face, eyes bright with unmistakable excitement. What made your blood run cold was not his appearance, but the way the light passed ever so slightly through him, like he didn't fully belong in the space he occupied.

You stared, mind blank, fear rooting you in place.

"Woah- hey, hey, sorry!" he said quickly, hands raised. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just got excited."

Your mouth opened. Closed… and opened back again.

"…You-" Your voice came out hoarse. "Who are you?"

His eyes lit up even more, as if he'd been waiting for that exact question.

"Oh! Right. Introductions." He straightened, smoothing down his sleeves out of habit, then gave you a small bow politely, almost old-fashioned.

"My name is Wen Junhui."

The name echoed strangely in your ears.

You swallowed hard. "You're… not supposed to exist."

He blinked, then laughed softly. "That's usually what people say."

Your legs finally remembered how to move, and you took a cautious step back. "You're a spirit."

"Mm," he hummed, nodding easily. "Have been for a long time."

Your heart was still pounding, but his warm and cheerful tone didn't match the terror clawing at your chest. He didn't feel angry, or hostile. If anything… he seemed relieved.

"I was worried you wouldn't come inside," Junhui continued, rocking slightly on his heels.

Your breath caught. "What?"

Junhui glanced at you carefully now, enthusiasm dimmed by something gentler, something like fond recognition.

"It's just," he said quietly, "I've been waiting for you."

The way he looked at you changed. The brightness in Junhui's eyes softened, enthusiasm folding into something quieter yet older. He took a step closer, careful this time, as if he were afraid even his presence might shatter you.

"I guess… I should explain," he said. "At least a little."

You shook your head slowly, heart racing. "No. You shouldn't. I- this isn't real."

He hesitated, then spoke anyway, voice low.

"You and I knew each other. Long ago."

The hallway seemed to tilt.

"You were a queen," he continued gently. "Not just in title. You ruled with kindness, too much kindness, some said." A faint smile tugged at his lips, bittersweet. "And I was an assassin. One assigned to end your husband from the shadows."

Your ears rang. His words blurred together, slipping past your understanding like water through your fingers.

"We weren't supposed to fall in love," Junhui said. "But we did."

The manor creaked. The air grew heavy, pressing down on your chest. His voice felt distant now, as though it were coming from the end of a long tunnel.

"I won't say more," he added quickly, almost apologetically. "I just needed you to know that much."

You stared at him, breath shallow, mind scrambling for logic.

A queen. An assassin. Spirits. This isn't happening.

Your vision swam. Heat bloomed under your skin, your forehead suddenly damp with sweat.

"I think-" you whispered, pressing a hand to your temple. "I think I have a fever."

Junhui's expression shifted instantly to alarm. "Wait- no, you're not sick. This always happens at first-"

Your legs gave out.

The hallway spun violently, walls stretching and bending as darkness crept in from the edges of your sight. The last thing you saw was Junhui rushing toward you, his form flickering as if reality itself couldn't decide whether he belonged.

"Hey- stay with me!" His voice cracked for the first time.

As consciousness slipped away, you heard him calling out desperately, but it's not your name, but another.

A name that felt unfamiliar.

Then everything went black.

Voices broke through the darkness first. Your name was called again and again, hands shaking your shoulders as panic threaded through familiar voices. Someone said you'd collapsed upstairs. Someone else blamed the dust, the old air, the heat. By the time your eyes fluttered open for even a second, you were already being lifted, carried down the stairs you didn't remember descending.

Junhui was gone.

The manor blurred past you, then disappeared entirely.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You dreamed of him. He stood in a wide and empty hall washed in moonlight, expression unusually serious.

"You have to come back tomorrow," he said quietly.

Your feet wouldn't move, no matter how hard you tried.

"I'll explain everything then," Junhui continued. "Why I'm still here and why I couldn't leave."

The light around him flickered, shadows pulling at his form.

"But please," he added, voice softening, "come back."

When he reached out, darkness swallowed you whole, causing you to wake up.

Night had already fallen. Moonlight spilled through your bedroom window, casting pale patterns across the floor. For a moment, you daydream.

The house was quiet.

Your throat felt dry.

Carefully, you got out of bed and made your way downstairs. The kitchen light flicked on with a soft click, and you poured yourself a glass of water, hands trembling slightly as you drank.

On your way back, something caught your eye.

The spirit altar cabinet.

It stood exactly where it always had. Drawn by an impulse you couldn't explain, you stepped closer. The name plaque rested neatly at the center, ink dark and unwavering despite its age. You read it aloud, voice barely above a whisper.

"Wen Junhui… Lee Y/N…"

The glass slipped slightly in your hand. Your breath hitched.

That name. It was the same one Junhui had called out, voice frantic, as consciousness left you in the manor hallway. The same unfamiliar name that had echoed in your dreams. And yet, it wasn't unfamiliar at all.

It was your name… all except the surname.

The realization settled heavily in your chest, cold and undeniable.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next day, despite the fear coiling tightly in your chest, you drove back to the manor alone. The road felt longer this time. The trees leaning inward as if whispering secrets to one another. When you parked and stepped out, the air immediately changed. It's carrying the same chilling stillness that had unsettled you before.

You swallowed and pushed the door open. The manor greeted you with silence.

"Y/N! You're here!"

Your breath caught. You spun around, heart slamming painfully against your ribs, eyes searching frantically through the dim interior.

"Junhui?" Your voice wavered.

A soft glow flickered near the far end of the room, and slowly, he revealed himself. He looked just as you remembered, familiar now in the most unsettling way, standing there with a smile that held both relief and joy.

You took a step back, fear threatening to overwhelm you again.

"S-so…" you stammered, clutching your hands together. "Why me…?"

Junhui tilted his head, studying you for a moment before floating toward the old sofa couch. Dust stirred as he settled into it, his form barely disturbing the fabric.

"You can sit on the floor if you don't like dust on your pants," he said lightly.

You hesitated, then sat down across from him, the cold seeping through the fabric of your clothes as you waited for his explanation.

"To be honest," he began, voice quieter now, "I think I'm still here because I lost you."

Your chest tightened.

"Well… to be exact," he continued, gaze lowering, "I lost my way while trying to find you after you died in my time. The child you carried didn't survive either."

Your breath faltered, the weight of his words pressing down on you even though they didn't fully feel like your own memories.

"And because I lost my way," Junhui said, "I never knew you had reincarnated. I think I stayed because I missed you." He looked up again, smiling softly. "But seeing you now, living well in this life, I'm happy for you."

The silence stretched.

"But you're also unhappy," you said slowly, carefully, "because I'm living happily without you. Living happily without remembering you."

His smile faded.

"…Maybe that's the case."

Your throat felt tight. "Did you… not find any other female ghost to love?"

He didn't even hesitate.

"My loyalty has always been with you."

"Even if my love for you is gone?" you asked quietly.

He truly looked at you with an expression filled with centuries of longing.

"Loyalty for love," Junhui said softly, "has always been a form of suffering."

The manor creaked gently around you, as if acknowledging the truth of his words.

The manor seemed to hold its breath.

You stared at the dusty floor, thoughts tangled, heart heavier than you expected. Junhui didn't rush you. For the first time since you'd met him, he simply waited patiently, as though he had already accepted whatever answer you might give.

Then you spoke.

"Maybe…" Your voice was quiet, almost hesitant. "Maybe I can stay here for a few days?"

Junhui looked up.

"Make you feel loved," you continued, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. "Maybe that's what you need to finally leave this place. To reincarnate freely." You swallowed. "You know… like a couple."

His expression froze.

"Like married husband and wife," you added, searching for the right words, "who don't care about titles or war?"

The silence returned, heavier than before.

"…Like that?" you murmured, half-questioning yourself. Then, with a small nod, you answered anyway. "Yeah."

For a heartbeat, Junhui didn't move.

Then his face lit up, brighter than you'd seen yet, joy breaking through centuries of restraint.

"Yeah," he said, voice warm with hope. "Maybe that is the way."

He stood, floating closer, and extended his hand toward you with a boyish grin.

"Then it all comes down to you."

Despite the fear still fluttering in your chest, you smiled back. Slowly and carefully, you reached out.

Your hand passed straight through his. Nothing but cold air brushed against your skin.

"Oh…" Junhui exclaimed softly, his smile faltering.

You lowered your hand, staring at your palm for a moment before letting out a quiet, almost sad breath.

"I guess," you said gently, "it's a married husband and wife… with no physical contact."

Junhui chuckled weakly, rubbing the back of his neck out of habit.

"I've waited this long," he said, eyes softening again. "I think I can manage that."

The manor creaked softly, candle flames flickering in agreement.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The next day, you left the house as if nothing had changed.

You didn't tell your parents about meeting your ancestor. Not about the ghost in the manor, not about the name you shared, and certainly not about the promise you'd made. Some things felt too fragile to speak aloud, like they might shatter the moment they were explained.

You arrived at the manor at the same hour as the day before.

The air shifted the instant you stepped inside, that familiar chill wrapping around you like a quiet greeting.

"You're on time," Junhui's voice chimed, light and pleased.

For the first day, fourth day into your week-long break, you and Junhui decided to simply talk. No heavy truths or past lives, just each other.

He told you about his hobbies from long ago: how he used to carve small wooden animals in secret, how he'd watch street performers from rooftops instead of sleeping, how he liked listening to rain because it reminded him that even the loudest world could fall silent.

You told him about your job—about endless meetings, strict deadlines, and how tired you always felt but never said out loud. You talked about coffee becoming a necessity instead of a treat, about commuting traffic, about days that felt productive and nights that felt empty.

At one point, he tilted his head and asked, "What's your favorite food?"

You blinked, surprised by the simplicity of it. "Spicy noodles," you answered after a moment. "The kind that makes your nose run and your eyes water. It feels… real."

Junhui laughed. "You haven't changed."

You frowned. "I don't remember changing."

"My favorite," he said thoughtfully, "was steamed buns. Plain ones. I didn't get to eat them often."

You asked him what fear felt like in his time. He asked you what happiness meant in yours.

You asked why he smiled so easily. He said it was easier than remembering.

You asked him what love meant back then. He asked you if love still survived now.

Hours passed without either of you noticing.

Your phone lay forgotten in your bag, untouched the entire day. The sun shifted through dusty windows, shadows stretching and retreating, but neither of you moved. All you did was talk. Stories overlapping, and laughter echoing softly through the manor's empty halls.

By the time evening crept in, it felt as though you'd known him far longer than a single day.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The fifth day of your break arrived quietly.

Before leaving the house, you stopped by a small shop near the road and bought plain steamed buns wrapped neatly in thin paper. As you held the bag on the drive to the manor, you kept reminding yourself of one thing.

He is a ghost, but yet, your heart didn't listen.

When you stepped inside the manor, the familiar chill greeted you again almost welcoming.

"You're early," Junhui said, appearing near the window. His eyes immediately dropped to the bag in your hands. "What's that?"

You lifted it slightly. "Breakfast."

"For… me?" he asked, almost incredulous.

You nodded. "You said you liked steamed buns."

For a moment, he didn't move. Then his face broke into the widest smile you'd ever seen, something bright and boyish that didn't belong to a man who had died centuries ago.

"You remembered," he said softly.

When you placed the buns on the table, he leaned close, eyes closed, as if breathing in the warmth and scent. Though he couldn't eat them the way you could, his shoulders relaxed, expression peaceful, like the memory itself was nourishment enough.

"I love you," you said suddenly.

The words surprised even you. Junhui froze.

"…You said that so easily," he murmured.

"I'm acting like a wife today," you replied, forcing a small smile. "Even if I can't touch you."

He looked at you for a long moment before nodding. "Then… treat me like your husband."

You hesitated. "Then treat me how you treated me in your year."

Something shifted in his gaze, and so he did.

He walked beside you as you explored the manor, always a half-step behind, attentive and protective. When you sat on the floor to rest, he positioned himself between you and the open hallway, instinctively guarding you from threats that no longer existed.

When dust made you cough, he scolded you gently. "You should cover your mouth. You were always careless with your health."

When you complained about the cold, he murmured, "In my time, I would've wrapped my cloak around you."

At one point, you pretended to trip on the hem of your pants. Instinctively, he reached out, then stopped himself, hand hovering uselessly in the air.

"…Sorry," he said quietly.

"It's okay," you replied, even as your chest tightened. "I know."

Later, when you sat across from each other in silence, you rested your head against the arm of the sofa. He sat beside you, close enough that the air felt warmer there.

"You're really here," he whispered, almost afraid to say it aloud.

"I am," you answered.

He smiled at that, soft and full of devotion.

You kept telling yourself he was a ghost. You kept reminding yourself this wasn't real. But the way he listened to every word you said, the way he remembered things you never lived, the way he looked at you like you were his entire world… those things felt painfully real.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The sixth day came without announcement. You didn't wake up thinking today I'll act like a wife. You simply… did.

You arrived at the manor the same way you had the days before, carrying nothing special this time. Yet the moment you stepped inside, your first thought was whether Junhui had been waiting long. That realization alone made you pause at the doorway.

Since when did this stop being an act?

"You're here," Junhui said softly, appearing near the staircase.

The relief in his voice was unmistakable.

You smiled back before you even thought about it. "Mm… I am."

The words felt natural.

You spent the day the same way as always. Talking, wandering, sitting together in quiet corners of the manor. But something had shifted. You found yourself scolding him when he drifted too far into memories that hurt. You reminded him to rest, even though he didn't need sleep. You listened when he spoke, not because you were trying to comfort him, but because you wanted to know.

At some point, he noticed.

"You don't hesitate anymore," he said.

"Hesitate about what?"

"About me."

You didn't have an answer.

When he spoke about his past, you no longer felt like an outsider listening to someone else's tragedy. It felt… familiar. Like something you had misplaced rather than forgotten.

You laughed together over small things—his confusion about modern appliances, your disbelief at how casually he spoke of surviving assassinations. You sat across from him and complained about how tired your eyes felt from work, and he told you, seriously, that in his time he would've ordered you to rest.

"Order?" you repeated.

"Yes," he said calmly. "I worried about you even then."

That should've frightened you. Instead, your chest warmed.

At one point, you absentmindedly set a cup down in front of where he sat, only realizing a second later that he couldn't drink it. You froze, embarrassed.

"…Sorry."

Junhui smiled. "You did that without thinking."

You looked away. "I guess."

The truth was harder to say out loud.

You didn't remember the moment it started to feel real. There was no clear line between pretending and being. No sudden realization. Just a quiet shift, like stepping into a room and forgetting you'd ever been outside it.

Later, as evening light filtered through the dusty windows, you sat on the floor while Junhui leaned against the sofa, watching you.

"Do you regret it?" he asked suddenly.

"Regret what?"

"Staying."

You shook your head before your mind could catch up. "No."

The answer startled you.

Junhui's gaze softened, something fragile flickering behind his eyes.

You reminded yourself again, that he was a ghost, that this couldn't last, that this wasn't supposed to feel like home. But when you stood to leave that day, you caught yourself saying, "I'll come back tomorrow." because the thought of not coming hurt more than it should have.

And that was when you realized… you weren't pretending anymore.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The seventh day arrived far too quickly.

Morning light spilled across your room, illuminating the half-open suitcase on the floor. Clothes lay neatly folded beside it, ready to be packed, yet your hands wouldn't move. You stood there for a long time, phone resting heavily in your palm, staring at the empty space where your belongings were supposed to go.

You were supposed to return to your apartment today, to prepare for work tomorrow, to leave. Your thumb hovered over your boss's contact. You told yourself it was just exhaustion, that you needed a little more rest, that this had nothing to do with a ghost waiting in an old manor.

And yet… before you could overthink it, you pressed call.

When your boss answered, you heard yourself asking for two more days off. The excuse came easily—fatigue, travel, and needing to clear your head. After a pause, your boss agreed, reminding you to return refreshed.

You thanked him and ended the call.

The relief that washed over you felt too strong. You sat on the edge of the bed, phone slipping from your fingers.

I don't like him, you told yourself firmly.

Maybe it wasn't you at all. Maybe it was the woman you once were, the first lover inside you, that still loved him. Maybe that was why your chest tightened at the thought of leaving him alone in that manor again.

As you changed and grabbed your keys, a memory surfaced, your parents' voices telling a story long ago. A story about the past.

About how, in ancient times, during the Han dynasty, there were marriages between the living and the dead. They called it spirit marriage. A bond formed not by flesh, but by fate, by promises that refused to fade, even after death.

You'd laughed it off back then.

Now, driving down the familiar road toward the manor, trees blurring past your window, the thought refused to leave you.

What if this isn't just kindness? What if this isn't just comfort?

The manor came into view, standing silent as ever.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel. You didn't know what you were walking into anymore.

You spent the day at the manor as you always had.

Junhui noticed it first.

"You're distracted," he said as the afternoon light slanted through the windows.

"I might go back to work soon," you replied honestly.

He didn't smile this time, but he didn't stop you either. He only nodded, as if he had always known this day would come.

When evening arrived, you said goodbye the same way you always did softly, without promises you weren't sure you could keep. Then you drove back to your parents' home, heart heavier than when you'd left.

The moment you stepped inside, your parents froze.

"You're… still here?" your mother asked, clearly startled. "Aren't you supposed to be leaving today?"

"I need to talk to you," you said, voice steady despite the way your hands trembled.

They sat you down in the living room, concern etched into their faces. Your gaze drifted just once toward the spirit altar cabinet. Junhui's name rested there quietly, unchanged.

You took a deep breath and you told them everything. From the manor. From the ghost. From Wen Junhui. From the name Lee Y/N. From being a reincarnation. Seen him, spoken to him, lived beside him for days. About love that didn't feel like yours, and yet did.

When you finished, the room was utterly silent.

Your father was the first to speak, voice low. "Do you know what you're saying?"

"I do," you replied. "I want to stay beside him. I want to understand… spirit marriage."

Your parents exchanged a long look. Their hesitation wasn't disbelief, it was fear.

"It's not insane," your mother finally said. "What you're describing has existed before."

Your heart skipped.

"But it's irreversible," your father continued quietly. "That's why we're scared."

He gestured gently toward your hand.

"In a spirit marriage, the bond is sealed with a red string tied to the pinky finger. Once tied, the human and the spirit are bound for eternity. There is no divorce, no release, not even death ends it."

Your chest tightened, but you didn't look away.

"It follows the soul," your mother added. "Across lives."

You swallowed. "I know."

They stared at you, searching your face for hesitation.

They didn't find it.

Sighing, your parents began to explain.

Spirit marriage, they told you, dated back to the Han dynasty, sometimes earlier. It was performed when a bond between two souls was too strong to sever by death. The ritual didn't grant touch, nor a shared physical life. Instead, it promised companionship, protection, and remembrance.

The living offered devotion. The dead offered guidance. And both were bound by loyalty.

"It's why these marriages were rare," your father said softly. "Love that survives death… is heavy to carry."

You looked down at your pinky finger, imagining the red string.

"I don't know if I love him," you admitted. "But I know I can't leave him alone."

Your parents said nothing more.

That night, as you lay in bed, the weight of the choice pressed gently but firmly against your chest.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The eighth day began with a quiet resolve. You drove to the manor earlier than usual, the road already familiar beneath your tires. This time, your heart wasn't racing with uncertainty.

Junhui was waiting near the window when you entered.

"You look serious," he said gently.

"I told my parents," you replied.

He stilled.

"Everything," you added. "About you. About me. About spirit marriage."

The air seemed to grow colder with restraint.

Junhui looked away first.

"I know what spirit marriage is," he said quietly. "I've seen it before… in my time."

You nodded. "I thought you would."

"It's simple on the surface," he continued. "A ritual. A red string. A vow." He turned back to you, eyes dark. "But it lasts forever. You're still alive. You still have years, decades ahead of you."

"That's exactly why I'm telling you," you said. "Because it's my choice."

He shook his head slowly. "Why would you bind yourself to death?"

"Because you're not just death," you replied softly. "You're someone who waited."

Silence stretched between you.

"You lost me once," you continued. "You wandered because you couldn't find me. If I leave you again, knowing this, then that's something I won't forgive myself for."

Junhui clenched his fists. "You could love someone living."

"Maybe," you admitted. "But right now, I choose you."

He looked at you as if seeing you clearly for the first time… not as a queen, not as a memory, but as a living person making a conscious decision.

"You don't remember loving me," he said.

"No," you replied. "But I remember choosing you."

That broke him. Junhui laughed softly, a sound fragile and full of surrender. "You were always like this," he murmured. "Even back then."

He bowed his head. "If this is truly your will… then I will accept it."

Relief flooded you so suddenly your knees nearly gave out.

You stayed a while longer that day, talking quietly, speaking of ordinary things again, like food, work, and the weather—like two people delaying an inevitable parting.

When you returned home and told your parents the news, they were silent for a long time. Then your mother reached out and held your hand.

"If this is the path you choose," she said, voice tight with emotion, "we'll help you walk it."

Your father nodded reluctantly. "We'll find a suitable matchmaker."

You thanked them, heart full and aching all at once.

Later that night, alone in your room, you opened your laptop and began searching.

Jobs closer to the manor. Because if you were going to bind your life to a spirit, then you would live it nearby.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The ninth day arrived with a sense of finality you couldn't ignore.

Morning light filtered into your room as you packed your things properly this time. Clothes folded neatly into your suitcase. Laptop wrapped and tucked away. The small pieces of your life gathered together, ready to move again. Unlike the hesitation of days before, your hands moved steadily, calm, and deliberate.

You were returning to work tomorrow… at least, to end it.

Your phone rested beside you on the bed, screen dark but heavy with meaning. You sat for a moment before picking it up, thumb hovering over your boss's contact. You'd rehearsed the words in your head countless times, yet your chest still tightened when the call connected.

"Good morning," your boss said, sounding surprised. "Ready to come back already?"

"Yes," you replied. "But… I need to talk to you."

You explained slowly that you'd thought long and hard during your break, that something important had come up which you couldn't ignore. You didn't mention ghosts or manors or red strings. You only said that you needed to be honest about it now rather than later.

There was a long pause on the other end.

"So you're resigning," your boss said finally.

"Yes. I want to give early notice," you answered. "I don't want to leave things unfinished."

He sighed tiredly. "I won't pretend I'm not disappointed, but I respect that you're giving notice properly.

Relief loosened something in your chest.

They discussed timelines, handovers, and formalities. When the call ended, you stared at your phone for a long moment, then placed it face-down on the bed.

That chapter was closing.

You zipped your suitcase shut and carried it downstairs. Your parents watched quietly, emotions carefully masked. They didn't try to stop you. They only told you to take care, and reminded you that some choices, once made, must be walked with resolve.

Before leaving, your eyes drifted once more to the spirit altar cabinet. Wen Junhui's name rested there, unchanged.

"I'll be back," you whispered, not to the cabinet, but to the promise behind it.

As you stepped outside, the air felt different, lighter. As though the world itself knew you'd chosen a path that couldn't be reversed.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

A few months passed quietly, yet decisively. By the time your resignation was finalized, it felt less like an ending and more like a door gently closing behind you. You told your parents first. They listened, nodded, and accepted it without surprise, almost as if they had been preparing themselves for this moment all along.

You found a similar job not far from the manor, close enough that the road felt familiar even before you drove it daily. When everything was settled, you returned to your apartment one last time. You packed your life into boxes—books, clothes, small objects that carried no great meaning on their own, yet somehow weighed heavy in your hands.

You were moving into the manor.

Your parents told you it was ready. Over the months, relatives had helped clean it thoroughly. They said it was suitable now, and you thanked them more times than you could count.

On the day of the spirit marriage, you parked your car at your parents' home first. You greeted them quietly, shared a light meal, spoke about ordinary things. It felt intentional, as if you were anchoring yourself to the living world one last time before stepping into something else.

Then you dressed. The clothes prepared for you were simple but ceremonial. Traditional in cut, restrained in color, red details woven carefully into the fabric. Your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the sleeves, as if your body understood the gravity before your mind fully caught up.

When you were ready, your parents drove you to the manor. Cars already lined the road. Relatives from both sides were there, gathered quietly, voices hushed. No one laughed loudly. No one treated it lightly. This was not a spectacle, it was a vow.

Inside the manor, the main hall had been cleared and prepared. Red cloths were draped carefully, candles placed in pairs, incense arranged neatly at the altar. At the center stood a spirit tablet bearing Wen Junhui's name, polished and reverent.

The air was thick with incense smoke.

A matchmaker stood before the altar. She spoke softly, explaining each step, reminding everyone that this was not a union of flesh, but of souls.

The ceremony began with offerings.

You knelt before the altar as incense was lit, the smoke curling upward like a bridge between worlds. Food was laid out, steamed buns among them, alongside wine poured carefully into two cups. One for the living. One for the dead.

Your name was spoken aloud. His name followed.

The matchmaker recited words passed down through generations. Blessings for harmony, promises of companionship, wishes that neither soul would wander alone again.

You bowed first for the gods, second for your family, third time to each other. Each bow felt heavier than the last, not with fear, but with finality.

Then came the red string. Thin, vibrant, unbroken. It was gently tied around your pinky finger, the knot firm but careful. The other end was placed beside the spirit tablet, symbolizing Junhui's side of the bond, an unseen hand meeting yours across realms.

No applause followed or cheers, only silence, respectful and complete. In that silence, you felt it. Not a touch, but a presence. Not a voice, but warmth. As if someone had finally found their way back to you.

When the ceremony ended, the incense continued to burn, smoke rising steadily toward the ceiling of the manor that had waited centuries for this moment.

The manor fell quiet after the last car disappeared down the road.

Incense smoke thinned, candles burned low, and the weight of many presences slowly faded until it was just you, and the house that was now your home. You stood alone in the main hall, red string still tied gently around your pinky, heart beating steadily in your chest.

You walked through the rooms one by one.

The old darkness was gone. In its place were soft lights, clean floors, modern furniture chosen carefully to coexist with the manor's age. A sofa by the window. A dining table set simply. Curtains that let sunlight in without hiding the past.

It felt… lived in.

"Hey, wife."

You froze, then laughed softly as you turned.

"Hey, husband," you replied while giggling, like this was the most natural exchange in the world.

Junhui stood a few steps away, watching you with an expression you had never seen before.

Your smile faltered as emotion swelled in your chest. Slowly, almost fearfully, you lifted your hand. He didn't move nor flinch. He simply waited, eyes never leaving yours. You remembered all the times your hand had passed through him.

So you started small… just a finger. You moved it closer to his cheek, inch by inch, breath held tight in your lungs. And then, you touched him.

Not just air or emptiness.

A quiet sob broke free before you could stop it. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you pressed your finger there again, just to be sure. His skin was cold but solid. It felt so real. You cried out, laughter and tears tangled together, and this time you didn't hesitate. Your entire palm cupped his cheek, feeling the chill seep into your skin like proof of a miracle.

Junhui smiled. It was sad, full, and impossibly gentle. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you.

You felt him.

His body cool against yours, solid where he had never been before. You buried your face into his chest, gripping his clothes as if afraid the world might undo this if you let go.

"I love you…" he whispered, voice trembling. "…Y/F/N."

You held him tighter, red string warm between your fingers, heart pounding with the certainty of it all.

The manor stood silent around you, no longer a place of waiting, but of reunion. And at last, after lifetimes of loss and wandering, you were together.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘ Utopia 💋 ⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Taglist ♡ @stvrrylove @sol3chu @firstclassjaylee @ateez-atiny380 @reiofsuns2001 @thetjtales @metaphorandmoonlight @slytherinshua @sn4psh00t