Synopsis ✨ Your husband has always been a loveable idiot, rushing from one chaotic event to the other. But when your father, the King, sends him to the dungeons, it's you who deals with the consequences.
Genre ✨ established relationship, smut, fluff
Warnings ✨ plot? there's hardly any, Jeonghan is a fool but a loveable one, Seokmin is reader's brother and heir to the throne, that's about it really- there is literally next to no plot
Smut warnings ✨ Dom Jeonghan, sub reader, she's a little bratty but mainly just a down bad sub for her man, public groping (there's no body around but it's the chance that there might be), he has a filthy mouth, spanking, choking, nipple play, she rides him (but he's not inside- I can't think of the word for it, she just uses him basically), dumbification (just a little), rough sex, cream pie, multiple orgasms, after care, he's just a silly little guy who's a demon in the bedroom
Word count ✨ 5.7k
a/n: I've had this written for so long but I think I was ovulating or something, wrote it in a horny haze and then forgot it ever existed. So since my wips are pretty plot heavy, I've whipped up a header for whatever the hell this horny mess is.
This is the same universe as this Seokmin fic. Jeonghan is in it and it does give a good overview of what a gormless cutie he is, but it can absolutely be read as a stand alone.
As the second born child of the King and Queen, and because your older brother was heir, your life had been easy in most senses. Yes, you had to be respectful and set a good example to the people of your Kingdom, but you never had that sense of foreboding or responsibility that your brother did. Seokmin took it all in his stride of course, going out with your father to meet the people, hosting banquets with neighbouring lords and ladies and even agreeing to meet a neighbouring princess from another kingdom in a bid for them to marry and strengthen relationships between the two kingdoms. It didn’t work out though, Seokmin was in love with your best friend and you were all just patiently waiting for them to figure it out.
But because you didn’t have a goal, or a purpose, life had started to become a little dull. You have everything around you that you could dream of, the finest silks, a maid who has your bath ready every evening by the fire in your quarters and every meal in the castle is like the average festive feast for a normal person. And yet everyday just felt like it was blurring into one. Wake up, do what princess’ do and then go to bed. It was the same everyday and you didn’t see it getting better anytime soon.
However on your twenty first birthday, your boring, monotonous days were about to come to a grinding halt.
Your parents had told you that they’d gone all out for your birthday feast and there’d be hundreds of people descending upon the palace to celebrate this momentous occasion with you and your family. This, you thought, was both a blessing and a curse. The amount of guests would mean that you’d get to hear stories of far off lands, the battles people had fought and won, the wonders they had seen and you’d be in awe of them. They’d brighten up the normal dull conversations that you’d had a million times with the same handful of people in this castle. But at the same time hearing those stories made you feel even worse about your dreary little life. No, you don’t want to fight a dragon like the prince from the kingdom across the sea did, but you would like the option.
Sadly for you though, every guest at that party had an average age of about 91 years of age and their stories were as boring as your life. That is until you spotted someone frantically trying to explain that he’d brought marzipan from his parents as a gift for the princess and it wasn’t his fault that the baker didn’t like him, and that the marzipan was absolutely not meant to be shaped like a large pair of breasts. He was trying to explain that it’s the baker who should be put in the stocks and not him, he was just an unfortunate bystander in this whole debacle.
It was only when you got closer to the chaos that this man was creating, that you realised he was probably the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in this kingdom and the next. His hair was longer than you were used to seeing and his clothes, although simple, were perfectly designed and fitted to suit him. He introduced himself in a half assed manner and then panicked when he realised he’d done so to the princess, the very princess whose birthday party he was causing a scene at with his offensive baked goods. You’d laughed and argued that they were probably the finest marzipans you’d ever seen, adding that the cherries in the centre of each of them was a masterstroke of genius and therefore he’d been let off the hook and escaped the stocks.
But from that moment on, your life changed forever and you haven’t had a moment's peace since. Because marrying Prince Jeonghan was the greatest adventure you’d ever been on.
“I do not understand why you do these things Jeonghan!” The king exclaims as he takes a bite of his lamb, “That child has not stopped crying for a full two days! The Queen has had to have chamomile and wormwood on a rag on her forehead to soothe the constant headache! Why did you have it attached to the ground so it couldn’t be moved?!”
“I was thinking of the children’s safety! I didn’t want them to wobble off!”
You desperately try not to laugh at your father. Because he may be your loving father but he is also the king trying to get to the bottom of another of your husband’s escapades.
“Jeonghan!” Your mother grasps her cloth covered forehead dramatically, “sorry my love,” your father soothes her, “you see you imbecile, now you have made me upset my wife. I just need to know why you thought it was a good idea to make a rocking horse shaped like such a grotesque monster.”
“I didn’t.” Jeonghan looks confused, your father looking like he’s about three seconds away from banishing him from the kingdom.
“Now don’t get smart me with you strange lunatic,” you and your brother desperately hold back your fit of laughter whilst his wife is actively looking in the other direction, out of the window, so your parents won’t see her giggles, “that creature is like something from the depths of hell and you’ve carved it for the children’s playing quarters?!”
“It’s a shire horse.” Jeonghan frowns, producing a mangled piece of paper from his pocket, “see, a shire horse.” He points to the simple drawing and hands it to your father.
Your father stares at the rather good drawing of a shire horse, you know it’s good, you drew it, and then slowly raises his eyes to look at your husband.
“You think this,” he straightens the paper aggressively, making Jeonghan jump, “is in any way similar to the monstrosity that is currently causing my grandchildren nightmares. Tell me Jeonghan, what are you going to do when Seokmin’s son takes the throne and he’s still having nightmares about that rocking horse? Do you simply relish the constant threat of having rotten vegetables thrown at you?”
“N-no,” he desperately looks at you for help but you fear if you open your mouth, you’re going to finally fall on the floor laughing, “I’ll have a servant try to dislodge it from the floor.”
“How? You’ve had it bolted down Jeonghan! You are a complete and utter fool!”
“You said they needed a new rocking horse!” He tries to reason and at this point even the servants are fighting for their lives to not crack.
“YES BECAUSE YOU SAT ON THE LAST ONE AND BROKE IT JEONGHAN!” Your mother dramatically winces once again, “I am sorry my love.” He soothes again, “I’m tired of this, I’m having you put in the dungeons.”
“WHAT?!” He desperately turns to you, “tell him ______. You drew the shire horse, tell……”
“Do not bring my daughter into this you scoundrel! Her drawing is exemplary,” he smiles softly at you, looking fondly at your drawing, “In fact. Not only have you mentally scared my grandchildren and upset my wife, you’ve also disrespected my daughter in bastardising her dear little drawing. Two nights. In the dungeons. Off you go!”
Jeonghan looks at you all, hoping someone is going to stop this. It’s only been two weeks since he was last sent to the dungeon for the night, he can’t face it again, not this soon. But all he sees is betrayal before him. How could you all be so cruel when all he was trying to do was something nice for his daughters and nephew.
“If you don’t go willingly, I will get the guards to take you.” Your father says sternly.
“Fine.” He sighs sadly, trudging out of the dining hall, not sparing any of his supposed family a second glance.
“Hello dearest.” You grin through the bars of the dungeon door.
“You’ve purposefully taken an age to get down here.” He pouts from the little wooden stool in the corner of the stone dungeon.
“I had to help my mother to bed,” you shrug innocently.
You both know you’re lying. You had purposefully taken a long while to wander down to the dungeons to release your husband. Mainly because, like your mother, the children’s constant crying had also given you a slight headache earlier. But also, to put it bluntly, you’re horny.
Your husband may be a bumbling idiot who tries desperately to help or entertain and yet always falls spectacularly short, but the second you make it to your bed chambers? Well, he’s a totally different kettle of fish. It took a month or so after your wedding to truly find your groove, both of you having never laid with anyone before, but when he noticed just how much you enjoyed him taking charge and putting you in your place, it was clear you were made for each other.
If you were to talk to a physician about it, they’d probably say you like being treated the way your husband treats you in the bedroom because you want to leave your perfect little life every now and again. Where people simply agree with you and treat you like you’re this precious little jewel not to be broken. If you’re honest with yourself, you just like the way it feels when his hand connects with your ass and he uses you however he pleases.
“Let me out.” He walks over to the bars.
“Is that anyway to talk to a princess!” You frown, your stomach doing flips when you see him clench his jaw, annoyance now overtaking the poutiness.
“You’re not funny. Unlock this and let me out. Now.”
“You did cause quite a lot of trouble,” you ponder, noting how his hands are now gripping the bars so hard that his knuckles are turning white, “and I do risk my father finding out every time I break you out of this dungeon. I wouldn’t like him to find out I’ve been going behind his back.”
“This little game you’re playing, it won’t work. You push too far and you’ll get nothing you want.” He hisses through the bars.
“I’m the princess, I always get what I want.”
“Well.” He holds the bars that bit tighter, “see here’s your problem. We both know you’re already dripping because,” he smirks, “we both know you're desperate. And this is where I wonder if you can get your little head around what I’m going to say. You take much longer to unlock this fucking door and I won’t touch you. And if you don’t let me out, then I still don’t touch you and you have to go through the embarrassment of trying to touch yourself,” he sighs in fake sadness, “which we both know you’re fucking terrible at.”
Curse him.
“Maybe I just agree with my father that you’ve gone too far.” You shrug.
“Do you know what’s going too far? Changing into that nightgown and parading yourself around the castle knowing full well that it’s more or less see through. You relish other men looking at what’s mine? You think any of them would touch you the way I do? If you want other men, go and have them princess.”
“I don’t want other men,” you mumble, eyes fixed on his lips, “I want you.”
“Then open the fucking door _____!” He says through gritted teeth.
“O-okay,” you whisper quickly, your mind already heading to that warm soft subby space you love so much.
“Clever girl.” He smiles when you unlock the door after fumbling in your eagerness to see what he’s going to do.
He places a gentle kiss on your lips, ending it far too quickly in your opinion, and spins you round to land a harsh slap on your ass.
“Come on,” he has his hands on your shoulders as he guides you out of the dungeons and up the stone stairs to the back of the castle. “You’re so fucking annoying,” he mumbles into your neck as you both try to walk through the castle with his arms now wrapped round your waist.
It’s lucky everyone has gone to bed, even the kitchen maids have finished for the day, something you may have done on purpose when deciding just how long to make him suffer in the dungeons.
“It is quite grotesque,” you giggle at the memory of the rocking horse, though arch slightly when he pinches your nipple through the flimsy nightgown.
“I tried my best,” he grumbles, soft lips pecking your neck and causing you to stop in your tracks.
“Hey,” you turn around in his arms, “my love, I know you always try your best and I love you for that.”
“Even if I make a fool of myself? Even if your dad thinks I’m an idiot?”
“My dad does think you’re an idiot,” you grin at him, “but you’re his idiot. He’d fight a war if someone hurt you, you know?”
“You think?” He pouts, hands kneading your ass though you’re not sure he even realises he’s doing it.
“I know he would. When you went to visit your parents, he was quite bereft without you here to keep us all entertained.”
“Oh, so I’m nothing more than the court jester?”
“You know that’s not true,” you frown, “you infuriate him but you’re like a son to him. And I’m certain he knows you don’t actually stay in the dungeons, if he does then those guards are being very lax. They leave the keys hanging by the door every single time.”
“And yet you still took your fucking time to come and get me,” his eyes turn dark again now he’s got his worries out of the way, “it was all so you could show yourself off to anyone who may still be awake then?”
“It’s your favourite.” You look at Jeonghan in wonder, your pussy already dripping. You were dripping before you left your bed chamber if you’re honest with yourself.
“It doesn’t,” he spins you back around and attaches himself to your back again, his semi hard dick pressing into your ass, “mean that every servant and nobleperson alike gets to see you in it. Unless,” he plays with the lining off your sheer linen nightgown, “that’s what you wanted?”
He pulls your nightgown down as you walk together along the long stone corridor, lined with paintings of your ancestors, and exposes your naked breasts, making you gasp and yet clench around nothing. The cool air and sheer fabric had already hardened your nipples but now they were almost painful as the idea of someone spotting the king’s daughter being treated in such a way took hold. Jeonghan’s hands grope and grab at them as you finally near your living quarters, but he stops you before you reach the door, his lips sucking a harsh mark onto your neck and hands never leaving you, right in the large corridor where anyone could see you.
“This is what you wanted, you wanted anyone and everyone to see just how fucking pathetic my wife is? I bet if I lift this nightgown, there’ll already be a mess between your thighs.”
He chuckles evilly into your ear when you spread your legs a little, hoping his fingers would soon find their way to where you need them most.
“You’re so easy,” he smirks against your skin before he sucks another harsh mark onto your skin, “you want that? You want everyone to see me finger your desperate little cunt? Why don't we just invite everyone to watch how well I fuck you?”
You don’t answer him, just lean onto his chest when he tugs on your nipple particularly hard, just how he knows you like it.
“Answer me princess, do you want me to finger you here? Maybe if I treat you really well you’ll squirt all over the floor, how will we explain that to the servants?”
“Want,” you swallow, trying to collect yourself though you’re already breathless, “your dick. Bed.”
“Oh come on,” he sighs, slapping your left tit lightly and covering your mouth when you let out an airy moan, “use full sentences. Surely you can manage that? Princess?”
You loathe when he tries to get you to speak, he’s well aware your brain is currently caught between desperation and horny dumbness, the fact he’s still insisting on you speaking is just another way for him to show you who has the power here.
“I want,”
“Well done,” he coos.
“I want you to fuck me, i-in,” you moan when he purposely pinches your nipple to break up your sentence, “the bedchamber.”
“That’s nice dearest,” he moves away from you making you sway, and moves in front of you, eyes hungrily eating up your exposed breasts and blown out pupils, “but maybe I should make you wait,” he leans his shoulder against the door, arms folded and a smirk toying on his lips, “you know, how you made me wait?”
“No,” you whisper, not even pulling your nightgown up even though anyone could come wandering, “I’ll be so good for you. I promise.”
“Hmm,” he appraises you. “I don’t know.”
“Please, please Jeonghan,”
You’ve no idea who he’s trying to kid, you’re surprised his dick hasn’t broken out of his pants, it's that hard.
“Well I suppose so,” he rolls his eyes, like fucking you would be more of a hindrance than a pleasure. Something you know it’s not but fuck does him being like this make you even more desperate to please him.
“Thank you,” you move to sort out your night dress.
“Er, what are you doing? Leave that how it is, I didn’t say you could move it.”
Your arms drop to your side straight away, leaving your breasts exposed to him and awaiting what he wants you to do next.
What you don’t expect is for him to lunge forward, grab your neck and pull you the short distance towards him. His lips crash into yours in a fierce kiss that makes your knees almost give in. You got married six months after you first met him at your 21st birthday and, even after two children, you still get all giddy and tingly when you kiss him.
You shared your first kiss on the night of your birthday, much quicker than appropriate for a princess, but you knew he was the one for you. You were his the second you saw him almost crying over the lude marzipan and now his hand wrapped around your throat as his tongue dances with yours, just cements the fact that you will always be his.
“I love you,” he says against your lips, his thumb pressing just a little harder on your throat to just hammer it home.
“I love you too,” you rasp, your hand moving to rub his throbbing length through his pants.
“You’re always so badly behaved,” he taps your hand away from him, “get in there!” He points to the door, smirking to himself as you rush off, still exposed and your ass illuminated through your dress by the moonlight shimmering through the window.
There’s only one thing that could make this scene prettier Jeonghan thinks to himself. So before you pass the threshold he lands a hard slap on your ass, your moan bouncing off the stone walls and Jeonghan’s dick twitching in his pants when he sees the red mark it left behind.
“Shut the fuck up princess,” he says jokingly, his domiance breaking a little when he hears you giggling at his antics.
That break is gone as quick as it came though when you turn around and see him tearing his clothes off before the door has even slammed shut behind him.
Your eyes eat him up. To look at him you see a tall slender man but underneath the layers of undershirts, leather pants and long boots, is the body of an adonis. He's broad, broader than you think, and with a body that you know takes hours of training with your brother.
“Are you going to keep oggling me like I'm nothing but a piece of meat to you? Or are you going to take that fucking useless nightgown off?"
You don't need telling twice, your nightgown is off within a blink of an eye and your body exposed to the only man that's ever seen it. Thank god your parents threw that ridiculous party for you, if they hadn't you'd never be able to have this, to trust someone so much with your body, and your heart, like you do with Jeonghan.
He moves over to bed at his usual leisurely pace, not a care in the world that your thighs currently resemble a small waterfall, and lies down on the bed like he's about to have a nap.
All you can do is stand there awkwardly, your body covered in goosebumps from the breeze coming through the wooden shutters of the window, just waiting for what he wants you to do.
“Well come here then!" He says, like you should’ve known what he wanted you to do.
And you do. You rush over to him like he's bestowed the greatest honour upon you and throw your leg over him, taking his rock hard length into your hand and lining him up with your overly needy hole.
"Errrrr, what are you doing?”
"What?” You glance up at him wide eyed, his tip painfully close to where you need him.
"Did I say you could do that? You've hurt me _____, I don't think I'm ready to let you have your own way yet.”
How does he still remain so stoic when you can see he's already leaking? Your brain is panicking at the very thought of not having him inside you and yet he’s behaving like you're talking about which meat will be roasted for the next feast.
"N-no? But I thought…..”
"That's the problem isn't it. You need to stop doing that for now and just do what I want you to.”
“Ok," you whisper and place his length down on his stomach carefully, “can I sit down?"
“You may." He gestures to his thighs like he's offering you a throne.
"Thank you.” You sit down on his thighs, your head spinning from how close his dick is and how much you need it.
"Now. Take what you need.”
What?!
"What?”
"Don't say what, say pardon.”
"You're not my mother.”
You only realise you've answered him back when you utter the last word, your cheeks heat and tears well because you know nothing good will come from your smart ass remark.
"Oh princess,” he says in mock sadness, "there goes that brain again.” He pinches your nipples, making you whine, twisting them angrily before he releases them.
"I'll let that go. Isn't it lucky you married such a kind husband?”
You nod quickly, your fingers itching to touch him.
"Now. Take what you need.”
He says it again but you're still none the wiser as to what the fuck he needs. He knows what you need, you told him. But he's also just told you that you're not allowed to finally put his dick inside you. So what fuck does he want from you? And why is he making it like a test? If he doesn't explain himself soon you'll burst into tears, you're not ashamed of how much you need him.
“I don't know what you mean."
“Make yourself cum."
You frown at him.
“But you just said I couldn't put it in."
“You can't. I'll allow you to use me but you don't get the privilege of me being inside you yet."
“So……what do you mean?”
"I mean,” he grabs your hips harshly and drags you forward, "you can't put it in, but use it.”
Ah. Now you get what he means, why couldn't he just say that?!
“Good girl princess," he sighs, his dominance wavering when your folds nestle his length between them, his dick still flush against his stomach and his tip so close to your clit that it makes your knees go weak.
You don't move for a second, you can't, finally having something takes your breath away but there's a cruelty to this all none the less. He knows you’re desperate to feel him inside you, the fact it would only take a second to have him exactly where you need him and he's so fucking close to there too, is just unbelievably unfair of him. But god does it make you leak around his length.
“Move then!" he slaps your thigh.
You hum and nod, your lip caught between your teeth as you begin to drag your sopping pussy along your husband's dick.
"Fuck that's embarrassing isn't it?” His voice is strained and if you had any ability to comprehend what he was saying you'd be quite pleased he's finding it difficult to remain completely cold, "Just grinding yourself along my dick has you leaking this much? Look at it _____, my stomach is glistening in you and you've only been doing it for thirty seconds.”
You glance down, your hole clenching around nothing when you see that he's right, the moonlight illuminates your bodies and a sheen that's almost iridescent gleams up at you.
But you don't reply, you're too busy grinding hurriedly on his length, his leaking tip nudging your clit every time you move and making you quiver.
“Are you already close?" He chuckles condescendingly.
You are and you're not ashamed of it, you’re moving at a hell of pace thanks to how wet you've made his dick, if anything it feels a bit too slippy. And the way his fat tip feels on your clit is fucking incredible. And yet, even though you're close, you still can't help but feel empty as you feel his length under you. You get the sudden urge to scream at him and ignore his cruel plan. It would take a second, just one nimble manoeuvre and you'd be full of him.
"Don't,” he slaps your tits both at the same time making your movements get impossibly quicker, "you even think about it princess.”
Damn him for knowing you so well!
“Thank you," you don't even know what you're thanking him for, you suppose if you're nice to him, he'll give you what you want.
He just hums and watches you intently, his eyes shining and yet still holding that darkness in them as his finger tips glide up your stomach. Your body twitches at the simple touch making him smirk as his finger tips glide around your nipples and swirl up to your neck, your pussy leaking even more at what he's about to do.
"Please Jeonghan.”
You both know what you want. And he isn't going to refuse having that power over you.
"Filthy,” his hand wraps around your throat, "fucking woman.”
He applies just enough pressure to make it feel like your airway is being restricted but not entirely cut off. The lack of oxygen only makes you more desperate and impossibly more wet.
Jeonghan holds your throat in his grasp, basically holding your body up from his spot lying on the bed, as he watches your eyes glaze over in pleasure and your pussy leak all over him.
"Hurry. Up.” He says through gritted teeth, his hand tightening just a little bit on your throat.
Your hips stutter, just one two more nudges on your clit and you'll be there. Jeonghan knows your body, he knows your little tells and the second he sees your hips falter he lets go of your neck and grabs your hips.
He keeps your hips moving as your orgasm washes over you, the rush of air in your lungs after having been deprived of it makes your head all dizzy. That feeling is what you love, your body in the ultimate pleasure it can be and so relieved at having oxygen back in your lungs mixes together to create one of the greatest feelings in the world. And thanks to your husband and his need to make you happy, even when he's being cruel in the bedroom, he rides you through your euphoria until it all gets too much.
You fall onto him, his arms welcoming you but only for long enough to place a gentle kiss on your temple and roll you off him. You don’t stop him, you don’t want to, he knows your body is his and you know he’d never do anything to hurt you, not that you didn’t enjoy anyway.
Jeonghan makes sure you’re ok, you lying on your stomach on the bed and him leaning over you just to double check, before he spreads your legs. He smirks to himself as he sees you clench, very pleased that even after a mind altering orgasm, his perfect wife is still eager for me.
He doesn’t say anything and gives you no indication of what he’s doing but two hands land either side of your head and you feel his dick near your pussy and his toned chest against your sweaty back. One of his hands moves for just a second, you feel his tip against your leaking hole and within seconds he slams himself into you, bottoming out straight away and taking with it your breath and the last of your sanity.
“FUCK!” You scream, trying to throw your head back but just meeting his chest as his hands cage you in either side of your head.
“Shut up,” he groans, moving onto on his elbows so he’s fully on top of you and his free hand coming to cover your mouth, “you want everyone to hear how well I’m fucking you?”
“Mmph,” you try to say no but you don’t get a chance, one because of his hand covering your mouth and secondly because before you can try to say anything, he starts pistoling you at a brutal pace.
His hips move at the speed of light as he hammers his throbbing length in and out of you. The weight of him on top of you, reminding you that you can’t escape him or the way his big dick is bullying its way into your abused hole again and again, is your only purpose in life right now.
“Maybe next time,” he mumbles darkly into your ear, “you’ll fucking do something,” he bites your ear lobe when you squeeze his dick a bit too good, “when your husband is threatened with the dungeons.”
His dick keeps hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, your sweaty skin clinging to each other as he rams himself in and out of you.
“But then again,” he turns your head a little as best he can, “this is what you wanted. You wanted punishing for being a bad fucking wife.”
Tears are falling down your cheeks at this point and you’re so fucking close, not that you can tell him, he’s still muffling your noises with his hand and the only sounds filling your ears are Jeonghan’s grunts and the sound of your sopping pussy as he hammers into you.
“You’re lucky,” he swallows his hips getting unsteady, letting you both know he’s close, “I’m so good to you. Aren’t I my love? I’m always ready to help you see the error of your ways.”
He smacks down into you again and again, your ass jiggling as he does from the force of it and all it takes is one particularly hard thrust and you clench down so hard on him that you both cum at the same time. You feel him empty his balls deep inside you as warmth takes over your body once again. His hips are sloppy as he rides you both through it, his hand still over your mouth to muffle your moans but his other hand holds yours tight in his, letting you know already that he’s there even before your high has fully subsided.
“Good girl,” he groans as his hips slow and you start to twitch a little in over stimulation. “Did so well for me, my love.”
He presses little featherlight kisses up and down your neck as he finally comes to a stop and slowly pulls out of you and rolls over onto his back.
“Come on,” he says softly, as he moves as close to you as possible, lifting your arm over his stomach then he can hold you. “There you go, you did so good for me princess,” his fingers soothe your hair as you try to regulate your breathing and snuggle closer to him.
“That was,” you say, voice a little gravelly from the grip he had on your throat, “so amazing.”
He can feel your smile against his skin and you know damn well he’s beaming up at the ceiling looking pretty pleased with himself.
“Well it was when you finally did as you were told.”
You sit up to give him your best stern look, him faltering slightly and showing you that your gormless, loveable husband is fully back with you.
“And if you weren’t so ridiculous, you wouldn’t be in the dungeon in the first place!”
“I did genuinely think I’d done a good job with the carving.” He mumbles.
“Hey,” you sit up and smush his cheeks together, “you did better than any of us could do and I love that you even tried. I love how much you always try.”
You giggle when he tries to smile even though you’re smushing his cheeks together.
“But we do need to change the rocking horse.” You kiss him and settle back into your rightful spot on his chest.
“I think perhaps we ask the carpenter to come in and fix it,”
“Maybe you could start some lessons with him, you could try and make another one when you’ve learnt the craft.” You say as you draw patterns on his stomach.
“I won’t have time. I’m planning on starting tapestry making with the girls tomorrow, and our nephew if he’d like to.”
You bite your tongue, knowing full well last time he tried any sort of sewing, his hands were bandaged for a week. But he wants to do it and you know that your daughters are lucky to have a father who tries so hard for them and so you keep your reservations to yourself.
“They’d like that dearest,” you snuggle in closer to him, “we’re all very lucky to have you.”
You say you have high standards. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend, Lee Seokmin, is exactly what your mental list calls for; as you joke about him being ‘too husbandable’ during a walk under cherry blossoms, he decides to fix that problem permanently.
boyfriend!lee seokmin × fem!reader ⋅ 2,836 words
🩷 GENRE/S. non-idol au, fluff, romance
🩷 CONTENTS. established relationship, mention of ‘high standards’ vs. reality, cherry blossom setting
⚠️ WARNINGS. none except mild profanity heheheh. but lmk if there is any i should’ve mentioned!
🩷 A/N. this is the first event we’ve hosted for @dorereef, and it was intentionally kept simple as a starting point. from here on, our events will continue to grow and improve as we find our rhythm and build our ideas together. i also want to take a moment to talk a little about drr itself. it’s our baby. both chee and i are attached to it, and to every member we currently have, as well as those who will join us in the future. i’ve been trying to focus more on the present lately, and i’ve realised that this is exactly where i want to be: with drr.
i genuinely wake up excited to see what our members are doing. even though it hasn’t been long, it’s already been incredibly rewarding to be surrounded by such kind and engaging people. i don’t think i can fully express how much love we have for this network and everyone in it.
a huge thank you to chee @nothoughtsjustfic for building this with me and for being such an important part of drr. i genuinely couldn’t do this without her [and all the things she does behind the scenes], and i’m really grateful to be doing this together. to all our members, thank you for being here and for participating. and for those who couldn’t take part this time for any reason, dw. the next events will be even better. we’re just getting started.
anyway, i love drr.
▸ PART OF @dorereef: The Reef In Bloom EVENT
📌 i hope you'll love all the fics in this event!
You always say you have high standards. It comes out so confidently too, it’s literally like you’ve got a whole checklist somewhere written about your non negotiables, expectations and the bare minimums that you can’t really see anymore these days.
But in reality, you know that’s not entirely true. Because if you’re being honest with yourself, you would just fall in love with someone who’s nice and gentle with you— that’s it; that’s the standard, and it’s not a high standard!
It’s a little embarrassing and ‘pathetic’ to admit, so you don’t. You just keep talking big like you wouldn’t melt the second someone treats you like a princess. And you used to think about it a lot more than you’d like to admit. You can’t wait for the day when somebody tells you you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to them, and they mean it entirely and not just saying it because it sounds nice and maybe earn a second date with you.
You used to treat that thought like a far off possibility that might happen one day, if you’re lucky. Because it was never about looks and just standards for you.
You don’t fall in love with looks; you fall for personality (at least that’s what you say for now but your actions might suggest both). If someone makes you smile and willingly joins you in doing dumb things, you’re basically already done. You don’t fall in love— you slip, fall, roll downhill, and accept your fate. That’s just how you are.
And soft spoken men… oh God, That’s been your number one pick in the great catalogue of men since the beginning of time.
Sweetheart, look how pretty that is! The voice comes from your side.
You look beside you and realize you can’t really relate to your past self and her so-called ‘standards’ anymore. You have your boyfriend, Seokmin, who not only has the personality you always wanted, but is also disgustingly good looking; cute and hot at the same time for absolutely no good reason.
You’re walking under rows of cherry blossom trees, petals falling down around you like something out of a kdrama scene. Your hands are intertwined with his warm hands, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over your knuckles as he talks.
He’s saying something more about the cherry blossom that you’re not even fully listening to except that he’s so happy talking about it and that’s all that matters to you to be honest, but his voice is so soft and exactly the kind you always said you liked • ᴖ •
You huff to yourself as you shake your head a little with a smitten smile as you look at him, stopping him from whatever he was saying, “stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband, bruh,” you tell him. You don’t even think he hears you, but then he stops walking. You take another step before realizing he’s no longer beside you, your hand slipping from his. You turn back confused, “why did you stop?”
Seokmin is just standing there looking at you in a way that makes you feel… nervous/stomach coiling all of a sudden? “What did you just say?” he looks at you caught off guard, probably can’t believe he’s hearing you right about being smitten over him for the nth time today, again.
“Nothing. I was just talking to myself,” you giggle.
He doesn’t walk when you turn forward to walk again, tugging your hand back to stop you from walking, “say it again.”
You squint your eyes a little with a smirk-smile, “why?”
“Just… please?”
You hesitate to think if you should tease him or just say it again, then sigh because reality hit you and now you feeling a little embarrassed but it’s too late to backpedal, “I said, stop being so husbandable if you can’t be my husband. It’s not that serious,” you hide your face with your hands and sprint away from him a little.
He just chuckles hearing you repeat it and being so shy again instead of your usual smug/forward self. “Well,” he goes after you, “I think that’s something I can fix.”
You frown, “huh?—” he reaches into his pocket and your words die in your throat when he goes down on one knee. Now, your brain is refusing to process what’s happening, like it’s literally lagging behind reality… but then he pulls out a small beige leather box, and suddenly everything feels very dreamlike, “Seokmin…”
“I know,” he’s nervous but trying not to show it too much, “I know I joke a lot, and I know you might’ve been joking about it too, but—” he continues, looking at you like nothing else exists, “you said you have high standards when we started dating… And I don’t even know if I will ever meet them, but I’ve been trying to.”
Your chest tightens so tight, it practically hurts. You want to tell him he exceeded everything you ever wanted from the bare minimum to the S-tier delusions you never thought you’d actually get. Stupid rich, offensively handsome, shining brighter than the sun for no reason, and with a personality so good it makes you consider violence as a form of support, having a personality that would make you kill anyone without hesitation if they made him even a little sad.
“I don’t always know what I’m doing, but I know I want to be good to you… I really do. I want to be someone who takes care of you, who you can rely on, someone who makes things easier for you and not harder… I’m still figuring things out, but I know I don’t want to do that without you,” he’s still on his knees. “And… I don’t know if I say it enough but… you really are the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he looks at you with googly eyes. This is exactly how you imagined it, except it doesn’t feel a far off possibility anymore, “and I mean it,” he adds.
You think you might as well start crying at this point, shit. “Baby…”
As he clicks the leather box open, the sunlight shines on the ring that seems less like jewelry and more like something plucked from a fairytale garden. Literally what you showed him one night, months ago about the styles you love and the styles you don’t. So, resting against the plush lining was a marquise cut diamond. Why you love this is because, the most beautiful part wasn't just the diamond, but how it was held; the rose gold band didn't follow a straight line, but instead twisted into vines that curled around the finger. Nestled along those shimmering gold branches were tiny, leaf shaped diamond clusters.
“So… will you let me be your husband?”
For a second, you just stare at the bright, bubbly, soft spoken man who became your reality. So basically the person who fits every single thing you used to think about like it was impossible.
You manage to breathe again and breathlessly laugh a bit as you shake your head as tears blur your vision. “Yes,” you say immediately after. “Yes, of course.”
His face lights up brighter than the sun or the diamond in the box, relief and happiness crashing into each other as he lets out a laugh of his own. “Really?”
“Obviously,” you mumble even as your voice wavers. “You’re already so husbandable. That’s literally the problem.”
He grins, eyes crinkling as he slips your dream ring onto your finger. “Heh,” he says with a big pretty smile that you absolutely adore. “Then I guess I’m right on track,” he says, but he doesn’t let go of your hand after sliding the ring on. If anything, his grip tightens; he needs to make sure this is actually happening.
He immediately cups your cheek so gently with one hand as his thumb brushes beneath your cheekbone, and the other at your waist.
Leaning in, his touch tightens just a bit as his breath brushes your upper lip first before his mouth connects with yours. His hand at your waist grips tighter and draws you closer without force while his fingers at your cheek angle your face just enough so he can deepen it.
Slowly, the kiss breaks in a reluctant pulling away that leaves the air between you buzzing. He doesn't pull back far but a little to rest his forehead against yours, his nose brushing yours in a gentle friction. For a long moment, the only sound is the ragged synchronization of your breathing and the rustle of the cherry blossoms around you. Slowly, his hands move; the one at your cheek slides down to find your hand, his fingers lacing through yours as he leads you back toward the path. This is when you realise that the world hasn’t changed, but the two of you have.
Under the shadows of the trees, his thumb keeps brushing over the ring over and over again. You’re now staring at your hand.
It feels… strange, but not in a bad way. “Hey,” he says with that pretty smile on his lips. You look up to find him not beaming anymore; instead, his expression has softened into a look so soft and anxious it feels like he’s laid his entire heart bare right there under the trees. But pretty all the same. “You’re really okay with this?” he asks.
You look at him, a little dumbfounded, but there’s no hiding the adoration in your voice or your heart. “You literally just proposed.”
“I know, but—” he takes out a breathless laugh, a sign that he’s a little nervous again, “you joke a lot. I just want to make sure you didn’t say yes because of the moment or something.”
The weight of his gaze is heavy, but it’s a weight you realise you’re more than happy to carry for the rest of your life… but you stare at him for a second, dumbfounded all over again. You didn’t think your love for him could grow any more, but now you know it can. “Lee Seokmin.”
He straightens at your tone. “Yes, love?”
“If I didn’t want to marry you, I would’ve run.”
“…that’s fair.”
“And also,” you hold your hand up between you, “you put a ring on me. There’s no take-backs now. This is legally binding.”
He snorts as the tension breaks instantly, “sweetheart, that’s not how it works,” he’s
with that smile that you love.
“It is now.”
He chuckles as he comes closer and connects your foreheads. Cherry blossoms keep falling around you as some even sit on his hair, on your shoulders, on your joined hands.
“Wait—,” you say suddenly as you gain some sort of enlightenment.
He flinches, “what?”
“You said I’m the best thing that ever happened to you,” you raise your eyebrow at him, looking a little skeptical.
“…yeah?”
“But that’s crazy.”
He deflates on the spot like a puppy that just got told off, “why is that crazy?”
“Because,” you shrug, trying (and failing) to keep a straight face, “I was expecting something a little, you know, maybe a longer speech. Maybe, I don’t know, more tears? Actually! Was hoping for a breakdown.”
He stares at you, lower lip pushed out in a defiant swell that makes him look more like a kicked puppy than a newly engaged man. His brows are drawn together in a mock scowl, but the effect is completely ruined by the sheer, plush roundness of his mouth— a pout so dramatic and endearingly childish it feels like a physical provocation, “you’re making fun of me after I proposed?”
You’re internally, physically, going, sjjsjsnsbzkznzb, your heart doing frantic gymnastics against your ribs as a wave of pure cuteness aggression crashes over you. It’s him that’s making you want to either scream into a pillow or bite his cheek. You go on your tippy toes, catching that soft, stubborn protrusion with a kiss, physically pressing the gloom right off his face. “I said yes, didn’t I?” you whisper against his lips as you feel the tension melt out of him as the pout finally dissolves. “Be happy.”
He squints at you, then gives out a disbelieving laugh. “What do I do with you?” he squishes your cheeks.
“Love me,” you wink at him.
“I do,” he doesn’t hesitate before he leans down to give you a fast kiss on your lips.
It kicks the humor right out of your chest for a second, “…yeah,” you mumble as you look away and look at everything but him, “I know.”
He pulls you into him anyway as his arms wrap around you tightly. You huff, but your arms come up around him just as quickly, holding on just as tight. “Fiancée,” he whispers into your shoulder.
You make a face even though he can’t see it, “don’t say it like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re obsessed with me.”
He leans back a little to look at you, eyebrows raised, “I am obsessed with you.”
“…okay, that’s embarrassing.”
“And you’re still marrying me.”
You sigh as if you’re annoyed by the fact as if you’re not actually completely gone for him, “yeah, unfortunately.”
He grins bright, completely unbothered and pats your head.
You stay like that for a moment longer, wrapped up in each other while petals keep falling around you. And then he laces your fingers together again, lifting your joined hands. “Come on,” he says.
“Where?”
He playfully smiles with a mixed sweet and teasing glint in his crinkling eyes, “we should probably keep walking. I don’t think proposing was the final destination.”
You look down at the ring catching the light, “… bruh you just changed my entire life mid walk,” you mumble.
“And you’re complaining?” he asked amused as a radiant grin breaks across his face that seems to catch the very photon of the road. It was his smile that didn’t sit on his lips; it crinkled the corners of his eyes into warm crescents and bared a perfect, gleaming row of teeth.
There was a genuine, boyish heat to it… you’ll literally go teary eyes to see a flash of his pure, unadulterated joy that makes his whole expression soften, turning his features into a map of sheer contagious light. Your man looks like a man who had never known a dark day in his life, or perhaps, like someone who had decided to be the sun for everyone else. So, you melt into his smile but being your pretense of being sane for him, “sure.”
He chuckles as the sound is a honeyed vibration that seems to absorb right in the marrow of your bones. He squeezes your hand as you both start walking again under the canopy of cherry blossoms.
You’re walking side by side just like before, but every cell in your body feels electrified by the sudden change within the last ten to fifteen minutes. This isn’t just your best friend or the boy you grew up with; this is the man who just promised his forever to you. You’re trailing beside him as your eyes trace the line of his jaw and his crinkling eyes when he looks at you, feeling absolutely, hopelessly undone.
It’s a terrifying, dizzying kind of love for you. Like, no matter how many times you’ll say you’re down bad for him, you still wanna make sure that everyone knows that you’d follow him into a storm just to stay in his orbit. You watch the dappled light dance across his skin and honestly, you're a goner. You’re down bad, head over heels, and slipping deeper with every step he takes. He’s the only person who could make your heart feel this heavy and this light all at once, and as you tighten your grip on his hand, you realise you never want to surface for air. You swing your joined hands slightly, then look at him again, “by the way,” you add, “why are you so husbandable?”
He smiles without looking at you so it’s a secret thing that he seems to be savoring all to himself. But you saw it anyway. “Because now, I actually get to be your husband,” he looks at you after saying it.
You’re frozen when he looks at you like that, probably expecting you to hit him, flirt with him or say something more cheeky. But you’re still frozen by how he’s looking at you. Internally screaming, your brain is a mess of static because how are you supposed to function when he’s being this fucking perfect? You want to tuck the sound of his voice into your pocket and keep it forever. He’s not just ‘husbandable’ to you at this rate— he is the literal blueprint, the standard, the absolute end of the road for you, and the way he looks right now bathed in the spring light, makes you realise you are irrevocably, helplessly his.
casualties of chemistry - choi seungcheol imagine part one
helllooooooo ~ i feel like it's been so long?😅 i'm just so happy i was able to write again, and sorry it took some time. i rewatched descendants of the sun and got inspired. you'll get it when you read this. hope you like it and see you on the next part!🤍
PART TWO HERE
for my other svt fics, check them here
alsoooo i have a kofi acc, if anyone wants to send some coffee thank u in advance😊🌻🤍
The fluorescent lights of the convenience store buzz overhead loud enough to make your headache worse.
Your scrubs are hidden beneath your coat, but the exhaustion still clings to you like a second skin. Twenty-one hours awake. Two trauma surgeries. Your shoulders ache as you stand in front of the drink fridge debating whether caffeine at 1:17 a.m. is self-care or self-destruction.
Probably both.
The cashier is half asleep behind the counter. The entire store smells like instant ramen and rain dragged in from outside.
Then
“Give it back, asshole.”
A younger voice. Nervous. Angry.
You glance toward the back aisle. four teenage boys crowd around another kid near the cup noodles section. School uniforms half worn properly, faces carrying that dangerous mix of boredom and ego.
One of them is holding a backpack above his head while the smaller boy tries to grab it back.
“Hyung, seriously,” the smaller one mutters “Stop.”
The tallest teen laughs “Then say please.”
You sigh quietly. Apparently the universe saw your exhaustion and decided you weren’t suffering enough tonight.
You shut the fridge door. The slam makes them look over.
“Hey,” you call out, voice flat from fatigue more than fear “Give him his bag back.”
The boys blink at you. “Now.”
The tallest one smirks “Yah, noona,” he says lazily “Just go home.”
You should. You absolutely should.
Instead you fold your arms.
“I’m giving you exactly five seconds before I decide to become extremely annoying”
The smallest boy looks like he might cry from relief someone intervened.
The taller teen scoffs “Why do adults always act like—”
“Four seconds.”
“You think we’re scared of—”
“Three.”
Another one snorts “She’s crazy.”
You’re too tired to even deny it “Two.”
The tallest boy starts walking toward you instead. Your eyes narrow.
“Kid,” you warn “I work in trauma surgery. Do you know how little teenage intimidation affects me after seeing a man arrive with a knife through his thigh?”
That actually makes two of them hesitate but the leader keeps coming.
“Scary,” he mocks “What are you gonna do? Lecture me to death?”
You open your mouth when suddenly someone bumps lightly into your shoulder from behind.
Not hard hust enough presence to announce itself.
Instantly the air changes.
There’s a man standing beside you now. Tall. Broad enough to block half the aisle light. Black jacket. Black cargo pants. Combat boots darkened by rainwater. One gloved hand holding what looks like keys.
And his face—
God.
Sharp eyes. Strong jaw. Cold expression carved perfectly still. Not just handsome.
Dangerous almost.
The kind of man people instinctively move around. One glance from him and the entire mood in the store drops ten degrees.
The tallest teenager straightens immediately. You notice it right away, that shift.
Predators recognizing a bigger predator.
The man doesn’t even look at them fully at first.
He looks at you. His gaze flicks once over your tired face, your hospital ID hanging from your coat pocket, then toward the boys.
Calmly, he asks, “Problem?” His voice is low. Controlled.
Military. Or something authoritative because that much aura can’t be tied to a desk all day.
One of the boys immediately shakes his head “No, hyung.”
The man finally turns toward them completely. It’s subtle, but you catch it.
The posture. The alertness. The kind of stillness that screams trained.
“Are you bothering her?” he asks
“No.”
“Bothering him?” He nods toward the smaller teenager, they all stay silent which was answer enough.
The captain—because there is absolutely no way this man isn’t somebody’s terrifying superior officer somewhere—takes one slow step forward.
That’s it. One step and the boys immediately crack.
“Sorry!”
“We were leaving anyway—”
“Let’s go, let’s go.”
The backpack gets shoved back into the younger boy’s chest before the group practically trips over themselves escaping the store.
The bell above the door jingles violently as they disappear into the rain.
Silence settles. The younger teen bows rapidly at you both.
“Thank you,” he blurts before hurrying out too.
And just like that, it’s over.
You exhale slowly. Your adrenaline crashes almost immediately after. The man beside you finally looks down at you properly.
Up close, he’s even worse.
Broad shoulders stretching beneath dark fabric. Wet black hair pushed back carelessly. A faint scar near his jaw.
While his eyes linger on the dark circles beneath yours.
“You shouldn’t confront groups alone,” he says
You stare at him then laugh once in disbelief.
“Excuse me?”
His eyebrow lifts slightly “I’m serious.”
“And I’m serious when I say I’m too tired to tolerate being scolded by Batman”
For the first time, his expression shifts. Barely.
“You do this often?” he asks
“What? Interfere when kids are acting stupid?”
“Yes” You shrug tiredly and walk toward the fridge again.
“I’m an ER doctor. My entire career is built around interfering when people are acting stupid.” you continue.
You grab two canned coffees without thinking. When you turn around, he’s still watching you like he’s assessing every movement automatically.
Definitely military.
You hold one coffee out toward him.
“A peace offering since you apparently saved me.”
“I didn’t save you.”
“No?” You tilt your head “Those boys looked one second away from peeing themselves.”
“They were kids.”
“Mm. Terrified kids.”
He takes the can from your hand finally. His fingers brush yours briefly. Warm despite the cold rain outside.
“Choi Seungcheol,” he says after a moment.
“Military?” you ask. He raises a brow at your question so you continue,
“You’re too scary to be an office worker, you’re dressed in all black and let’s not get started on your combat boots”
That earns a chuckle from him.
“Military, Captain. And you? Doctor?” he points at your ID and scrubs under your coat
You nod once “Y/N.”
“You’re just Y/N?”
“You’re just Captain?” Another almost-smile. Dangerous how attractive that becomes on his face.
The cashier awkwardly clears his throat from the counter like he’s been witnessing a drama unfold in real time.
You both walk up to pay.
“You’re getting off work now?” Seungcheol asks
“At this point I basically live at the hospital.”
“What kind of doctor?”
“Traum, ER, general surgery.”
That finally gets a real reaction from him. A slight widening of the eyes. “You do emergency surgery?”
“Mhm.”
“That’s rough.”
You snort softly “You say that dressed like you came straight out of a classified mission.”
His gaze flickers toward you “Something like that.”
You pay for the coffees When you step outside, the rain has softened into a drizzle. Streetlights reflect gold against wet pavement.
You pull your coat tighter around yourself.
Then notice the black motorcycle parked near the curb. Of course he rides that.
Seungcheol catches you looking “You disapprove?”
“I know the statistics of how many injuries per month are caused by that very vehicle” you say honestly then look at him, head to toe” It’s annoyingly fitting.”
He actually laughs this time, low. Brief. It changes his whole face. You hate how handsome it is.
“You parked far?” he asks
“A block away”
“I’ll walk you.”
You immediately shake your head “That’s unnecessary.”
“At 1:30 in the morning?”
“I can handle myself.”
“I know ” The answer comes instantly. Certain and somehow that makes you pause because he really means it.
Then he gestures down the sidewalk “Come on, doctor.”
Captain Choi Seungcheol looked at you like he already knows you’re capable of handling yourself.
He just doesn’t want you doing it alone tonight.
=
It’s been a few days.
To Seungcheol, you were supposed to be one of those strange late-night encounters people forget after a week.
A tired doctor. A convenience store. That should’ve been it.
Except he remembered things annoyingly well.
Your name. Your face. The hospital ID hanging from your coat. The way you looked half dead but still stepped in front of a group of idiots without hesitation.
And apparently that information decided to stay lodged in his brain.
Which is why he’s currently standing inside the samer hospital he saw printed on your ID badge at nearly noon on three hours of sleep, staring at the giant directory board near the lobby while his best friend talks endlessly beside him.
“I’m telling you, it feels way better already,” Minho says while flexing his shoulder dramatically beneath his hoodie “I think the medic overreacted.”
“You got stabbed.”
“It barely pierced.”
Seungcheol gives him a flat look.
Minho grins shamelessly “You worry too much, Capt”
They’re waiting outside OPD wing after Minho insisted he was “completely fine” for three straight days before finally admitting he couldn’t lift his arm properly.
The hospital around them moves like organized chaos.
In the thirteen minutes they’ve been standing there, Seungcheol has counted at least nine staff members rushing past.
Nurses pushing carts. Residents jogging with tablets in hand. A doctor speed-walking while eating half a sandwich and reading scans simultaneously.
It reminds him too much of command centers before operations.
Everyone moving with purpose. One mistake meaning disaster.
Life and death.
Just cleaner here. More fluorescent lighting. Less guns.
“You’re not even listening,” Minho complains
“Hm.”
“I said after this we should eat samgyeopsal.”
“You say that every day.”
“Because it’s always a good idea.”
Seungcheol’s attention drifts again toward the ER hallway visible from the waiting area. Your hallway he assumes. He wonders briefly if you’re down there right now yelling at residents.
Then, all of a sudden
“Clear the way!”
The voice cuts sharply through the corridor. Immediate.
Everything shifts instantly. Nurses move aside. Orderlies straighten. People clear space without hesitation.
Seungcheol turns automatically toward the sound snd sees you.
For one suspended second, the entire hallway narrows into a single scene. A trauma bed flies through the corridor surrounded by staff.
You’re on top of it. Actually on top of it. Kneeling over the patient while the bed moves at full speed.
Your bloody gloves press down hard against someone’s chest.
“BP crashing!” Your voice slices through the panic perfectly steady.
“Resume compressions.”
You’re still wearing dark blue scrubs, sleeves shoved to your elbows. Blood streaks across your forearms. There’s something smeared near your jaw you clearly haven’t noticed.
But your face… your face is terrifyingly focused. Locked in.
The same way Seungcheol has seen soldiers during active operations. Pure training taking over.
He watches your hands move with brutal precision.
Compression. Count. Check. Compression. Count.
“Move!”
The bed rushes past. You don’t even notice him standing there. You’re too busy keeping someone alive.
And somehow that hits him harder than expected. Beside him, Minho goes unusually quiet.
“…Whoa.”
The trauma team disappears through double doors. Silence returns slowly afterward.
Distant announcements overhead.
But Seungcheol still stares at the doors. His military career has put him in firefights, covert extractions, hostage situations.
He knows pressure. He knows adrenaline.
Minho lets out a low whistle “Your doctors here are insane.”
Seungcheol’s eyes stay on the trauma doors.
Almost twenty minutes later, he sees you again. You come walking down the corridor slower this time, peeling off bloody gloves with tired movements.
There’s another doctor beside you speaking quickly about scans “…possible splenic rupture but neuro says pupils reacted after—”
“I know,” you interrupt while signing something on a clipboard mid-walk “Page me the second CT is uploaded.”
Then you finally look up. And stop.
Your eyes land on him instantly. Recognition flashes then confusion.
Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near OPD hall looking offensively calm in all black while your hospital looks like it’s actively collapsing around you.
You blink once “What are you doing here?”
His gaze flicks over the blood on your scrubs “You work like this every day?”
You look down at yourself briefly
“Oh” You rub absently at the stain near your jaw and fail to remove it entirely “Pretty standard Wednesday.”
“It’s Friday,” Minho says helpfully. You stare at him.
“…I genuinely didn’t know that.”
That finally makes Seungcheol huff out a laugh. Small but you notice it immediately.
Annoyingly attractive.
The other doctor beside you looks between the three of you curiously before muttering something about checking scans and walking off.
Then it’s just you, Seungcheol, and the very energetic stranger beside him. Minho brightens immediately.
“I’m Minho,his co-worker, bestfriend, confidante, drinking buddy” he says enthusiastically, immediately you wonder how a man like him is friends with a man like Sengcheol but also it makes total sense.
“OHHH wait you’re the convenience store noona!”
You freeze. Slowly turn toward Seungcheol.
“…You told your friend about me?”
“I mentioned a doctor.”
“He absolutely did not just mention a doctor,” Minho says instantly “He remembered your full hospital name from your ID badge—”
“Enough.”
You look back at Seungcheol with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t even look embarrassed.
If anything, he looks mildly annoyed his friend exposed him.
“So,” you say slowly “Captain Choi Seungcheol remembers details, huh?”
His gaze meets yours steadily “Yes.”
And for some reason, with alarms ringing somewhere deeper in the ER and your pulse still running on adrenaline that single word affects you more than it should.
You glance down at the chart in your hands, then back at them. That’s when you notice both men staring at you.
You blink. Then laugh tiredly.
“What?” You gesture vaguely to yourself “Need stitching up too?”
Minho looks alarmed for half a second before Seungcheol points toward your face.
“There’s blood on your chin,” he says
Automatically your hand flies there “…Ah”
Your fingers come away red. Right. You probably look horrifying.
You huff a laugh “I look like a crazy person right now.”
“You look like you fought someone.”
“I kind of did.”
Your answer comes so naturally both men go quiet for a beat. Then you shake your head slightly and look back at Seungcheol.
“But seriously,” you say, “why are you here?”
His expression stays calm as ever “Not me” Then he points beside him.
You stare at him for one second before laughing despite yourself and waving back with your bloodied hand.
“That’s somehow more concerning.”
“He’s dramatic,” Seungcheol says flatly
“I heard that!”
“You were meant to”
You snort softly then somewhere deeper in the ER, an alarm suddenly starts blaring. Immediately your posture changes.
Doctor mode again.
Your head turns toward the sound before your brain even catches up. One of the nurses appears around the corner.
“Dr. Y/N, they need you in Trauma 2”
“I’m coming.”
You look back at the two men.
“Well,” you say while already walking backward “try not to stab yourselves again.”
“It was one time,” Minho protests
Then you disappear back through the swinging ER doors.
For a few seconds Seungcheol keeps staring after you.
The automatic doors swing shut.
Silence.
“Oh my god.”
Seungcheol doesn’t look away from the hallway “Don’t”
“So someone has a crush.”
That finally makes him turn. Slowly. Dangerously.
Minho grins wider immediately “You remembered her hospital, her department, her name, the fact she works ER—”
Seungcheol elbows him hard in the ribs
“OW—yah!”
“You talk too much”
“You absolutely like her!”
“I met her twice”
“Exactly.” Minho points dramatically toward the ER doors “And you already got the brooding military man stare going on.”
“I always look like this.”
“That’s somehow worse.”
Seungcheol exhales through his nose and looks back toward the trauma wing again despite himself.
Minho nudges him again with a grin “You should ask for her number next time”
“There won’t be a next time.”
Right then, one of the ER doors swings open again. You walk out halfway, scanning a chart while speaking to a nurse beside you.
Then absentmindedly, you look again towards their direction and you lift your hand and wave once in their direction before disappearing again.
Minho bursts out laughing instantly.
“Oh you are finished”
=
Two months passed. Eight weeks. Which, in your life, feels more like Eight hours.
Trauma cases blur together. Overnight surgeries become afternoon consults become thirty-minute naps in the call room before another emergency rolls in.
You forget meals. Forget what day it is. Forget to answer texts for three days straight.
But somehow you don’t entirely forget Captain Choi Seungcheol.
Mostly because that would require forgetting a face carved by some genuinely unfair higher power.
Not that it matters. You saw him twice and honestly, you assume he forgot about you too.
Military men like him probably disappear for months at a time doing things you legally shouldn’t ask about.
Then Wednesday evening happens.
Oddly calm for once. No active traumas. No screaming. You’re sitting at the nurse station reading through post-op charts while sipping coffee that tastes vaguely like burnt regret.
One of the nurses pokes her head around the corner.
“Dr. Y/N? OPD asked if someone can check a laceration. They’re short staffed.”
“Mhm. I’ll do it ” You grab the chart absentmindedly while walking.
Male. Thirty. Forearm injury. You barely register the name. Your eyes are too focused on lab notes as you push aside the curtain.
Then freeze.
Oh.
Captain Choi Seungcheol sits on the examination bed in a black compression shirt with the sleeves pushed up.
You haven’t seen him in two months and somehow he still manages to look unfairly intimidating in fluorescent hospital lighting.
His gaze lifts immediately when you walk in. There’s a split second where genuine surprise crosses his face.
“There you are,” he says. Like he’s been expecting you specifically.
You blink once “…Why are you in my hospital bleeding again?”
The corner of his mouth twitches slightly “It’s not serious.”
You glance down toward the blood-soaked gauze wrapped around his forearm
“Mm,” you hum dryly “And I’m the queen of England.”
He actually huffs a laugh at that. You set the chart down and move closer. Only then do you notice the faint exhaustion beneath his eyes.
Like he hasn’t slept properly in days. Deployment, your brain supplies immediately.
You pull on gloves “What happened?”
“Scratch”
You slowly look up at him then deliberately peel back the gauze and immediately stop.
“…Captain.”
“It looks worse than it is.”
You stare at the deep graze tearing across his arm. Your eyes narrow slightly.
“That’s a bullet wound.”
“Barely.”
“Bullet wounds count as scratches now?”
“It grazed me”
“By definition, that is still being shot”
His eyes stay on your face while you work. Calm. Observant.
“You know what a bullet wound looks like?” he asks you, the question is casual but there’s something underneath it.
You continue cleaning the injury carefully “Apparently I do”
“You sound experienced”
You shrug one shoulder “Volunteer work overseas during residency”
“Where?”
“Borders near conflict zones mostly.” You pause. “Refugee camps. Emergency field hospitals”
You continue inspecting the wound.
“You?”
A faint smile touches his mouth “That’s classified”
You snort softly “Of course it is.”
“But yes,” he says after a second “Conflict zones”
You nod once like that explains everything because somehow it does.
You’ve seen soldiers before. Not polished recruitment-poster versions ,the exhausted kind, men who scan rooms before resting. Men who downplay injuries because pain becomes background noise eventually.
Captain Choi Seungcheol fits into that category too easily.
You disinfect the wound and he doesn’t even flinch.
“Either you have insane pain tolerance,” you murmur, “or your nerves are damaged”
“I’ve had worse.”
You glance at him briefly. That sentence unsettles you more than it should.
You begin stitching carefully. The room grows quieter.
Outside the curtain you hear distant announcements overhead, nurses chatting faintly, rolling carts passing by.
Inside just you and him.
“You disappeared” you say before thinking The words slip out accidentally.
Why did you say that?
But Seungcheol doesn’t look surprised
“Deployment,” he answers simply
“For a 8 weeks?”
“Longer than expected”
Your eyes flick toward him again. “And you came back straight to the hospital?”
“You’re here”
The answer comes so naturally you almost miss the implication entirely.
Your fingers still. Slowly you look up and he’s already watching you completely serious.
Your heartbeat does one very annoying thing against your ribs. You clear your throat and go back to stitching.
“You flirt terribly for someone this handsome”
That finally earns you a real laugh. Low and warm and rough around the edges from exhaustion.
“You think I’m handsome?”
You don’t even look up “I think you’re bleeding on my examination bed.”
“That wasn’t the question”
You tie off another stitch tighter than necessary. He doesn’t complain.
“You survived covert deployment missions,” you say coolly “You’ll survive not getting compliments.”
“Mm.” but he’s still looking at you like he already won anyway
You finish the last stitch and snip the thread cleanly.
“There,” you murmur “Try not to get shot again for at least a week.”
You peel off your gloves and toss them into the bin before leaning back slightly against the counter.
Now that the immediate task is done, the room settles into something quieter.
More dangerous somehow because Captain Choi Seungcheol looking at you while not actively bleeding is significantly harder to ignore.
Your eyes drift back to his face unintentionally.
Sharp nose. Strong jaw. Tired eyes. And apparently dimples.
You blink once.
Hold on.
He has dimples? You narrow your eyes slightly at him like this is personally offensive.
“What?” he asks
“You have dimples.”
That actually catches him off guard for half a second then he laughs softly again. And there they are. Deep enough to completely ruin your composure.
Oh, you’re in trouble.
You look away first before your dignity fully evaporates.
“So,” you say casually while writing notes on his chart, “safe to assume a man with a dangerous job like yours is single?”
His eyebrow lifts “That’s your professional medical assessment?”
“Absolutely.”
He leans back slightly against the bed, arms folding carefully to avoid the fresh stitches “And what’s the diagnosis based on?”
You pretend to think about it seriously. “Emotionally unavailable tendencies. Mild insomnia. Chronic work obsession.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“It should.”
He watches you for another second before the corner of his mouth lifts again “Safe to assume a woman with a job like yours is also single?”
“Would you like me to confirm or deny?”
His eyes sharpen immediately at the challenge.
“I’d like an answer.”
“Mm ” You tap the pen lightly against the chart “Maybe I enjoy keeping mysterious military captains stressed”
“You think I get stressed?”
“You came into a hospital with a bullet wound and called it a scratch” You tilt your head. “That’s either confidence or brain damage.”
“That’s not an answer either.”
“You’re persistent.”
“You’re avoiding.”
You stare at each other for one suspended second then your pager suddenly explodes to life against your waist.
Of course.
You close your eyes briefly. The hospital truly refuses to let you experience peace for more than twelve consecutive seconds. You glance down at the screen and sigh.
“Trauma consult,” you mutter
Seungcheol watches the immediate switch happen again. The way your entire posture changes instinctively the second work calls.
Like someone flipping a switch.
You grab another pair of gloves from the counter.
Before leaving, you pause by the curtain and look back at him.
“Come back in three days,” you say “I’ll check the wound.”
One of his eyebrows lifts slowly then that smug little smirk appears.
“A date then?”
You stare at him. Honestly stare.
Because the audacity.
Then, against your own will, you feel yourself smiling.
“Don’t flatter yourself, Captain”
“But you’re asking to see me again”
“Medically”
“Mm.”
“And if you reopen those stitches before then,” you continue while backing toward the door, “I’m charging you emotional damages”
His gaze follows you effortlessly.
“What if I come back without reopening them?”
You pause then point at him once.
“That,” you say, “depends how charming you manage to be in three days”
And before he can answer you disappear through the curtain again.
Leaving Captain Choi Seungcheol sitting alone in the examination room with fresh stitches, a slightly racing heartbeat, and the sudden realization that he is absolutely coming back in three days.
=
Three days later, you accidentally spend fifteen whole minutes staring at yourself in the hospital bathroom mirror.
Which is ridiculous. Actually ridiculous.
You’ve gone to work looking half dead for years. You’ve stitched arteries together after thirty-hour shifts looking like a raccoon dragged out of a hurricane.
And yet today you actually combed your hair properly. Your usually rushed bun is neat for once, not held together by stress and blind faith.
You even put on the faintest lip tint. Nothing dramatic.Just enough to make you look less like the hospital crypt keeper.
And the perfume— god. You haven’t touched that perfume in months.
One spray. That’s it.
You blame sleep deprivation. Clearly your frontal lobe is failing.
The second you walk into the ER station, Head Nurse Yang narrows her eyes at you immediately.
Ms. Yang has worked trauma nursing longer than you’ve been a surgeon.
Nothing escapes her. Not fear. Not exhaustion and apparently not lip tint either.
“Hm,” she hums suspiciously
You don’t look up from the charts in your hands “What?”
“Something’s different”
You keep your voice perfectly casual “Huh?”
Ms. Yang continues staring.
“I don’t see it,” you say quickly
“Mhm.” That single hum holds seventy years of judgment.
You ignore her mostly because if you acknowledge it, you’ll have to admit you spent ten entire minutes deciding between two shades of lipstick this morning like a lunatic.
The ER stays surprisingly manageable through most of the afternoon.
A motorcycle accident. Two fractures. One drunk guy insisting his traffic cone was “emotionally supportive.”
Standard Wednesday.
By around three, you’re finishing notes at the nurse station when one of the younger nurses approaches with an amused smile.
“Dr. Y/N?”
“Mhm?”
“Your patient is here” Something in her tone makes your eyes narrow immediately.
“My patient?”
The nurse tries—and fails—to hide her grin.
You look up and there he is. Captain Choi Seungcheol stands near the ER entrance in dark jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt rolled to his forearms.
No tactical gear this time.no visible injuries beyond the healing stitches beneath his bandage which honestly makes him worse somehow.
Because now there’s nothing distracting you from the fact he looks unfairly good standing under fluorescent hospital lights.
His gaze lands on you instantly. His eyes sharpen slightly.
You stand slowly from your chair.
Behind you, Ms. Yang suddenly makes a tiny noise of realization “Oh.”
Traitor. You ignore her with dignity. Mostly.
Seungcheol walks over calmly, hands tucked loosely into his pockets
“You look different,” he says immediately
You cross your arms “You sound like Head Nurse Yang.”
Your stomach betrays you in the most embarrassing way imaginable by flipping slightly. Professionalism. Remember professionalism.
You clear your throat “Did you reopen the wound?”
“No.”
“Fever?”
“No.”
“Pain?”
“Manageable.”
You nod once “Good. Follow me.”
You lead him toward one of the smaller examination rooms, painfully aware of at least three nurses watching with open interest. The second the door closes behind you, the atmosphere changes.
Quieter.
You gesture toward the examination bed.
“Sit.”
You step between his knees to unwrap the bandage carefully, and immediately realize this was a tactical mistake because now he’s close.
Way too close.
You catch traces of clean soap and something woodsy beneath it. Your perfume probably mixes with it in the tiny room.
Fantastic.
You focus on the wound instead. The stitches look good. Healing cleanly. No infection.
“You listened,” you murmur while inspecting the skin
“I follow orders sometimes”
“Liar”
A soft laugh rumbles from his chest. You glance up instinctively… big mistake because he’s already looking at you.
Not your hands. Not the wound. You. Your fingers still briefly against his arm.
There’s a beat of silence.
“You wore perfume”
Your eyes widen slightly. Oh, he’s observant-observant.
You recover quickly “You noticed?”
“You walked in and three nurses looked at you like they’d discovered hospital gossip for the next month”
“I’m transferring departments.”
He laughs quietly again and there are those stupid dimples. You finish rewrapping his arm carefully.
“Captain, if you flirt while I’m holding scissors, that’s on you”
“I think you like me.”
You look up slowly “Oh?”
“You haven’t denied it once.”
The confidence on this man.
Honestly.
You tie off the bandage tighter than necessary. He doesn’t even react.
“You military men are exhausting”
“And yet,” he says calmly, “you wore perfume”
You finish securing the clean bandage around his arm carefully, fingers smoothing the tape against warm skin.
“Alright,” you say, slipping back into your practiced doctor voice before this room gets any more dangerous. “Keep it dry and clean for another week. No heavy strain on the arm.”
“Yes ma’am.” Your hand pauses for half a second against his wrist.
Oh.
Oh that voice should genuinely come with a warning label. Low. Smooth. Obedient in the most deliberate way possible.
You recover professionally. Mostly.
“Don’t lift anything stupid,” you continue calmly
“Yes ma’am.”
Your soul briefly leaves your body. You clear your throat and refuse to acknowledge the fact your ears suddenly feel warm.
“Also,” you say while reaching for the chart a little too quickly, “if the wound opens, if you get feverish, dizzy, increased pain, redness—come back immediately.”
“Yes ma’am.”
You finally look up at him properly. His expression is completely composed. Like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
And the worst part? He absolutely does.
You narrow your eyes slightly “You seem very pleased with yourself right now”
“I’m following instructions.”
“You’re weaponizing manners.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. Those stupid dimples appear again.
You need the universe to stop giving this man additional attractive features.
For public safety.
You finish scribbling notes onto his chart before setting the clipboard aside.
Then casually—very casually—you say:
“And for the record…”
His gaze lifts immediately. You peel off your gloves slowly, tossing them into the bin.
“I can actually look like this,” you gesture vaguely toward yourself, “on a good day.”
There’s a beat of silence. Seungcheol looks at you fully then.
His eyes move over your neat hair, your glossed lips, the perfume he already noticed, the version of you that exists outside blood stains and overnight exhaustion.
Then he breaks into a smile. Warm enough to completely transform his face.
Dimples and all.
“Here I was,” he says softly, “thinking you were going on a date”
You raise an eyebrow immediately while reaching for the discharge forms.
“I thought this was one.”
Silence. Then Seungcheol smirks. Slowly. Like he enjoys watching you land hits back just as much as giving them.
Dangerous man. Absolute menace.
You sign off the chart and step outside the room where the assigned nurse is very obviously pretending not to eavesdrop. She startles slightly when you hand her the paperwork.
“Discharge complete” you say with suspicious professionalism.
“Yes doctor,” she answers equally suspiciously.
You turn back toward Seungcheol as he stands from the examination bed.
You pull a business card from your coat pocket and hold it out to him.
“My direct line,” you say
His eyebrows lift slightly as he takes it.
“You know,” you add casually, “for whenever there’s emergency anything.”
His thumb brushes over the card once while reading your name. Then he looks up at you slowly.
“Emergency anything?”
You cross your arms lightly “Bullet wounds. Concussions. Poor decision making.”
“What category is asking you to dinner under?”
Your breath catches for the tiniest second.
This man.
You tilt your head “Depends.”
“On?”
“How good the restaurant is.”
He chuckles quietly “Yes ma’am.”
And there it is again.
That damn yes ma’am.
You genuinely have to look away for a moment just to preserve what’s left of your composure.
Behind you, the nurse suddenly makes a choking sound suspiciously similar to holding in laughter.
Traitor.
You point toward the hallway before your dignity fully collapses.
“Out,” you say firmly. “Before I prescribe bed rest permanently.”
Seungcheol starts walking backward toward the exit, eyes still on you.
“Dinner Friday?”
“You’re very confident for someone recently shot.”
“You gave me your number.”
“For emergencies.”
“Meeting you sounds medically necessary.”
You actually laugh then. Real enough that a few nurses glance over curiously.
And Seungcheol notices that too. The fact he made you laugh and something softer flickers across his face for half a second.
Then he taps your card lightly against his chest pocket.
“I’ll text you, doctor.”
And somehow that simple promise feels far more dangerous than any bullet wound ever could.
=
Friday arrives surprisingly fast.
Mostly because your week disappears under consults, surgeries, and one forty-eight-year-old man who somehow managed to fracture his wrist trying to “race” his nephew.
But eventually—
Friday.
Your actual rest day.
Which feels fictional.
You wake up without an alarm for the first time in weeks and stare at your ceiling in confusion for a solid thirty seconds.
Then your phone lights up.
Seungcheol: 7pm. Don’t be late, doctor.
You smile before you can stop yourself.
The entire afternoon becomes embarrassingly unfamiliar territory for you because apparently you no longer know how to prepare for things outside hospital shifts.
You stand in front of your closet way too long. Reject three outfits. Reject four more and eventually settle on something simple but nice enough to make you feel human instead of clinically exhausted.
You even do your hair properly this time instead of throwing it up in survival mode.
When Seungcheol texts offering to pick you up, you refuse immediately. Mostly because the thought of him seeing you standing outside your apartment nervous makes you want to launch yourself into traffic.
So instead you agree to meet there.
The restaurant he picked is one of those impossible-to-book places tucked between city streets glowing warm with hanging lights and low music.
Packed even on a Friday evening. The kind of place where conversations melt together softly and plates constantly clink against tables.
Then the restaurant doors open.
And there he is. Black button-up. Sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms. Dark jeans. Hair slightly damp like he showered quickly before coming.
You hate how immediately your stomach flips.
His eyes find you almost instantly across the restaurant.
Then soften like seeing you relaxes something in him automatically.
God help you.
He reaches the table and pauses just long enough to look you over openly.
“You look pretty.”
Straight to the point. No hesitation. You blink once at the sincerity of it.
Then recover enough to smirk lightly.
“You clean up well yourself, Captain.”
“I tried.”
“I can tell.”
His dimples appear briefly when he pulls your chair out for you.
Oh you’re doomed. Absolutely doomed.
Dinner starts easily after that. Too easily.
Conversation flows without effort somehow.
You learn he drinks coffee black enough to qualify as chemical warfare. He learns you once fell asleep standing up during residency and scared an intern half to death. You tease him for being terrifyingly observant. He teases you for pretending not to care while clearly caring a lot.
The food arrives eventually and thankfully lives up to the hype.
At one point you’re halfway through laughing because he admitted Minho once accidentally set off an alarm during training—
Then his phone rings.
Everything changes instantly.
You see it happen in real time. His posture straightens before he even answers.
Eyes sharpen. Expression hardens.
Soldier.
He checks the caller ID once and immediately stands.
“Excuse me.”
You nod quietly. He answers the call a few steps away from the table.
“Yes sir.”
Pause.
“I understand.”
Another pause.
“I’m on my way.”
By the time he hangs up, his jaw is tight. And when he looks back at you—
There it is.
That look.
You know it immediately. Too well.
You’ve worn it yourself after interrupted dinners, canceled holidays, sleepless nights.
Duty first. Always.
The guilt of leaving. The frustration of having no choice.
He walks back over quickly “Y/N, I—”
You smile before he can finish “Go.”
His expression tightens further
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s—” “Seungcheol.”
That makes him stop. You lean back slightly in your chair, softer now.
“I get it.” And you do.
Completely.
Because trauma surgery isn’t kind either. You’ve left meals untouched. Missed birthdays. Walked away from people mid-conversation because somebody somewhere stopped breathing.
You know what it means when lives depend on you showing up.
You’ve lived it. So you just smile gently and say:
“Duty calls.”
Something in his expression shifts at that. Like relief mixed with something heavier.
“We can reschedule,” you continue lightly. “Seriously. It’s fine.”
For a second he just looks at you like maybe he expected disappointment or anger or someone who wouldn’t understand this part of him.
Instead you simply hand him an easy out. No guilt attached.
“You sure?” he asks quietly
You nod once “Go save the world, Captain.”
A breath of a laugh leaves him. Then he reaches for his wallet immediately. You open your mouth to protest.
“Don’t,” he says. You close it again. He pays quickly, apologizes to the waiter, then turns back to you one last time.
“You’ll text me when you get home?” There it is again. Even rushing toward danger, he’s still making sure you’re okay first.
You smile softly “Yes, Captain”
He stares at you for one second then laughs despite himself.
“Troublemaker.”
“Go.”
Reluctantly, he does. You watch him disappear through the restaurant doors.
A few moments later you hear it, the deep rev of his motorcycle outside. Then it fades rapidly into the night as he speeds away toward whatever emergency dragged him from dinner.
And strangely enough you don’t feel upset.
Disappointed maybe. A little. But not because of him, mainly because you wanted to spend more time with him.
But mostly you understand him now maybe more than either of you expected.
=
Thirteen weeks pass after the interrupted dinner. 91 Day.
Thirteen long, busy, exhausting weeks.
At first, you check your phone more than you should. Not obsessively. Just… enough to annoy yourself.
A part of you knows better.
Captain Choi Seungcheol warned you from the start without really saying it outright.
Covert assignments. Deployments. Disappearances.
The kind of job where silence sometimes means safety.
Then two days after your date, the news breaks.
Some international incident overseas. Nothing detailed. Just enough military presence mentioned for your stomach to twist unpleasantly.
You stare at the television mounted in the hospital cafeteria longer than necessary.
Then force yourself back to work because that’s what both of you do, apparently.
You throw yourself into surgeries. Into consults. Into twenty-hour shifts and caffeine and organized chaos. And eventually you stop expecting texts.
Stop glancing at your phone every hour.
You accept it quietly.
This is what being involved with someone like him means.
Long silences. Uncertainty. Waiting without asking questions.
Still, sometimes late at night between cases, you think about him.
About dimples and smug smiles and black motorcycles disappearing into the dark.
And annoyingly enough—
You miss him.
Which feels absurd considering technically you only had one almost-date.
Tonight the ER is chaos again.
Not trauma-level chaos. Just deeply irritating chaos.
A group of men got into a massive fight outside some nightclub and now half of them are crowded into emergency bays drunk, bleeding, loud, and incredibly uncooperative.
One has a broken nose. Another possibly fractured ribs. One guy keeps trying to flirt with nurses while actively vomiting.
You’re already tired.
Now you’re tired and annoyed.
“Sit still,” you say sharply while trying to examine a cut above one patient’s eyebrow
The man smells aggressively like alcohol.
“I’m fine,” he slurs
“You’re bleeding on my floor.”
“You’re pretty.”
“And you’re concussed.”
One of the nearby guards snorts quietly. The drunk patient suddenly jerks his arm away.
You grab for gauze before it falls and the man shoves you unexpectedly.
Everything happens fast.
Your balance tips backward instantly. You’re already mentally calculating how badly this floor is about to hurt when a solid arm catches you around the waist before you hit the ground.
Firm. Steady. Immovable.
You inhale sharply. The familiar scent hits first.
Soap. Leather. Cold night air.
Then warmth.
You look up immediately.
And your heart nearly stops.
Captain Choi Seungcheol stands behind you in full uniform. Not casual clothes. Not civilian. Uniform.
Dark tactical gear still dusted faintly with dirt like he came straight from somewhere far away.
Broad shoulders. Heavy boots. Black gloves.
And his face—Jesus. He looks terrifying. Cold enough to freeze the entire room.
The guards straighten instantly.bEven the drunk men go quieter.
Seungcheol barely notices any of them at first. His eyes scan you rapidly instead.
“You hurt?” The question comes immediately.
Your brain short-circuits slightly because he’s here. Actually here.
You blink once “I’m fine.”
His hand remains firm at your waist another second longer like confirming it himself. Only when he’s certain you’re steady does he move. Then suddenly you’re being guided gently behind him.
Protected instinctively.
The shift is so natural it almost startles you.
Seungcheol steps between you and the drunk patient completely.
The room changes instantly.
The drunk guy straightens defensively. “Who the hell are—”
“Sit down.”
The command slices through the ER. Absolutely lethal underneath.
The man actually hesitates.
Seungcheol’s gaze locks onto him steadily “You assaulted medical staff.”
“I barely touched—” “You put your hands on a doctor while intoxicated inside an emergency department.”
“You will sit down,” he says evenly, “and you will cooperate with treatment.”
The drunk man scoffs weakly. “Or what?”
Behind Seungcheol, you almost sigh. Poor idiot.
Because you’ve seen that look before now. The hypercontrolled one. The one soldiers get when violence becomes an option they’re actively suppressing.
Seungcheol tilts his head slightly.
“Or security removes you,” he says calmly. “And I become significantly less polite.”
Then immediately the drunk man sits.
One of the guards coughs suspiciously like he’s hiding laughter. You cross your arms behind Seungcheol, trying very hard not to look affected.
Failing horribly.
Because good lord.
There’s something deeply unfair about this man appearing out of nowhere looking like a military recruitment poster designed specifically to ruin your emotional stability.
The patient mutters curses under his breath but stays seated now.
Seungcheol waits another moment before finally turning back toward you. And instantly his expression changes again.
Softer.
Like the terrifying soldier disappeared the second he looked at you.
“You sure you’re okay?”
You stare at him.
Weeks of no messages. No calls. Then suddenly he’s here catching you mid-fall like some absurd action movie entrance.
Your brain struggles briefly.
“You vanished,” you blurt out before thinking.
His eyes flicker slightly “I know.”
The answer is quiet and annoyingly sincere.
You open your mouth then another patient across the room starts yelling.
The universe truly hates timing.
Seungcheol notices immediately and huffs the tiniest breath of amusement.
“You’re busy.”
“You think?”
His gaze lingers on your face a second longer.
Then lower. To your wrist. Very gently, he adjusts the sleeve of your coat where the drunk patient grabbed you like he’s making sure you’re unharmed without making a scene about it.
Your pulse betrays you instantly.
“I just landed,” he says quietly. “Came straight here.”
Before you can answer, one of the nurses suddenly appears beside you looking between both of you with absolutely shameless curiosity.
“Doctor,” she says carefully, “Trauma 1 needs you.”
Of course they do.
You exhale through your nose. Then look back at Seungcheol.
He steps aside immediately.
“I’ll wait,” he says.
And for the first time in three exhausting weeks you smile without even trying to stop it.
Seungcheol stays near the edge of the nurses’ station after you leave him there, broad shoulders still carrying traces of travel and exhaustion from deployment.
He should probably report back first. Should probably head home. Should probably sleep after nearly twenty hours in transit.
Instead he’s standing in a crowded emergency room at almost midnight watching a trauma surgeon terrify grown men.
His eyes follow you automatically. Always finding you no matter how chaotic the room gets.
You move fast.
A nurse meets you halfway with charts already open and you barely glance down before issuing orders.
“Get repeat vitals on Bed 6.”
“Where’s radiology?”
“Page ortho again and tell them if they ignore me this time I’m dragging them down here myself.”
“Yes doctor.”
Another patient starts yelling about pain medication. You don’t even look up from stitching a split lip.
“You threw a chair at a paramedic fifteen minutes ago,” you say calmly. “You can survive five more minutes.”
The patient immediately quiets.
One of the residents beside you mutters, “Scary.”
You hear it “Then stop forgetting chart updates.”
“Yes doctor.”
Seungcheol almost laughs because there it is again.
That switch. The same one he saw the first day in the hallway when you were covered in blood kneeling over a crashing patient.
The terrifying competence. You become sharper under pressure. Like chaos organizes itself around you instead of the other way around.
It’s familiar to him. Too familiar. In military operations, the best leaders aren’t the loudest. They’re the calmest when everyone else starts panicking.
And youu command this emergency room exactly like that.
People move when you speak because they know you know what you’re doing.
A drunk patient suddenly grabs at a nurse’s wrist aggressively.
Seungcheol straightens immediately on instinct. But before he can move you’re already there.
“Hands off her.” Your voice cuts through the room cleanly
The patient scoffs drunkenly “Relax sweetheart—”
“Security.” The single word lands like a gunshot. Two guards instantly move forward.
The patient starts protesting immediately but you don’t even spare him another glance, already turning back toward your nurse.
“You okay?”
The nurse nods quickly. You squeeze her shoulder once before continuing down the row of beds like nothing happened.
One of the security guards near him notices where he’s looking and chuckles quietly.
“Dr. Y/L/N is usually scary,” the older man says knowingly.
Seungcheol’s eyes remain on you. You’re currently arguing with a resident twice your size while simultaneously putting pressure on someone’s bleeding shoulder.
“Mm.”
The guard grins. “Whole ER’s terrified of her when she gets like this.”
Across the room you snap your fingers toward another doctor “You. Gloves. Now.”
“Yes doctor.”
The guard laughs harder “See?”
But Seungcheol just watches you. Really watches you.
God.
To everyone else in this room, you probably do look intimidating.
Untouchable almost.
But to him you’re the prettiest thing he’s seen in weeks.
Maybe ever.
And that realization hits him with genuinely embarrassing force because Captain Choi Seungcheol has spent years avoiding attachment.
It’s easier that way.
His work requires distance, disappearing without explanations, accepting that one day he might not come back from deployment at all.
People like him don’t build stable relationships.
He learned that early. Yet here he is. Standing in a hospital ER watching you bully drunk patients and overworked residents with stars practically in his eyes.
Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless.
As if sensing him watching, you glance up suddenly from across the room.
Your eyes meet his immediately and your whole face changes. Just subtly softer around the edges.
Enough that he notices his chest tightens unpleasantly.
You mouth something that looks suspiciously like: You okay?
Seungcheol nods once.
Your gaze lingers another second before you’re pulled away again by a nurse waving scans at you urgently.
The security guard beside him whistles low.
“…Oh.”
Seungcheol doesn’t bother asking what that means.
Because honestly? He knows. For a man trained to read threats, surveillance patterns, battlefield movement… It’s humiliatingly obvious.
Captain Choi Seungcheol is completely done for.
By the time he gets back to base, it’s nearly 3 a.m. Technically, his day should’ve ended hours ago. Instead, he spent the last several hours lingering in your ER while pretending he wasn’t waiting specifically for your shift to end.
You noticed, obviously.
Around midnight you finally walked over to him still carrying charts under one arm and said, “You know normal people go home and sleep.”
“I was making sure nobody pushed you again.”
Your eyes softened immediately at that. Which honestly felt more dangerous than any deployment he’s survived.
Eventually around two in the morning, your shift finally ended and for the first time since knowing you, Seungcheol saw you genuinely exhausted.
Actually exhausted.
Your steps slower. Eyes heavy. Hair half falling from your bun. You still tried to argue with him outside the hospital though.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
“It’s 2 a.m.”
“I’m not getting on your death machine.”
He blinked once “Death machine?”
“Your motorcycle”
“That hurts my feelings”
“It should”
He almost laughed right there in the parking lot. Then finally sighed and held up his keys.
“I took the car tonight.”
You stopped, narrowing your eyes suspiciously.
“…You own a car?”
“I’m capable of normal civilian behavior occasionally”
“Debatable.”
The drive starts quiet. Streetlights passing across your tired face in brief golden flashes.
At first you try staying awake. You really do. You ask him something about whether military cafeterias are actually as bad as people claim.
He asks if all surgeons survive entirely on caffeine and spite.
You laugh softly at that. Then gradually your replies get slower. Quieter. By the fourth red light, he glances over and realizes your eyes are barely open anymore.
“You can sleep” he says quietly
“M’not sleepin”
“You just lost a fight with your seatbelt five seconds ago”
“No I didn’t” You immediately drift sideways against the window.
A minute later you mumble, barely coherent “Address…” You unlock your phone halfway, fail, then eventually just type your apartment address into the dashboard navigation with sleepy determination.
After that? Done. Completely out cold within five minutes. No hesitation. No worry. Just trust.
It hits him strangely hard because people don’t usually fall asleep around him that easily. But you, you simply curled slightly into the passenger seat and slept. Like some exhausted part of you already decided he was safe.
Seungcheol drives slower after that. Careful over speed bumps. One hand steady on the wheel while city lights blur past the windshield.
At one point you shift in your sleep, face turning slightly toward him.
And God. He’s done for.
Absolutely catastrophically done for.
When he reaches your apartment building, he debates waking you immediately.
Instead he sits there for a second. Just looking.
Your face finally relaxed without hospital stress tightening your features. Soft breathing.
You look younger while asleep. Nothing like the terrifying trauma surgeon ordering residents around an ER.
Eventually he reaches over carefully.
“Y/N.” You make a tiny sound but don’t wake
His mouth twitches.
“Doctor.” Still nothing.
Then finally,
“Pretty girl”
Your eyes crack open instantly. Seungcheol nearly laughs at your betrayed expression.
“You’re evil” you mumble sleepily
“You drool when you sleep”
“I hate you”
“Sure”
You grumble under your breath the entire way to your apartment entrance while half asleep.bHe waits until you unlock your door safely.
Only before stepping inside, you turn back toward him.
Hair messy. Eyes barely open.
Beautiful.
“Text me when you get back” Then you disappear inside before he can even answer properly.
And now hours later, Seungcheol closes the office door inside the base quietly, exhausted down to the bone.
He tosses his keys onto the desk. Rolls tension from his shoulders.
Finally alone or so he thinks.
“…So”
Seungcheol freezes instantly.
A figure emerges from the darkness of the office couch like an actual demon. Minho sits there with the most evil grin imaginable and a convenience store drink in hand.
Seungcheol stares “How long have you been there?”
“Long enough”
“You’re creepy.”
“And you,” Minho says while pointing dramatically, “are in love.”
Seungcheol immediately starts walking toward the coffee machine instead
“No.”
“Captain Choi Seungcheol voluntarily drove a woman home in his car instead of disappearing into the void after deployment.”
“She was tired”
“She fell asleep in your car?”
Silence. Minho gasps loudly. “Oh my GOD she fell asleep in your car”
“She works thirty hour shifts”
“She TRUSTS you”
“She was exhausted”
“You looked at her while she slept, didn’t you?” Seungcheol pauses for one fatal second. Minho screams.
“YOU DID!”
“Keep your voice down”
“You’re smiling!”
“I’m not”
“You literally have heart eyes right now.”
Seungcheol rubs one hand down his face tiredly whiich unfortunately only confirms everything further.
Minho jumps off the couch immediatel “This is insane. Captain Emotionally Unavailable actually caught feelings.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You drove slower because she was sleeping, didn’t you?”
Silence again.
Minho points aggressively. “Pathetic”
“She asked me to text her when I got back.”
That shuts Minho up immediately. Then slowly his grin returns ten times worse.
“Oh,” he says softly “Oh you’re both gone”
Seungcheol exhales heavily and pulls out his phone despite himself.bOne unread message already waits there.
you: did u get back safe or did the military finally lose their best employee
His chest does something deeply embarrassing. Minho watches his expression carefully then cackles loud enough to wake the entire base.
Minho is still laughing when Seungcheol finally drops heavily into the office chair.
Outside the office windows, the base is mostly quiet at this hour. A few distant footsteps. Radios crackling somewhere down the hall.
Meanwhile his best friend is having the time of his life watching him suffer.
“So,” Minho says while dragging a chair over dramatically, “tell me everything”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“Liar”
Seungcheol leans back and closes his eyes briefly.
Instant mistake.
Because immediately he thinks of your face.
Hair falling loose in the ER. Sharp eyes over surgical masks. Soft sleepy expression in his passenger seat.
“See?” Minho points aggressively. “You’re doing it again!”
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you stare into space like you’re hearing wedding bells.”
Seungcheol opens one eye slowly “I can still have you transferred.”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I absolutely would.”
“You’re too happy lately.”
That makes Seungcheol snort quietly despite himself.
Happy.
Strange word. Not one he usually associates with himself. His life is schedules and classified files and deployments that end with blood on tactical gloves.
Not… this.
Not waiting outside emergency rooms just to drive someone home.
Minho studies him for another second before suddenly asking:
“So how is it? she looked extra scary tonight?”
And annoyingly enough Seungcheol knows exactly what he means. He exhales slowly and drags one hand down his face.
“She does this thing,” he says before stopping himself.
Minho immediately lights up. “OH MY GOD THERE’S A THING.”
“Shut up.”
“No continue.”
Seungcheol stares at the ceiling for a second, Trying and failing to sound normal.
“When she’s focused,” he says quietly, “everything else disappears ”
His mind flashes back instantly.You standing in the middle of the ER chaos while everyone moved around you.
Blood on your gloves. Sharp voice cutting through noise. Completely locked in.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
Alive.
You're pretty when you're focused, in your element.
Then another image surfaces. You asleep in his passenger seat. Head tilted slightly toward him.
Trusting him enough to completely let go.
His chest tightens again at the memory.
And he can't help but think you're even prettier when you're like that, relaxed, void of any stress, just you.
Then the worst or best one really. The most dangerous one.
You looking at him. Not doctor-to-patient. Not teasing. Just… looking at him softly after recognizing him in that ER tonight.
Relief hidden in your eyes. Like you were genuinely happy he came back safe.
And that— that one nearly kills him.
“The prettiest,” Seungcheol says finally, voice quieter now, “when she looks at me.”
Silence. Absolute silence.
Then Minho slowly lowers his drink onto the desk “…There you go again.”
Seungcheol blinks once “What?”
“Floating away”
“I’m sitting right here”
“No,” Minho says dramatically while pointing at him, “physically yes. Spiritually? You’re holding hands with her in a sunflower field”
That actually makes Seungcheol laugh.
Minho stares at him in disbelief afterward then shakes his head slowly.
“I have never,” he says firmly, “and I mean never ever seen you like this.”
Seungcheol falls quiet again. Because honestly? Neither has he. He’s spent years carefully detached from people. Not cold just practical.
His job taught him early that attachment complicates survival.
You leave easier when nothing waits for you.
But now there’s suddenly a trauma surgeon with messy handwriting and terrifying leadership skills occupying his thoughts at three in the morning.
A woman who understands duty instead of resenting it. Who patched bullet wounds without flinching. Who fell asleep in his car like she trusted him instinctively.
And worst of all… he wants more.
More dinners.
More late-night drives.
More sarcastic comments thrown at him over coffee.
More of you looking at him like he came back.
Seungcheol exhales slowly through his nose “…This is bad.”
Minho immediately points at him again. “That is the face of a man already planning marriage.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
Seungcheol shakes his head once, but there’s no real denial left in it now because somewhere between the convenience store, the ER hallways, and you asleep in his passenger seat…
seungcheol's hand curls around your own as he tugs it over to him with no resistance, leaving you to try and type one-handed at your laptop for the moment. you don't ask questions (seungcheol has always been the kind to surprise you with little things like this), but you do look over to see that he's sporting his own matching ring to the one he's sliding onto one of your fingers. he looks up at you, hair hanging in his eyes, and grins before pressing his lips against the ring.
"it reminded me of you, so i got it." he lets go of your hand, and you hold it up to survey the ring. the pattern does seem like something you'd like, and this is far from the first pair of rings the two of you have bought for one another, so it's a perfect fit. "do you like it?"
"it's pretty," you hum, and your hand cups his jaw. "not as pretty as you, but pretty."
he just scrunches his nose in response, smiling as best as he can when you squish his face a little bit more. seungcheol frees himself easily enough, leaning over just to press a lingering kiss against the side of your face before he gets back up to go put away the rest of his little shopping haul. he'll tell you about the time he spent with friends once you're done with your work.
but you wait until he gets a few steps away to call out, "you don't love me enough to kiss me right?"
all it takes is the sound of his thundering steps for you to know you've got him, hook, line, and sinker. he leans over your chair to kiss you properly, and you feel the way he smiles against your lips before pulling away again with that damn twinkle in his eyes. "hi," he says softly. "i love you."
he's too easy sometimes to tease. you just smile, blowing him a kiss as he walks away. "love you, too, silly."
SYNOPSIS. When the world falls asleep, a certain radio broadcast goes live—one hosted by none other than you and your best friend Wen Junhui. The two of you host an anonymous love confession segment, where listeners submit their deepest feelings, secrets, and late-night loves they can’t say aloud for you to unravel live on air. However, when a recurring submission starts to feel too familiar, a certain someone finds themselves wondering how long they can stay anonymous… before they are finally heard.
PAIRING. radio host!wen junhui x radio host!fem!reader (ft. soonyoung as a comedic device)
GENRE. fluff, best friends to lovers, crack/humour, comfort, slight angst, smut (minors dni 🔞)
WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of toxic situations in relationships (situationships, cheating, love bombing), yn and jun are dumb asffff no wonder they're besties, jun feeling a lil insecure :(, lots of playful bickering and bullying, terms of endearment, kissing, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, they bully each other even while doing the deed 😭
WORD COUNT. 11.3k
notes: hellooo everyoneee, this is my fic for the @studiosvt First Time Caller collab! please don't forget to support all the amazing authors in the collab!! unfort this was so rushed and lowkey not proud of it SDFDS i completely forgot how to write while writing this since it was all during the stress of finals szn and other matters LMAO, but i love writing abt two stupid oblivious idiot besties who are secretly in love with each other 😔 not rlly proofread so i'm sorry for any mistakes !! there is also a skye @etherealyoungk cameo in here hehe
“No, no, no𑁋Wen Junhui, you’re being way too nice about this!” You exclaim mid-laugh, shaking your head as you lean in towards the mic. “If someone’s been stringing you along for six months with nothing but ‘I’m not ready for a relationship yet’ texts, then that’s just straight up terrorism. Not even a situationship, at this point.”
Jun lets out a laugh of his own and throws his head back, almost making his headphones nearly fall off his head. He readjusts quickly, dark hair messily falling over his forehead. The neon red of the bright ON LIVE sign on the wall behind his head casts an almost villain-like glow across his features, sharpening the curve of his already amused smile.
“Terrorism? Wow, tell us how you really feel, Y/N,” Jun retorts playfully. “But fine. Anon, if they’ve been feeding you breadcrumbs for half a year, that’s basically emotional warfare. Please save yourself and block them on everything𑁋and yes, that includes on Spotify.”
You snort at that, tapping your pen against your script notes that you’ve been barely following anyway. The show had practically devolved from advice to whatever banter you and Jun had cooked up on the spot. “Exactly. Listeners, if your situationship has an expiration date longer than expired milk, it’s time to toss it. Jun is too sweet to say it, so I’ll do it. Run.”
“I𑁋’too sweet’?!” A dramatic gasp tumbles out of Jun as he spins his chair toward you. “I was the one who told last week’s caller to roast her boyfriend’s dick like a marshmallow because he kept forgetting her birthday!”
“But you said it with, like, the sweetest voice ever!”
“That man deserved to get emotionally blue-balled! How can you forget your girlfriend’s own birthday for a second year in a row?”
You roll your eyes so hard it’s basically audible over the mic. “God, Junhui, you have the emotional range of a raccoon.”
“I’ll take it.” Jun grins at that, thrusting his shoulders back as if he’s trying to appear bigger and more intimidating. “At least raccoons are cute, right?”
On your laptop, the chat is going crazy.
user: here we go again with their flirty banter 🙄
user: JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY YOU TWO!!!!!!!!!
user: i swear this radio show is hosted by 2 delusional idiots
user: i think they should kiss idk
“No, we shouldn’t!” You exclaim at the chat like you’re scolding a bunch of twelve-year olds.
Jun nearly hops out of his seat. “Wait, I agree!”
“Wen Junhui!”
“What? I was agreeing with you!”
“That was not you agreeing with me,” You groan. “You agreed to kissing me.”
“Well, the chat started it, so don’t put all the blame on me,” Jun says with a pout, folding his arms together. “Plus, it would be good for research purposes, wouldn’t it?”
Your eyes bulge out of your skull, your mind and face flaming up. “You’re such a𑁋we host a radio show, not a damn lab!”
“Chemistry is still relevant! And chemistry is needed for relationships!”
“We are not in a relationship, oh my, God.”
“Hypothetically, Y/N. Think hypotheticals.” Jun clicks his tongue, letting out playful tsk-tsk-tsk. “I’m telling you our ratings would absolutely skyrocket.”
You fight back the smile threatening to split your face in half, but there’s no point in trying to battle it. After being best friends with Jun for most of your life and witnessing pretty much all the stupid shit he has ever said or done, you’ve long accepted that his brand of chaos is the only thing in this world that can make your chest too tight and too warm at the same time. Especially if it involves the playful flirting you’ve been bouncing on for years.
“Whatever, to answer your question𑁋raccoons are cute, but they’re also known for making stupid life decisions,” You point out with a victorious smirk. “So, maybe not the best comparison to make. It’s accurate, regardless.”
“Harsh,” he whines, but his eyes𑁋those stupid, unfairly expressive eyes of his𑁋sparkle with teasing delight. “Alright, onto the final submission of the night. Anonymous says…”
Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air,
I’ve been supporting the show since the very beginning, and now, I think I’m in trouble enough to make a submission.
I’m in love with my best friend. I have been for years and it struck me pretty hard this morning. Is it weird to say when I first met them it felt like love at first sight? We talk every day to the point that everyone assumes we’re together, but we’re not. They’re kind, funny, and sometimes I think they deserve someone better than me. But is it selfish of me to say that I want to keep them in my life forever? Even if that line isn’t crossed?
What should I do???
🐱
The studio falls silent for a few moments after Jun finishes reading. The shift in the air is immediately noticeable, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. When Jun picks his head back up to look at you after reading the confession, his usual smirk is still in place, but fades just a tad when he catches the contemplative expression on your face.
“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”
“Huh?” You blink back up at him. “Oh, shit. Right, uh…”
You can’t tell if it’s the late night hour getting to you or something else entirely. You’ve received so many similar confessions before𑁋a best friend falling in love with their other half, the slow and torturous ache of unspoken feelings, the fear of messing up something that’s already so beautiful itself. And ultimately, your advice has always stayed the same.
But when you meet eyes with Jun, it’s as if the words have completely cut your tongue off. You finally clear your throat.
“First of all, welcome cat anon to the club of people who are all vicariously and collectively screwed together,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish we hadn’t read yours at the very last minute since we’re about in end in five𑁋”
Jun lifts a brow. “Wait, we have about fifteen𑁋”
“𑁋but I’ll just say that you aren’t selfish for wanting to keep them in your life. But you are doing a disservice keeping it locked away forever. This kind of love doesn’t come around twice. So tell them, even if it scares you. What’s the worst that could happen, you know?”
You can feel Jun’s heavy gaze linger on the side of your face.
“Exactly, anon,” he jumps in like the professional he is. “Ripping the band-aid off would only hurt temporarily, right? And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll be here next week with some ice cream recommendations to help you cope.”
“Keep in mind what Jun said, guys,” You say, forcing a small laugh. “Thank you all for turning into Love On Air. Stay honest, stay unhinged, and send that one person a risky text. If you want to submit a confession, please send one to our email. We are live every Saturday on FM 98.7! Goodnight, everyone!”
You kill your microphone first as the ON LIVE sign on the wall blinks out with a soft click. Jun switches off his microphone right after, and the silence that washes over the studio is louder than anything else.
For a moment, neither of you moves.
You still feel the ghost of Jun’s gaze warm on your cheek from when you were giving advice just a minute ago. It’s silly, really𑁋how one singular anonymous confession is enough to make you think and contemplate so hard. You’ve given advice to more people than you can count on your hands and toes, but this specific one feels as if it grew limbs, crawled out of the screen, and sat itself between you and him.
“You rushed that ending,” Jun interrupts your thoughts as he swings his coat over his shoulders.
You scoff lightly. “I did not.”
“Did too.”
“I literally answered the question,” You shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s our job.”
“Exactly,” he hums in response, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his chin lazily in his palm. “You answered it like it was your first time ever hearing it.”
A pause.
“When it’s not.”
It’s not. But why𑁋out of all goddamn times you’ve read the same exact fear𑁋did this one feel like someone jabbed a finger at your chest and said: here, this is yours?
You force a laugh at that, letting out a deprecating shrug. “Maybe I’m just getting sentimental at my big age.”
“You’re literally younger than me.”
“Only by a few months. Your argument is irrelevant, grandpa.”
Jun tilts his head at your words, pushing himself off the table and invading your personal space as always. He stands only a step away from you, observing the way you’re speedily packing your belongings like some kind of punishment. When you face back up at him, he gives a light flick to your forehead. His touch lingers for a few seconds, before he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It’s playful and casual, but the way your skin tingles after isn’t.
Your heart does a stupid little flip in your chest.
“Come on, youngling, I’ll drive you home,” he says with a cheesy smile, dangling his car keys off his finger.
A groan leaves you as you allow him to drag you by the wrist and out of the studio.
To be honest, the radio show started off as one big fat joke.
It started in sophomore year of college, where you and Jun were nothing but a pair of dumb, broke college kids. Then you both decided to sign a quick gig for the campus radio station because you thought it would look good on your resumes. The two of you were supposed to do the boring music hour𑁋basically play whatever indie crap the station manager liked and read weather updates every morning.
But that didn’t exactly go as planned, as the majority of those sessions were spent with you both roasting each other’s music tastes live on air, and for some reason, the listeners seemed to eat that dynamic up.
In one particular session, Jun opened up the radio station email box live on air. You both expected for another complaint, which wasn’t uncommon knowing how immature the two of you act sometimes. However, it wasn’t a complaint this time.
It was a confession.
A girl had written about how she’d been in love with her roommate for the past two years and didn’t know how to voice it without ruining their lease together. Jun read it when his microphone was supposed to be switched off, and something in the studio shifted that night.
“Do… we answer it?” Jun had asked you warily.
You had hesitated for once, before a sudden surge of determination filled you. Perhaps it’s the delirium of two idiots who believed they could wing it, or the thought that a random person decided to reach out to both of you𑁋out of anyone else𑁋was the reason for the determination. Either way, you looked across at Jun that night and said, “Yeah. Let’s answer it.”
And that was that.
The rest of the semester became an absolute rollercoaster of love confessions, messy breakups, love bombers, situationships that made you want to pull your hair out, and the two of you slowly carving a name for yourselves as the unfiltered chaotic duo who gave sarcastic advice that came straight from the heart. The campus station extended their time slot, then the local radio station in the city picked the two of you up.
Somewhere along the way, and four years later, Love On Air stopped being a joke and became a real thing you and Jun committed together every Saturday at midnight𑁋your own little pocket of chaos in an otherwise normal adult life. For the most part, at least, because pining for your best friend is totally counted as normal.
Wen Junhui came into your life like a stray cat who decided that your doorstep looked comfortable enough to stay forever. Uninvited and unpredictable, way too pretty for his own good, yet somehow always exactly where you needed him to be. He randomly plopped down right next to you during freshman orientation, snatched the last macaron on your plate, and gave you a look that said you’d be fun to annoy for the next four years before introducing his name.
You’d never admit how absolutely starstruck you were the first time he smiled at you. Or laughed. You told yourself you were just sleep deprived and lonely being in the city all by yourself, but deep down, the voice in your head at that moment said that you wanted to keep him.
You should have been annoyed. But instead you laughed and nearly choked on your water, and that was it. Game over. And you became each other’s favourite person without either of you having to put a label on it. Best friend felt too small, and soulmate felt too big and scary for two broke college kids who couldn’t dedicate themselves to a single major.
So you just… existed together. Thrived together. Grew together through the most stupidest decisions known to mankind.
And at some point down the road, that stray cat curled up into your chest and refused to leave.
“Listeners, let’s give a full round of applause to user derangedcarat for cutting off their cheating ex-partner,” You announce into the microphone, clapping your hands like a proud mom at a recital. The chat explodes immediately.
user: 👏👏👏👏
user: FINALLY i’m so proud of u user derangedcarat queen
user: anyone who cheats on their partner needs to be put on death row
user: ^^^ preach!!!
“And you did the hard part, user derangedcarat,” Jun adds in. “We love growth in this household. Maybe email us a screenshot of the block so we can frame it in the studio here.”
“Exactly, and please don’t forget to take care of yourself,” You reassure into the microphone. “Block, delete, go touch some grass if you need to. You deserve someone who actually respects you.”
The next confessions run by in a blur over the next hour. Someone sends in a confession asking if it’s weird to still be hung on their high school ex, another person confesses that they’ve been naming their house plants after people who ghosted them, which the two of you undoubtedly praise for creativity.
To top off the chaos, there’s one submission an anonymous user submits with screenshots of cringe-worthy flirty text messages from a man they’re talking to, with the sender begging for the two of you to rate the messages on a scale of “smooth operator” to “immediate block”.
Jun narrows his eyes toward the screen. “Y/N, listen to this: ‘hey babygirl, how’s your night been? mine was spent thinking about u 😏’. Sent at 2:19 in the morning, left on read for three days.”
You burst out laughing, cheeks puffing out to the point it hurts. “Oh, my God. Solid negative five. That’s a biohazard right there.”
“That’s way too generous,” Jun snorts while spinning in his chair. “Anon, this man is serving nothing but expired milk. Please save yourself a headache and block his number.”
Heartbreak, confessions, and ridiculous stories𑁋you and Jun tag-team them over the next hour like strong duo you are, with the chatting eating up every particularly brutal line that leaves either of your mouths. This is what seems to happen when you give two nocturnal people a cup of bitter tar coffee and the free will to say whatever they please.
By the time the final minutes of the session comes, you and Jun decide to read out one last confession.
“...Cat anon is back with a follow-up confession.”
You perk up curiously at that. “Really? What does it say?”
Jun hesitates briefly, before clearing his throat.
Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air,
Hi, it’s me again. The one who wrote the other week. Thank you both so much for responding to me. I listened to every word you guys said, and I think you’re right. I was almost brave the other night𑁋had this whole stupid mental speech planned to tell them when we were hanging out together. But I… chickened out. Again. Really dumb of me, I know.
And I know that I look like a coward who needs a weekly pep talk, but this show feels like the only safe space I’m able to confess this. I do have a question for the two of you to answer and discuss.
Do you think there’s such a thing as ‘perfect love’?
I think that’s my dilemma right now. I want to be perfect for them. I want to give them that perfect love that they deserve. But how can I do that, knowing who I am?
🐱
The studio falls into a gentle kind of quiet after Jun finishes reading. The words are still processing deeply through your mind when he warily lifts his eyes back up at you, lingering on your concentrated expression. Then his heart stutters in his chest when you meet his eyes as if he got caught doing something wrong.
“Jun, why don’t you answer it first?”
Jun blinks, before shaking his head like he’s trying to clear away fog. He leans back in his chair and stretches his long arms up with a thoughtful sigh, enough for his hoodie to ride up just slightly for you to catch a sliver of skin. You try (and fail) not to notice, muting your microphone briefly to let out a cough into your hand.
“I mean, ‘perfect’ love is that type of stuff you read about in books or watch in movies, right?” He shrugs, letting his arms fall back down as his chair creaks softly beneath him. “Like no miscommunication, no timing issues, no one being stupid… which already disqualifies most of humanity, honestly.”
You lean back in to unmute your microphone. “Are you saying you’re part of that disqualification?”
“Absolutely, I’m the poster child for it,” he claims with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “I constantly forget shit, I’m nocturnal as hell, and sometimes I make objectively terrible decisions. Who would want to date me?”
The question lands a little too easily, maybe even familiar, sending an uncomfortable ripple you feel all the way down to your toes. Something about the way it left his mouth without any hesitation sends a painful grip to your heartstrings. Jun has always had this kind of self-deprecating humour, tossing it out like it was nothing at times. It makes you want to one: shake reality into him, or two: kiss him to prove him wrong.
You force out an awkward laugh, higher than it needs to be.
“Someone with terrible taste, clearly,” You answer, keeping your voice teasing despite the heaviness in your chest. “But luckily for you, the world is full of people with terrible taste.”
Jun chuckles, spinning his chair so he could study you properly.
“Yeah?” He tilts his head. “You think so?”
The chat is moving so fast now it’s basically a complete blur.
user: bro really asked who would date him while staring at his wife
user: why is he so boyfriend coded still tho
user: y/n should answer the question too!!!
user: PERFECT LOVE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT EACH OTHER STOPPP RNN
“Chat is right,” Jun quips. “What’s your answer to the question too, Y/N?”
The second the question leaves him, you can feel every pair of invisible eyes staring at you through the screen and your pulse kicking up loudly in your ears. Jun is still leaning back in his chair, relaxed as ever, his curious gaze fixed solely on you.
Finally, you clear your throat.
“Well, I’ve seen couples break up because their relationship isn’t ‘perfect’,” You begin. “But the ones that last? They’re the ones where both sides are a little flawed, a little messy, and a little scared, but they choose each other anyway. That’s what you would call an imperfect love, and… I think that’s the most beautiful kind of love that can exist.”
Suddenly, the tiny studio feels almost suffocating to sit in. Your eyes flick up to Jun. He isn’t laughing anymore, or even smiling. He’s just staring at you with an expression so open𑁋almost surprised, like he didn’t expect you to be so serious𑁋it steals the rest of your answer out of your throat.
You refuse to look at the chat; you already know what they’re saying.
“You really thought about it a lot, huh?” Jun asks, scratching at the back of his neck.
You could only manage a small, somewhat self-conscious nod, bringing your eyes down to the ground. “Yeah. Guess I have.”
A wave of silence washes over the studio for a minute.
“...it’s a really good answer,” he murmurs.
A pleased smile crosses over your face. “Well, I am kinda a professional at this.”
“Mm,” he hums absentmindedly in response.
You pretend to busy yourself with your laptop, trying to read over the chat that has now morphed into just meaningless spams of screaming text and heart emojis. Your cursor lingers over nothing, while your heartbeat is running a full blown marathon of panic.
But when you glance back at Jun, the panic seems to strengthen even more.
“Cat anon, we really appreciate your trust in us,” You finish softly. “And I really hope that our advice tonight resonates with you. At the end of day, we’re all just a bunch of flawed humans looking for love, right? Don’t drive yourself to be perfect, because you’re already perfectly imperfect just as you are. And if your best friend reciprocates these feelings…”
Your eyes flit back up to Jun.
“...then take the leap, because they’re probably already waiting for you.”
After a pause, you lightly kick Jun’s foot underneath the table. He jolts in his seat like you shocked him, before recovering with a nervous, boyish chuckle, sounding not even close to his usual, bright and effortless laugh. For once, he appears almost rattled, with his pupils wide and his ears pink that even the dim studio lights can hardly hide.
On the wall, the ON LIVE sign flickers in and out of its glow.
“She’s, um… Y/N is right, cat anon,” Jun agrees quietly. “You don’t have to become someone else to prove yourself worthy for someone. If they’re your person, then… who you are already is why they stayed this long.”
From that, the chat practically combusts.
user: WEN JUNHUI???? IS THERE SOMETHING U WANNA SHARE W THE CLASS???
user: why did this suddenly get so intense lmao is it hot in here or is it just me?
user: i’ve been on this ship since the beginning of the show!!!!
“Alright, that’s all the time we have for tonight,” You interrupt quickly, instinctively switching back to host mode. “Thank you to everyone who sent in your confessions tonight. Stay safe, stay honest, and please don’t respond to someone who sends you a babygirl text at ungodly hours.”
Jun reaches for the switch. “Goodnight, everyone!”
Click. The ON LIVE sign dies.
Jun slides the headphones off his head and shuts down his laptop. You do the same. The two of you pack up belongings in that familiar and companionable silence that always spills into the room after a session. When you swing your bag over your shoulder, Jun glances up in your direction worriedly.
“You okay?” he asks.
You nod, offering him a small, sleepy smile. “Take me home?”
Jun swallows down the lump in his throat.
“Yeah.” He’s already opening the door for you. “Always.”
Jun remembers one of the first discussions the two of you had on the show together.
Love at first sight.
Back then, the studio was smaller, scrappier, and the chairs squeaked each time either of you moved even a centimetre. The world had fallen asleep long enough that honesty slipped through the cracks of your voices so easily. You both were running on nothing but instant noodles and caffeine, way different than the semi-functional adult routine you have established now.
He remembers the beautiful laugh that left you when the question came in halfway through a song neither of you remembered choosing.
He laughed with you too. Rolled his eyes and called it nonsense, all while pretending to not notice how your smile had gone a little soft when you answered it with that amused lilt to your voice.
“I think it exists,” You had said. “Not like movie magic, though. But… you just meet someone and your brain clicks into place, you know? Like it says, ‘Oh. It’s you.’”
“That sounds like you’re trying to make shit up to justify bad decisions,” Jun argued back with a smirk.
You gasped at that and slapped his wrist, causing him to laugh. “Excuse me? That was uncalled for.”
And the segment moved on after that.
But Jun continues to carry that sentence with him like a permanent scar.
Oh. It’s you.
“What are the chances that a confession we’ve read out is from someone we know?” Jun asks while plopping a chip in his mouth, adjusting his body from where he had been sprawled across your couch for the past few hours.
You don’t bother to spare a glance up from your laptop, but a grin crosses your features. “Pretty high, to be honest. Soonyoung once told me he submitted something to the show one time.”
Jun nearly chokes on the chip scratching at his throat. “Soonyoung? As in Kwon Soonyoung? Never shuts up, Soonyoung?” He sits up so fast he accidentally knicks his socked foot under the coffee table. “Ow! I𑁋What the hell did he confess? Was it about that girl in his dance class that was drooling over him?”
You finally look over at him, chuckling at the way his eyes have grown comically wide. “He didn’t say. Just that he sent it under a funny username and almost died when we read it out. Apparently, we just straight up told him to stop being a coward and talk to her. They went on one date together. He found out she was allergic to cats and broke her heart by saying they were incompatible. End of story.”
Jun stares at you for a full blown three seconds, before he throws his head back into the couch with a laugh so genuine you would think his soul left his body completely.
“That’s insane,” he says breathlessly. “Literally the most Soonyoung thing to do. No wonder he’s still single.”
“Actually, he’s not,” You chime back in. “I think he’s dating this new girl named… Skye, I think?”
“Sky?”
“Skye, but with an e at the end.”
“Wow,” Jun mutters, crunching down on another chip and sarcastically adds, “Character development. We love to see it.”
You roll your eyes, shutting down your laptop with a click and leaning back into the couch with Jun right next to you. You curl your knees up to your chest. “People change, Jun. Miracles happen.”
Jun offers you the bag of chips. You take one, crunching absentmindedly as your gaze travels somewhere past the TV, past the wall, past everything. He notices. Of course he does. A nudge to your leg awakens you quickly.
“Where’d you go just now?” he asks.
“Nowhere.”
Jun huffs. “Liar.”
You flick a crumb at him. “Shut up.”
“Make me,” he retorts with a lazy grin, sticking his tongue out.
You shoot a glare at him and snatch the bag of chips from his hand before he can react. A scandalised look splits his face as he lunges to grab it back from your grasp, but you manage to twist your body away and dodge his reach.
“Hey!” he exclaims, attempting to grab the back once more but you clutch it tightly to your chest. “Give that back to me!”
You yelp and scramble further into the arm of the couch, shoulders shaking with laughter as you hug the back tight enough to crush some of the chips inside. “You stole this from my pantry!”
When his fingers brush the corner of the bag, you only yank it away again. Jun narrows his eyes at you, lips twitching upwards like he’s trying not to laugh.
“Y/N.”
“No.”
“Y/N.”
“Junhui.”
“You’re being annoying on purpose.”
“And you love me for it,” You remark, sticking your tongue at him back mockingly.
That does it.
As he makes a dive for it again, you twist a little too far. The next thing you know, you’re collapsing back against the couch cushions with a soft oof, and Jun is falling down with you. Very much ungracefully.
Because one second he’s reaching, the next he finds himself tumbling down over you in a tangle of limbs and laughter, somehow managing to catch himself just beside your head before he can actually crush you into the couch. And he’s way too close.
His knee presses into the cushion in between your legs, while his hand is planted by the side of your head. His dark hair has fallen slightly into his eyes, and his breath comes out unevenly from the laughing.
Your own breathing isn’t exactly steady either.
Jun looks down at you. You look back up at him. Your apartment suddenly feels fifty times smaller, and the laughter dies instantly, replaced by a familiar heaviness in the air whenever the two of you are alone together. His eyes drop down to your lips for a singular second before flicking back up to your face, and you catch the way his ears redden in slight guilt.
You swallow down a lump in your throat. “Jun…”
And from that split second of vulnerability, he uses that opportunity to snatch the bag of chips right off your hands, catching you completely off-guard. The warmth in the air still lingers even as he pulls away from you and flops back down on the couch.
“Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly. “Victory is mine!”
You stare at him in disbelief before letting out the loudest, most offended noise imaginable as you smack his shoulder.
“Wen Junhui!”
“Hm? Sorry, I can’t hear you over the savoury taste of victory,” he quips with a grin, face beaming with pride.
“You’re such a little thief𑁋”
“You hesitated!” he argues smugly. “So that’s on you!”
“Because you were staring at me all weird!”
That makes him shut up, the smugness fading off his face so abruptly as if you accidentally powered something in his system off. The apartment goes quiet enough for you to only hear the soft buzz of the refrigerator and the honk of a car outside. You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Or maybe you did, you don’t know.
“I…” You utter weakly, trying to brush it away with a nervous chuckle. “Can we just pretend I spontaneously combusted instead?”
A soft, disbelieving laugh leaves him. “I’m sorry.”
“What?”
“For… looking at you all weird.”
“Jun𑁋”
“I think I’ll get going. It’s getting late,” he mutters, immediately standing up a little too fast. He grabs the bag of chips instinctively, realises it’s still in his hands, and sets it back down on your coffee table awkwardly.
He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his hoodie and keys, moving with a surprising speed that even your own brain can barely process what to say. When he’s scrambling to the door, you move before you think, and you grab him by the wrist before he can unlock your door.
Jun feels his pulse jump harder under your fingertips. Twisting himself back around, he’s met with your soft yet worried gaze, before flicking down to where your hand is still wrapped around his wrist. You release him immediately like you accidentally touched fire.
“Sorry,” You murmur, taking a small step back. “Just… text me when you get home, okay?”
He nods solemnly. “Yeah. Of course.” A sheepish smile graces his lips for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”
“Goodnight, Jun.”
You close the door with a quiet click that somehow is louder than it should be. Now, you’re all alone in your apartment, yet the warmth of his presence still lingers through every part of your place. He’s been in here a thousand times𑁋hell, you both have slept in the same bed together a plentiful amount during all the times he’s trespassed in your space𑁋but tonight it feels like there’s a literal dent in the air itself.
The two of you have shared many awkward moments together. He’s accidentally walked in on you changing a few times; you’ve seen him stress-eat an entire family-sized bag of shrimp chips at four in the morning. You both have seen each other at some of your lowest points, but why, out of all nights, does it hit harder than anything else?
You sink back into the couch with a groan. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. Then𑁋
Buzz.
[12:55am | menace (affectionate)]
i just got home
you okay?
You stare at his message for a long moment.
[12:57am | y/n]
good
and yeah, i’m fine. you?
[12:58am | menace (affectionate)]
splendid! and … tired
[12:58am | y/n]
go sleep then dumbass
[12:59am | menace (affectionate)]
alright mother calm down i’m brushing my teeth
A low giggle leaves you at his response. A few minutes pass before a new text from him lights up your phone.
[01:05am | menace (affectionate)]
can i ask you something really random?
[01:05am | y/n]
of course
The typing bubble appears, disappears, then reappears again.
[01:07am | menace (affectionate)]
do you think cat anon is okay?
A sinking feeling opens a pit in your stomach, thumb frozen over your keyboard. You stare at the screen until the words begin to blur. God, of all the questions he had to ask tonight…
[01:10am | y/n]
i don’t know
i hope so
and that they learn it’s okay to be brave
[01:12am | menace (affectionate)]
yeah. me too
You’re hardly able to think when his next text comes in quicker than you expected.
[01:12am | menace (affectionate)]
goodnight y/n
don’t overthink in your sleep
You smile faintly.
[01:13am | y/n]
no promises
goodnight jun
You lock your phone after that with a tired sigh, tossing it onto the couch cushion besides you like it might bite you back if you hold it for too long. And somewhere on the other side of the city, another phone is tossed away like a shameful piece of evidence.
As you stare blankly at your dark television and feel the exhaustion of the day weighing between your bones, you know that sleep won’t come easy tonight. It becomes even more challenging even after you brush your teeth, wash your face, doomscroll on your phone for a while, and face plant onto the bed like you just came home from a wounded battle.
“Pathetic,” You mumble into your pillow to absolutely nobody. “I’m so pathetic.”
On the other hand, Jun is… doing the exact same thing.
His ceiling fan spins lazily overhead while his phone screen dims beside him. The last text message you sent to him spirals through the air around him. He doesn’t even know what to do but let out a muffled incredulous laugh into his pillow, sighs, before abruptly sitting up in bed and realising how much of a loser he’s acting right now.
“I should’ve…” Jun groans, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve just told her… I’m such a coward.”
Because the thing about running a late-night show where love is the main topic and advice is given, is that it’s painfully easy to tell strangers to be brave when your own heart isn’t on the line, when you’re not the aforementioned person in the story who is being pined over. It’s easy to take the leap when you aren’t standing at the edge yourself. Yet for some reason, it’s only harder to take the leap when you don’t even follow the advice you give to others.
The irony is quite laughable, to be honest.
Jun grabs his laptop and forces it open, the bright screen nearly blinding him in the darkness of his bedroom, but he doesn’t care. He finds himself navigating to his email, switching to his second account, and gets greeted by a particular message that had already been forwarded to the radio show. A message that had already been read, answered, and sent under a certain pseudonym.
Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air…
Biting down on his bottom lip, he opens up a fresh draft and begins typing.
“Take the leap, cat anon,” he repeats to himself over and over again. “Take the leap, Wen Junhui.”
Jun texted you two hours before the show that he was sick along with a selfie of him buried in a hoodie he threw on, somehow contracting a stomach bug which he blamed on some expired convenience store gimbap. He insisted that he could still come in, yet you reassured him with a string of sobbing emojis that it’s probably in his best interest to stay home to rest, and that you could handle hosting the show on your own, even if… you’ve never really done it before.
The show must go on, after all.
So when you find yourself sitting alone within the quiet studio just mere minutes from going live, you definitely sense both the physical and mental emptiness of his presence in the room a little too sharply. His headphones are still left the way he always leaves them, and his chair is facing the wrong wrong because he spins in it so much that he never bothers to put it back properly.
A small, fond chuckle leaves you at the thought of him, and you have to chase those thoughts away the second the clock strikes midnight. From there, you roll your shoulders back to shake away any residual nerves, clear your throat, and reach over to the switch.
Taking one last deep breath, you flip it on. The ON LIVE sign sparks to life on the wall.
“Good evening to all our fellow lonely and emotionally volatile listeners,” You greet warmly into the microphone. “Welcome back to everyone’s favourite unhinged radio show, Love On Air, live at midnight every Saturday on FM 98.7.”
Your eyes can barely keep track of the live chat box being spammed with incoming messages. You read a couple of messages out of people describing their day, but it isn’t long until the elephant in the room is acknowledged.
You snort lightly. “I regret to inform you all that Jun has passed away due to… alleged food poisoning.” Some comments following your words make you laugh. “Yes, yes, you’re all invited to the funeral, don’t worry.”
user: i commence a ritual to bring him back or we riot 🙏🙏
user: bro probably slept through his alarm honestly
user: WAIT BUT THIS FEELS SO WRONG W/O HIM 😭😭
user: rip… guess no husband and wife arguments for now… 😔
“He offered to join while sick, by the way,” You add in quickly. “But I personally vetoed it. I’m not letting a man who ate expired gimbap shit his way into a session. He’s probably listening in right now, so hi, Jun. Hope you’re still intact, buddy.”
After a few minutes of more interactions, you finally pull up the radio show’s inbox and begin to organise through the confessions that were received recently. That weird feeling creeps back up your spine once again as you scroll𑁋not about the confessions specifically, just the thought about doing this alone. Your eyes flick to the empty chair right next to you once more.
You read a few confessions and answer two callers𑁋there’s one from someone who felt bad for ghosting someone they actually liked, another person confesses they’re having a hard time with their partner wanting to open up their relationship, and one with expressing their fears of having their first time with the wrong person. You offer your own thoughtful answers and advice as best as you can, yet it feels so lackluster and flat without Jun’s playful interjections whenever you get too sappy on air.
“Your first time should be with someone who makes you feel safe, not just wanted,” You say gently into the microphone. “You deserve that. Don’t settle for anything less. It’s okay to wait until that safety feels undeniable.”
The chat floods with hearts and supportive messages. A few people send their thank yous for the advice. Some latecomers ask questions about Jun’s whereabouts.You smile gratefully, but it feels a little fragile tonight, not quite reaching up to your eyes.
As the final music break of the session ends, you unmute your microphone to speak.
“Alright, listeners, we’ve reached the final thirty minutes of tonight’s session. I want to thank you as always for staying up and listening into the show,” You announce confidently. “We’ve got time for… maybe a few more confessions and a possible lucky caller, so let’s see what we have left.”
Scrolling silently through the inbox, it isn’t long until your cursor hovers a familiar username once again. Your heart spikes at the sight, hesitating for a slow second.”
“Everyone, let’s welcome cat anon back to the stage with another follow-up confession.” You click the confession, take in a deep breath you’re sure the viewers can hear, and start to read it aloud.
Dear Y/N of Love On Air…
Hi, it’s me again. To be honest, I don’t really know why I keep sending these, but somehow I always end up back here again. You truly have a way of words, and I really want to thank you for that.
I thought about what you said about imperfect love. I used to think that if I fix every flaw about myself, then maybe I’ll be worthy of them, but now I know that love is someone seeing every fractured version of you, and staying anyway.
There’s something else I want to confess too. I think I’ve been waiting so long for the “perfect” moment that I accidentally passed a thousand “imperfect” ones. It makes me terrified that they’ll meet someone more braver than me, so I’ll use this chance now to be brave for once.
I’ll be ready on the line for this session and use this chance to finally face whatever happens next. I hope you’re able to answer my call whenever that may be. I have an important message to send.
🐱
Your voice comes out almost too quiet by the end you finish reading. You flit a quick glance to the ever-exploding live chat box.
user: HOLY SHITTT CAT ANON VOICE REVEAL???
user: answer the call! answer the call!
user: IM GONNA THROW UP WHY AM I SO NERVOUS
user: we’re witnessing a cinematic moment in history wtff
Suddenly, the blink of the call line makes your throat tighten. Your fingers hover over the console as if it might suddenly jump out and bite you. God, you don’t understand why you’re unexpectedly so nervous𑁋you’ve talked to many callers, and yet, speaking with cat anon has you on complete edge.
“Okay,” You stammer shakily into the microphone, covering up your nerves with a faint smile. “Let’s… let’s take this final call of the night, everyone.”
When you answer the line, it’s as if the world goes entirely mute, except for the intense pounding your chest. Nothing but static fills your headphones as the line struggles to connect for a few torturous moments.
Then, a quiet breath reverberates into your ears. The kind of breath that sounded like it had to claw its way out of someone’s chest.
“...hello?”
The voice is slightly distorted through the line, unmistakably low𑁋clearly a male voice𑁋and trembling slightly around the edges. It’s more of a whisper, if anything. Perhaps he’s just as nervous as you.
“Hi,” You greet warmly, slipping back into your professional radio voice. “You’re live on air with Love On Air. Is this… the one and only cat anon?”
A small, embarrassed huff of air crosses the line. He sounds a bit closer this time as he replies, “...yeah, it’s me.”
“Well, I’m giving you the floor now,” You assure firmly. “Whatever you need to say… we’re listening.”
Another shaky breath crackles through the line. You can practically touch the contemplation that’s buzzing through the call with your fingertips if that’s even possible, and even within the studio itself.
When the seconds of silence turn into a full-blown minute of consideration, the line crackles once more.
“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”
Your heart stops. Your mind draws a complete and utter blank. The abrupt clarity of his voice cuts through any lingering distortion and static and hits you like a wave. The world itself feels as if it’s tilted on its axis.
“Jun𑁋?”
“I love you,” he repeats more firmly this time, voice raw and full of everything he’s been holding back. “and I told you I was sick tonight because I couldn’t sit right next to you while you gave advice I was too scared to take. I just𑁋holy shit, I love you…”
Your mouth parts open in shock, then closes. The chat is going absolutely feral right now and you can barely read through all the comments without having this unusual urge to just slam your hand onto the console and pretend that you’re suffering from pure delirium.
On the wall, the ON AIR still glows stubbornly.
user: I FREAKING KNEW THAT CAT ANON WAS JUN
user: may i find this kind of love one day what the helly 🙏
user: Y/N ARE YOU BREATHING RIGHT NOW ????
user: our stupid oblivious hosts are in love. I CALLED it
You feel as if you almost have to squeeze your voice just to get it out. “Jun…”
On the other hand, he inhales sharply.
“...yeah?”
“You’re such an idiot,” You sputter out. “Do you have any idea how… how insane this is? Confessing on our show… using a pseudonym I gave advice to𑁋”
“I know.”
“𑁋after lying about being sick𑁋”
“I know.”
“𑁋and letting me sit here and talk about love like you weren’t the one I was talking to the whole time?” You ramble on out of a sheer mix of pure disbelief and relief, tightening your grip on the microphone. “Like all the advice I said wasn’t about… us?”
You hear some rapid shuffling on the other side, and you could almost imagine Jun sitting up in bed as if he’s received the most shocking news of his entire life. Then you hear his dazed laugh flowing into your ears.
“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “It was.”
Your breath catches embarrassingly hard and your face is completely on fire. The chat combusts once again, and you have to keep mentally reminding yourself that this entire interaction is live and half the city is probably listening in at this very second.
“From the first moment I saw you back in college,” Jun continues softly. “My heart and brain did the thing, you know? That you said before𑁋where you meet someone and all you can think is: Oh, it’s you. The second I saw you, I just… I knew I wanted to keep seeing you.”
You feel your eyes start to burn.
“I should’ve said it years ago, but I’m… I’m a coward. I know I am,” he mutters helplessly. “I know it’s stupid pretending to be cat anon because it was safer than telling my best friend I’m in love with her. Stupid that I… used to remind myself that I never deserved someone as bright as you. But anytime you told someone to suck it up and take the leap, I had to do it now or else I’d lose the chance and probably explode.”
He lets out a soft, breathless, disbelieving laugh of relief at the very end. Tears are streaming down your face at this point, but you don’t care.
user: IM PASSING TISSUES DOES ANYONE ELSE NEED ONE???
user: jun confessing his undying devoted love to y/n life is worth living again!!!!
user: i feel like a successful marriage counselor WTF
user: the solomon paradox is REAL
“Gosh, you’re…” You wipe a tear from your eye, murmuring weakly, “Your timing really needs to be studied, Jun.”
“Wait, wait, are you crying?” Jun asks worriedly in a fit of panic. “I didn’t mean to make you cry on air𑁋oh, my God, I can take it back, I can𑁋”
“You cannot ‘take this back’, you idiot!” You cut in immediately. “I’m crying because I’m in love with your stupid ass too! And if you don’t get here and finish the show with me, I’m absolutely going to lose the rest of my dignity.”
There’s a very long, suspicious beat of silence that passes. It’s enough to have you feel like you’re going through all the stages of grief in just a matter of seconds. And you swear on Jun’s life that if he doesn’t say something in the next minute, you might actually crash out and let the world witness your breakdown.
But reality snaps back in when you hear the sound of him nearly tripping on the other end of the line.
“I’m coming,” he reassures you. “I’m sprinting as fast as I can. Stay there for me, okay? Don’t finish the show without me.”
The line goes dead.
The night is quietly young as you and Jun step back into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind to finally cut out the rest of the world.
You still can barely process what just happened. First, Jun had texted you that he was quite literally shitting bricks for the entire day (which was a lie, thank goodness), then you somehow managed to host an entire segment all on your own without losing your sanity, and now the man you’ve been secretly in love for years had confessed to you𑁋live on air, alongside an entire audience of fellow love drunk listeners𑁋and is currently standing directly in front of you, wearing a hoodie he probably put on right before sprinting to the studio and a pair of pyjama sweatpants.
Jun doesn’t waste a single second. He steps up close to you and carefully wraps his long arms around you, the comforting scent of him quickly filling all your senses. He lets his forehead rest against yours, the two of you shutting your eyes together as you simply bask in each other’s presence.
“You’re real,” he murmurs, his hands trembling where they rest on your back. “I swear I thought I hallucinated the entire night. I need someone to pinch me if𑁋hey!”
You giggle at the way his face dramatically contorts with a pout, soothing his side with a gentle squeeze. You tilt your head enough to brush your nose against his.
“Then kiss me like I’m real, you idiot.”
For a moment, he just blinks like you spoke complete gibberish. Then he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, sending immediate shivers that make your knees weak. You let out a soft sigh into his mouth as the kiss deepens ever so slightly, your hands slowly sliding up his chest. You feel him chuckle against your lips.
As you kiss, you find yourself backing up in the direction of the couch. Jun follows without breaking contact with your mouth. When the backs of his knees hit the cushions, you both tumble down together in a clumsy, giggly heap with you on top of him, straddling him.
You brace your hands on his shoulders, and Jun’s arms lock around your waist instantly, holding you flush against him. And for a second, you both just… stare at each other.
Jun is the first to break, his eyes flitting back and forth between your eyes and lips as he doesn’t know where to look. “What?”
You bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide at how ridiculously cute and disheveled he looks right now, tilting your head at him like you’re pretending to study him. You lean in a little just to tease, and instinctively, he puckers his lips together, chasing after yours when you pull back away.
“I can’t believe how stupid we are,” You whisper, brushing his lips briefly in a feather-light peck. “Giving advice to everyone but ourselves. We wasted literal years.”
Jun chases after your mouth again, capturing it properly this time and pulling away with a satisfied hum. “Mhm. Absolute morons.” His hands find their way under your shirt, tenderly mapping the bare skin of your waist. “But I’m done wasting time now.”
You chuckle into the next kiss, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably as he tries to deepen it. God, his lips are so eagerly soft, but he’s smiling so hard you momentarily knock your teeth against his.
“Mm, wait,” You mumble against his mouth as you draw back to readjust your position, causing him to suck in a breath. “Are you trying to eat my face? Where’s the technique?”
He blinks up at you dazedly, mouth parted in playful offense. His hands tighten around your waist. “I𑁋excuse me?”
“Zero finesse. One star. I expected more from cat anon.”
Jun sits up suddenly so that you’re basically pressed chest-to-chest with each other.
“You’re too cute, that’s the problem,” he says, voice deep yet still a little rough around the edges. “How am I supposed to kiss you if I short-circuit and all I could think, holy shit, she’s mine?”
Your heart does a stupid little flip from his words. “Flattery won’t save your shitty technique.”
“Oh, yeah?” He cups your face with both hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Watch this.”
The next kiss is messier𑁋heated, giggly, and clumsy because you both can’t stop smiling. You feel your toes curl as he nips lightly at your bottom lip. You sigh into it, threading your hands through his hair, the heat of it enough to make you rock your hips against his growing hardness.
You feel the heat dancing up your skin and pooling into your belly as you continue your lazy grinding against him, swallowing down the broken sigh and groans that fall out of his mouth. When his mouth begins its descent down your jaw and to a particular sensitive spot behind your ear, he smirks against your warm skin.
“Fuck𑁋you like that?” he breathes out, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast underneath your shirt.
A shaky laugh leaves you, but it melts quickly into a soft moan when his thumb brushes your already-hardened nipple. “Don’t get cocky. Still𑁋mmh𑁋mediocre at best.”
Jun lifts his brow, mouth curved into a stupidly fond grin. “Mediocrity, huh?” He pinches your nipple gently, causing you to jerk your hips into his. “Your body is saying something different, baby.”
“Ignore her. She’s… a traitor,” You croak out, grinding against the hard line of his cock through his sweatpants.
Jun merely chuckles, tugging your shirt up enough to expose your chest. He unclips your bra without any hesitation, pushing the straps off your shoulders then letting it fall uselessly to the floor. His eyes widen as he takes a few seconds to drink you in completely.
“God, you’re so beautiful…”
Then his mouth is back on you. He sucks one nipple between his lips while his hand affectionately palms the other. A crude moan slips out of you this time; it heightens his confidence even more.
As his mouth lavishes attention to your other breast, he drags his hand down your side, teasingly sliding under the waistband of your pants to cup you over your pants. He can feel how warm you are already.
“Rating?” he requests with a firm suck.
“Like a solid𑁋shit𑁋two-point-five out of five…”
Jun pulls off your breast with a wet pop, grin turning wicked. “But you’re soaked, and you’re still calling me below average? I think your pussy disagrees.”
You open your mouth to retort, but then he slides his hand into your panties, fingers circling over your slick folds, and nothing but a breathy gasp escapes you. Your hips roll down to meet his hand as he inserts a finger inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your back arch and he has to use his other hand to hold you in place.
“What’s the rating now?” he asks, watching the way your face is beautifully twisting with pleasure as a second finger slides inside.
You shoot him a death glare as you clench around his hand. “Three𑁋fuck, right there𑁋three-point-eight𑁋”
“Getting better already,” he hums in approval, leaning back down to worship your breasts once more. The dual sensation has your head falling down into the crook of his neck, your moans caressing his skin.
“Four𑁋Jun, you asshole𑁋four-point-five𑁋”
He pulls his fingers out of you unexpectedly, making you whine at the loss. Before you can complain, you find yourself being flipped on the couch as he settles in between your thighs, looking up at you with that mischievous, hungry, adoring look. He gives another tug to the waistband of your pants.
“Final rating before I eat you out?”
Your chest heaves, though you try to keep your tone light and teasing. “Four-point-seven. Don’t get lazy down there or I’m docking points, smartass.”
Jun’s eyes sparkle with challenge as he helps you out of the rest of your clothes. When you’re fully bare in front of him, he spreads your thighs even further, letting his mouth hover tantalisingly where you need him most.
“Four-point-seven,” he repeats to himself, pressing a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. “I can work with that. Watch me get that perfect five.”
Then he leans in and drags his tongue up your soaked pussy in one long stripe, a groan leaving him as he tastes you for the first time. Your hips jolt against his face, a sharp moan tumbling out of you and bouncing off the walls of your quiet apartment.
“Oh𑁋Jun𑁋”
“Hmm?” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth, eyes flicking up to watch your face. Two fingers slide back inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your vision glassy. “God, you taste even better than I imagined…”
You slap a hand over your mouth as the pleasure starts to bloom its way out of you, but he reaches up and pulls it away, lacing your fingers together.
“Don’t do that, please,” he murmurs against your pussy. “Let me hear you, baby…”
The way he eats you out has your head spinning. It’s dizzying, a little messy, and entirely devoted to you. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers echo and your moans and gasps travel throughout the room, only making him double down even harder to bring you over the edge.
“Five𑁋five stars𑁋ah, please𑁋”
You cum with a cry of his name, the pleasure crashing into you in waves. He continues to lazily lap at you before you start trying to push his head away, the two of you giggling breathlessly in the aftermath.
When he pulls away, his lips are shiny and he looks foolishly pleased with himself. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls his way back up your body, meeting you for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought that this absolute klutz of a man just gave you the best orgasm of your life sends another shaky giggle rolling out of you.
“You okay?” he breathes against your mouth, chuckling softly of you barely controlling your laughter.
You run a hand over down your warm face. “I… what the hell just happened?”
“That was me letting go after holding back for years,” he answers without diffidence, tracing soothing circles over your bare thigh. “Do I get a final rating now?”
“Hmm, solid five-point-five. An extra half point for your enthusiasm and those cute noises you made down there.” You run your fingers through his messy hair, making him lean into your touch like a baby kitten. “But I’ll let you try for a six if you fuck me right now.”
Jun’s eyes darken instantly. “Say less.”
The two of you battle over taking off the rest of his clothes. Jun attempts to smoothly yank his hoodie off in one go, but it gets snug on something, causing him to laugh when it gets caught on his shoulders.
“Oh, my God𑁋stay still so I can take it off, you dummy!” You exclaim in frustration.
“Help me then, smartass!” His laughter is muffled into the fabric.
When you finally unsnag the hoodie and toss it somewhere on the floor, you both immediately reach for his pants at the same time, elbows bumping into each other. Rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his hand away so you can push it down his hips with borderline desperation. He kicks it off the rest of the way, his boxers following quickly.
The second he’s fully bare in front of you for the first time, he cages you into the couch right above you, littering soft kisses over your flushed cheeks. His cock rests heavily against your stomach as he stares down at you, chest rising and falling heavily.
“Hi,” he whispers stupidly, like he’s just remembered how to speak.
“Hi,” You reply with a bashful smile, reaching up to cradle his face, pinching his cheeks together. “Still waiting for my six-star performance.”
“Give me a break, I’m nervous!” he gasps defensively, grinding the underside of his dick along your slickness unconsciously. “I’ve only pictured this every single night for, like, the past four years!”
“Poor baby,” You coo impishly, reaching down to stroke him softly. “You’ve been jerking off to the thought of me for four years?”
Jun whines needily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Stop bullying me when I’m trying hard not to embarrass myself right now.”
“Then embarrass yourself. I’ve waited just as long, you idiot,” You urge, bringing him closer until there’s physically no more space between your bodies.
With a sly smirk, he reaches down, lines himself up with you, and slowly pushes inside. He groans lowly as he sinks inside you until his hips are pressed against yours. For a second, he doesn’t move at all, only trembling with his forehead leaning onto yours.
“Oh fuck𑁋I think I died a little,” he grunts pitifully into your neck. “You’re so warm. And tight. Think I-I short-circuited again.”
You give his shoulder a tight squeeze. “Move, Jun. Please.”
He obeys right away, thrusting into you experimentally and drawing a collective moan out from both of you. When he snaps himself into you again, again, and again, he sets a slow, deep rhythm that has the couch creaking softly beneath you.
“Shit, Jun𑁋” Your nails rake down his back as he hits that spot perfectly inside you again and again, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You… You feel so good.”
“Yeah? You look so pretty falling apart on my cock, baby,” he praises heavily, voice sounding absolutely wrecked. “Still rating me? Am I passing?”
Your laugh dissolves into a moan when a particular thrust punches the air out of your lungs.
“You’re at…” You bite down harshly on your bottom lip, glancing down to where you’re joined together. “Five-point… seven𑁋shit, keep going like that, I’m so close…”
“I’m so close too, not gonna last,” he pants, his breath molten on your neck. “God, I love you, I love you, I love you…”
You grab him by the nape of his neck to collapse his mouth back onto yours, swallowing all his desperate little grunts and sighs as the kiss turns heated fast. His rhythm stutters for the briefest second before he regains himself swiftly, the wet slap of your bodies meeting over and over again flooding the room, with your own hips rolling to meet with each of his thrusts.
The heat of it all invades through all your nerves, that familiar coil tightening in your belly. The rating game is completely out of the window now. There’s only nothing but the drag of his cock kissing your walls and this thumb dipping in between your legs to caress your clit, encouraging you to let go.
When your orgasm finally crashes, it’s much more intense than the last. Your nails imprint sharp crescents down his back as one final broken cry rips out from your throat, stars bursting behind your ears. Your walls squeeze around him so tightly he curses, the drive of his hips faltering sloppily.
“Baby, I can’t𑁋I’m gonna𑁋where𑁋?”
“Inside,” You beg gravelly, wrapping your arms around him even tighter. “Lose yourself in me, Jun, please.”
That’s all it takes for his own orgasm to hit him. With one final thrust, he spills inside of you with a deep, guttural groan. His face drops into the crook of your sweaty neck as shaky little whimpers continue to leave him𑁋your name, I love you, fuck I love you𑁋repeatedly until he’s completely spent and melted into your arms.
For a few moments of stillness, the only sounds travelling throughout the room is your ragged breathing and the sudden hum of your refrigerator. Eventually, Jun lifts his head from where it’s been resting comfortably on your chest. His dark hair is sticking out in all sorts of places, a few strands even matted to his forehead. And his eyes are half-lidded, yet so soft and full of love that you almost want to sob.
“So…” he starts hoarsely, kissing the tip of your nose. “Final rating?”
You let out a tired, contented laugh, brushing damp strands of his hair off his face.
“Mmmh… six-point-five,” You decide sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth.
A bright, boyish grin unleashes across his face. “I’ll take it. Room for improvement for the next round.”
“I𑁋next round?!”
“I aim to achieve ten stars. Or maybe more than that.”
“God, you’re so insatiable,” You groan, shaking your head despite the smile breaking through your expression. “Later on, maybe… for now, I just want to hold you.”
Jun swears he feels himself literally melt into a puddle at that, because how could he ever deny a request like that from you? Despite the little space on your creaky couch, he pulls out of you with a wince, grabs the throw blanket that has unknowingly dropped to the floor before shifting himself more deeper into your arms. The soft fabric wraps around your bare bodies together in a warm, messy nest, one of his legs slotting in between your legs.
“Better?” he mumbles hopefully, letting his eyes fall to a close so he could listen to your heartbeat.
“Mhm. Much,” You hum in response, nosing through his hair. “I love you, you menace.”
You feel his lips meet the soft skin above your breast, right over your heartbeat.
“I love you too, dummy.”
Remember that stray cat that landed on your doorstep at the very beginning and refused to leave?
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!
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pairing - non idol ! seungcheol x f.reader [fluff/angst]
summary → you and seungcheol became best friends freshman year of college, drifting into something softer and unspoken by junior year when you became roommates. now, after graduating, he has one week left before enlistment— a countdown tied to his future at his father’s company and the life waiting for him after completing service. but between a simple haircut in your shared bathroom and the weight of leaving, everything he’s kept buried finally spills out, because what he’s really afraid of isn’t enlistment… it’s leaving the person he’s been secretly in love with for years
word count - 3.7k
warnings! → friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, mutual pining, love confession, yearning, seungcheol being devastatingly in love, military enlistment mention, pre-enlistment emotions, kissing/making out- no smut, years of repressed feelings, bathroom confession scene, soft/domestic intimacy, suggestive ending, happy ending, two idiots finally communicating
The bathroom smelled like vanilla, clean laundry, and Seungcheol’s cologne. The one he always wore without thinking. That warm, slightly spicy scent that clung to his hoodies and lingered in the apartment long after he’d walked out of a room.
It mixed with the softness of vanilla melting through the air in slow, comforting waves, trying to wrap the moment in something gentler than what it really was.
Clean laundry hung nearby from the rack beside the shower, still faintly warm from the dryer, fabric softener folding itself into the air every time you moved. It made the space feel lived in, like any other night, like nothing was about to change.
Like he wasn’t leaving in a week.
You’d lit the candle earlier to keep things feeling normal. Because to you, this wasn’t goodbye.
Not really.
It was just something difficult he had to get through before coming back home again.
But sitting in front of the mirror while strands of dark hair fell steadily around him, Seungcheol felt every inch of this moment settling into his chest with terrifying finality.
The low buzz of the clippers sounded too loud in the small bathroom. Every pass against his scalp stripped away another piece of familiarity, and with each lock of hair hitting the tile floor, the reality became harder to ignore.
One week.
One week before he left behind the apartment that had become more his home than any place ever had before.
One week before leaving you.
Meanwhile, you stayed focused carefully behind him. Occasionally brushing loose strands from his shoulders and chatting softly about completely ordinary things. The grocery list for tomorrow, your cafe manager finally fixing the broken espresso machine, and which of your friends would inevitably cry the most dramatically at the enlistment send off.
Like this was temporary. Like the two of you would naturally fall back into this exact rhythm again once he returned.
And maybe that should’ve comforted him. Instead, it only made the ache in his chest worse.
You swallowed around the lump in your throat and focused on the careful motion of your wrist.
One more pass.
The clippers hummed over the back of his head, leaving behind soft dark stubble. You stepped back slightly, examining your work before flicking the power off. Silence settled heavily between you.
“There,” you said quietly.
You brushed the loose hair from his neck before running your palm gently over the freshly shaved skin. The texture made your chest ache unexpectedly.
“All done.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned down into his line of sight through the mirror. “Wow. Okay, it definitely looks weird.”
His brows lifted faintly.
“Not bad weird,” you corrected quickly, laughing softly. “Just.. you’ve never had your hair this short before.” Your fingers rubbed over the top of his head again playfully. “You actually look really cute.”
You moved around the stool until you stood between his knees, his legs naturally parting to make room for you in the cramped bathroom. Your hands stayed on his head, thumbs brushing along his temples while you grinned down at him.
It was the smile that always ruined him.
The one that crinkled your eyes slightly. That he’d watched across lecture halls and grocery aisles and lazy Sunday mornings in your shared apartment kitchen. The one that had slowly, disastrously made him fall in love with you years ago.
But instead of smiling back, his expression only seemed to sink further.
Your own smile faltered.
“Cheol?”
He looked away. His gaze dropped to the floor instead, landing on the ridiculous fuzzy green house slippers covering your feet.
The pair he bought you two winters ago after you’d spent twenty minutes dramatically mourning them in the middle of a department store because you couldn’t afford “unnecessary purchases” until your next paycheck from the café.
You’d worn them nearly every day since.
“Seungcheol,” you said again, softer this time, but still nothing.
You reached down, fingers curling around his chin until you gently tilted his face back toward you.
“Earth to Cheol?”
He swallowed hard, his eyes still locked downwards.
“I don’t want to go.”
The words came out rough, and your chest tightened immediately.
“I know,” you said carefully. “It’s not exactly an easy thing.”
You tried to give a reassuring smile again, thumb brushing along his cheek.
“But you’ll be back before you know it. And then you’ll start at your dad’s company and everything’ll work out.” You shrugged lightly. “Unless you can convince your dad to rearrange the plan somehow?”
He shook his head once.
“That’s not it.”
“Then what?”
His eyes finally met yours fully, and it nearly undid him.
Because you were looking at him the same way you always did. Soft, patient, worried for him before yourself. Standing between his knees in those stupid fuzzy green slippers, your fingers still warm against his skin from where you’d rubbed over his freshly shaved head, completely unaware you were holding his entire heart in your hands.
God. How was he supposed to leave this?
How was he supposed to pack up two years of shared mornings, late night convenience store runs and you humming in the kitchen while making coffee half asleep and just, walk away from it? From you?
His chest tightened painfully. All he could think about was time.
A week from now, he’d be gone, and life would keep moving without him.
You’d still go to the café on weekends. Burn pancakes every Sunday morning because you refuse to turn the heat down, and still laugh so hard at dumb movies you’d snort without realizing it.
But eventually, someone else might be there to see it. Someone else might start memorizing the little things about you the way he had.
Someone else might carry your grocery bags, and sit in his spot beside you at bars. Walk home with you at night, or hear you call their name from another room instead of his.
The thought made him feel sick.
Because Seungcheol had spent years pretending what existed between you was enough. Pretending friendship didn’t already feel dangerously close to love. Pretending he could survive watching you belong to somebody else someday.
But now there was an expiration date looming over him, and suddenly every second with you felt fragile. Temporary.
His throat tightened before speaking again.
“I don’t want to leave you.”
The words came out quieter than he intended. Not because he was unsure, but because saying them out loud made everything terrifyingly real.
Your heart stumbled at the words, a sharp, disorienting skip you immediately tried to dismiss. No, that wasn’t what he meant. It couldn’t be.
You latched onto the thought almost instinctively, like a reflex. Like you’d done a hundred times before whenever something about him felt like it tipped too close to something you weren’t supposed to look at too long.
He’s Seungcheol. Your best friend. Your roommate. The person who had been woven into the shape of your days for four years until it didn’t even feel like separate lives anymore.
That’s all this was. It had to be.
So you laughed softly anyways, a little too quick, a little too light, as if you could smooth the moment over before it had time to turn into anything else in your mind.
“You’re such a baby,” you teased gently. “I’ll still be here when you get out.” You squeezed his shoulders. “Plus, you’ll get leave sometimes, right? We’ll still hang out.”
He shook his head again, sharper this time.
Before you could say anything else, his hands suddenly wrapped around your wrists, stopping your movements against his shoulders. Slowly, he slid his hands down until his fingers intertwined with yours. And when he spoke again, his voice had changed completely.
Serious. Low. Almost trembling.
“I don’t want to leave you,” He repeated, his tone vulnerable and bare.
The air shifted. Your smile faded entirely now.
“Cheol..”
“I don’t want to leave and come back and..” He exhaled shakily, eyes squeezing shut for a second before reopening. “Be replaced.”
Confusion flickered across your face.
“Replaced? Seungcheol, what are you talking about? You’ll always—”
“I don’t want another guy taking my place in your life.”
The words hit you so hard you went completely still. For a second, your brain genuinely couldn’t process them. Not because you didn’t understand what he was saying, but because some terrified hidden part of you had spent years convincing yourself you imagined all of it.
The lingering looks, the way his hand always found the small of your back in crowded places. How naturally the two of you moved around each other like you’d built a life together without realizing it. The quiet domesticity of him bringing you home your favorite snacks without asking. Falling asleep together on the couch, sharing inside jokes, or tying his tie for him when he has to visit his fathers company building.
Like he belonged in every crevice of your daily life.
You had spent so long forcing yourself not to read into it. Because Seungcheol was Seungcheol. Your best friend, Your roommate, the person who had become home so slowly you never even noticed it happening.
And loving him had always felt dangerous. So instead, you suppressed it.
Buried every flutter in your chest when strangers mistakenly called you his girlfriend. How much you loved hearing him laugh from another room. Locked away the embarrassing ache you felt whenever he looked especially handsome before going out somewhere. Ignoring the way your heart would sink anytime another woman flirted with him in front of you.
You told yourself it was safer that way. Better to keep him as your best friend than risk losing him entirely. But now he was sitting in front of you looking terrified of losing you, and suddenly every moment over the last four years came crashing together so violently it almost made your chest hurt.
Your throat tightened painfully as you stared at him, your pulse pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.
Meanwhile Seungcheol looked seconds away from unraveling completely, like he already regretted saying it out loud.
And somehow that made it worse. Because all this time, he’d been carrying the same feelings you had.
He laughed once under his breath, but there was nothing amusing about it.
“We live together,” he said quietly. “We cook together. We grocery shop together. We do laundry together. We spend every stupid Sunday rotting on the couch watching movies neither of us actually likes because we’re too lazy to change them.”
Your lips parted slightly.
“And somewhere along the way my feelings stopped being normal.”” He shook his head, his thumbs rubbed nervously against your knuckles.
“I like when strangers think we’re together.”
Your breath caught.
“I like when we argue over ramen flavors in the store and old women smile at us like we’re married already.” His eyes flickered up to yours finally. “I like when we go out drinking and some guy starts trying to flirt with you, but the second I walk back over beside you he leaves because he thinks I’m your boyfriend.” His voice softened painfully. “I like taking care of you.”
Your chest felt impossibly tight now, every feeling you had spent years carefully locking away had suddenly cracked open all at once.
It hurt. Not in a bad way, not really. Just, too much.
Too much affection. Too much relief. Too much longing you’d trained yourself not to touch because wanting Seungcheol had always felt like standing too close to the edge of something dangerous.
Your eyes burned as you stared at him. At the boy who had unknowingly become the center of your entire life, and now he was sitting here looking at you like losing you would ruin him.
The realization nearly knocked the air from your lungs. Because all this time, you thought you were the only one aching quietly through all those little moments.
All those nights lying awake in your room wondering what would happen if you reached for him first. All those mornings watching him half asleep in the kitchen, thinking with painful certainty that someday another woman would get this version of him instead.
But he was looking at you now with the same fear.
“I like knowing how you take your coffee.” He laughed quietly. “I like that you steal my hoodies and leave hair ties everywhere and sing badly when you clean the apartment. I like that you always save me the last dumpling even though it’s your favorite food.” His eyes glistened slightly. “I like coming home to you.”
The room felt too small, too warm.
The tiny bathroom that had always felt ordinary suddenly seemed intimate in a way it never had before. His knees brushing against your thighs, your hands still trapped in his, the soft buzz of the overhead light filling the silence between every shaky breath.
You could hear everything. The uneven rhythm of his breathing. The faint drip of the faucet. Your own heartbeat pounding violently in your ears.
And Seungcheol was close. So close enough that you could see the nervous swallow in his throat. Close enough to notice the slight tremble in his fingers where they held yours. Close enough that if you leaned forward even an inch, both of your foreheads would touch.
It made you dizzy.
Because suddenly every little domestic moment you both shared in this apartment over the years felt charged with something you’d spent too long pretending not to notice.
Late night conversations in this same bathroom while brushing your teeth. Him standing shirtless in the doorway after showers with wet hair dripping onto the floor while you complained at him to clean it up. You sitting on the counter while he shaved, talking about absolutely nothing for an hour because being near each other had always been enough.
How had you both survived living like this for years without combusting?
The warmth crawling up your neck had nothing to do with the bathroom anymore. It was him.
The way he was looking at you now, open and terrified, aching with love he could barely contain made the entire room feel suffocatingly small.. and he still wasn’t done.
“I love how excited you get over stupid little things,” he whispered. “Like finding books at thrift stores or those ugly ceramic frogs you keep collecting for some reason—”
“They’re vintage,” you muttered automatically through the overwhelming emotion building in your chest.
He huffed out a broken laugh. “See?”
And there it was again. That ridiculous, earnest defensiveness over something objectively stupid. Even now, standing in the middle of a life altering confession, both of you seconds from emotionally unraveling, you still couldn’t help correcting him about the ceramic frogs. It hit him with such painful affection he thought his chest might split open.
Because that was you.
You cared so deeply about little things, threw your whole heart behind harmless, ridiculous things without embarrassment. You made ordinary moments feel alive simply because you existed inside them so fully, and Seungcheol had spent years helplessly falling in love with every tiny piece of it.
The way you argued passionately about thrift store finds. How you got distracted halfway through serious conversations because a dog walked past the window. The way you always, always found something to love in things other people overlooked.
Even now, with tears gathering in your eyes and his confession hanging heavily between you, your instinct has been to defend your stupid frog collection.
God. How was he ever supposed to leave someone like you behind?
Your eyes burned.
“I’m in love with you,” he finally admitted.
The words hung between you, raw and terrifying.
“And I’m horrified that while I’m gone, somebody else is gonna get all of this instead.” His voice cracked slightly now. “Somebody else gets to live with you and cook with you and hear you laugh at two in the morning and hold your hand in public and–” He stopped to breathe shakily. “I had to tell you before I left,” he whispered. “Even if you don’t feel the same. Because I think it would actually kill me if I came back and you belonged to someone else.”
Silence. Complete silence. Seungcheol’s heart pounded so violently he thought he might actually throw up.
Then suddenly, you laughed.
His brows furrowed immediately.
“What?”
You laughed harder, one hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears filled your eyes now.
“Why are you laughing?” he asked, completely bewildered as you breathed between laughs.
“We are two huge idiots.”
He blinked at you.
“What?”
You shook your head, smiling so brightly it nearly knocked the breath from him.
Then you leaned down and kissed him.
Seungcheol froze. For one stunned second, his brain stopped functioning altogether.
But then his hands were suddenly at your waist, gripping tightly as he kissed you back with years of buried longing crashing into the moment all at once.
The kiss deepened instantly. Messy, desperate, relieved.
You could feel the shaky exhale leave him as he pulled you closer between his legs, your fingers sliding over the newly shaved sides of his head as you kissed him again and again.
When you finally pulled apart for air, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours in disbelief.
“You idiot,” you whispered fondly, still smiling like you couldn’t quite believe him.
“You love me?” he asked, quieter this time, like saying it wrong might make it disappear. Like he still couldn’t fully trust it was real.
You hummed, pretending to think about it as your fingers absently traced the back of his hand.
“Unfortunately for you,” you said lightly, “yes.”
His breath caught just slightly. Then, like something finally clicking into place behind his eyes, his expression shifted.
“Since when?”
The question wasn’t playful anymore. It was careful and serious.
Your teasing smile softened at the edges, but you didn’t look away. “Junior year,” you said simply.
His brows pulled together immediately. “Junior year?”
You nodded once, like it should’ve been obvious, but it wasn’t. And you let him sit in it for a second longer before you added, softer now, just a little less teasing.
“You came back to the apartment at like 1am during midterms week,” you said. “And I was on the kitchen floor because I’d completely given up on studying.” Something in his expression shifted instantly.
“Oh.”
You nodded, watching him remember it piece by piece.
“I wasn’t sick,” you continued. “I wasn’t anything dramatic. I was just.. exhausted. Like, the kind where you feel stupid for crying but you can’t stop anyway.” His thumb tightened slightly against your hand. “And you didn’t try to fix it,” you said, voice quieter now. “You just sat down next to me on the floor like it was the most normal thing in the world and started going through my notes with me.”
A faint, almost disbelieving smile flickered on his lips. He remembered now, too. Especially how pretty you still looked when you sat in front of the kitchen stove covered in a sea of notebook paper.
“And you didn’t say anything about it being late, or how tired you were,” you added. “You just stayed until I stopped crying.” You shrugged slightly, like you were trying to make it sound small.
Seungcheol went quiet. Really quiet. Like he was realizing something he’d never considered before, that for him it had just been another night of taking care of you, showing up for you, but for you, it had been the night you started loving him.
A disbelieving laugh escaped him.
Then you grinned suddenly, mischief returning to your expression.
“So while you’re gone,” you said casually, “which room should I combine our stuff into?”
He blinked.
“Huh?”
“You know,” you continued innocently, in a way only you could. “Since obviously one room becomes ours and the other becomes a spare room.”
He let out a loud scoff laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before suddenly standing up. You squealed as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly.
“Wow,” you laughed breathlessly, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your legs wrapped around his waist. “Someone got confident really fast.”
Seungcheol looked up at you with a grin that was equal parts smug and completely lovestruck.
“You kissed me first,” he pointed out.
“You confessed first.”
“And now I’m making up for lost time.”
Heat rushed to your face instantly at the way he said it, low and certain, like something in him had finally snapped after years of holding himself back.
You tried to laugh it off anyway. “Oh, so this is who you are now?”
“This,” he said, tightening his grip slightly beneath your thighs, “is who I’ve been trying not to be around you for four years.”
Your stomach flipped violently.
“Cheol–”
“I’m serious.” His eyes flickered down to your lips again. “Do you know how hard it’s been living with you looking like that all the time?”
You let out an incredulous laugh. “Looking like what?”
“Like my girlfriend,” he answered immediately.
The bluntness of it made your breath catch.
“And now you actually are. No take backs,” he murmured, sounding a little stunned by the realization himself. Then his mouth curled into something more teasing. “So yeah,” he said softly, stepping closer until your back brushed the bathroom wall, “I’m gonna be confident for a minute.”
Before you could recover from that, he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, like now that he finally had permission he never wanted to stop touching you.
Butterflies exploded in your stomach.
When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours again, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.
“We can figure the room thing out later,” he murmured. “But we only have one week before I leave.” Your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “And there are a lot of things I’ve been fantasizing about doing with you.”
Heat rushed to your face instantly.
“Choi Seungcheol!”
He grinned for the first time all night. Then he carried you out of the bathroom and down the hall toward his bedroom while your laughter echoed through the apartment the two of you had unknowingly turned into a home together years ago.
Yoongi doesn't realise he's in love because loving you is a second nature to him
The first time Min Yoongi met you, he decided three things within the span of thirty seconds.
One: you talked too much.
Two: you smiled like sunlight spilling across hardwood floors.
Three: you were absolutely not going to fit into his life.
Unfortunately for him, you did anyway.
It started small.
That was the dangerous thing about loving someone when you were Min Yoongi. It never arrived loudly. There were no dramatic realizations, no cinematic moments with orchestral music swelling in the background. Love slipped into his life quietly, disguised as routine. As habit. As instinct.
And by the time he could’ve named it, it was already part of him.
“Why are you in my studio?”
Yoongi didn’t even look up from his laptop as he spoke. His voice came out flat, mildly annoyed, entirely unsurprised.
Behind him, the door shut.
“Wow,” you said. “No hello? No wow, you look beautiful today? No thank you for bringing food?”
“I didn’t ask you to bring food.”
“You literally texted me and said, and I quote, ‘I forgot to eat.’”
“That’s not asking.”
“You’re impossible.”
You set two takeout bags down beside him anyway.
Yoongi finally glanced up.
And paused.
You were wearing one of those oversized sweaters again. Cream colored. Sleeves too long. Hair slightly messy from the rain outside. Your cheeks pink from the cold.
Pretty.
Dangerously pretty.
He looked away immediately.
“You got rained on,” he muttered.
“Observant.”
“You’ll get sick.”
“You sound like my grandmother.”
“Tch.”
But he was already reaching behind him for the spare towel he kept in the studio for late nights.
Without a word, he tossed it toward you.
You caught it with a grin.
“There he is,” you teased softly. “Soft Yoongi.”
“There’s no soft Yoongi.”
“You gave me your towel.”
“You’re dripping on my floor.”
“Mhm.”
You smiled while drying your hair.
Yoongi ignored the strange warmth settling in his chest at the sight.
Because this—this was normal.
You’d been in his life for nearly three years now. Friends through circumstance first, then through inevitability. Introduced by Hoseok at some gathering Yoongi barely remembered. You’d laughed at one of his dry comments instead of getting intimidated by him, and somehow that had been the beginning.
After that, you just… stayed.
You showed up at the studio with coffee.
You bullied him into eating actual meals.
You sat quietly on the couch during his producing sessions, reading books or scrolling on your phone while he worked through dawn.
You learned his silences instead of fearing them.
And Yoongi—
Yoongi let you.
That alone should have told him something.
But loving you felt too natural to notice.
Like breathing.
“You know,” Namjoon said carefully one evening, “normal friends don’t memorize each other’s coffee orders from six different cafés.”
Yoongi blinked slowly. “What are you talking about?”
“You know her order everywhere.”
“She likes consistency.”
“You bought her a winter coat because she said she was cold one time.”
“She refused to buy one herself.”
“You flew across the world and came back with skincare because she mentioned wanting to try it.”
“She couldn’t get it here.”
Namjoon stared at him.
Yoongi stared back.
Finally Namjoon sighed.
“You are genuinely unbelievable.”
“What?”
“You’re in love with her.”
Yoongi scoffed immediately.
“No, I’m not.”
“Yoongi.”
“She’s my friend.”
“You look at her like she invented happiness.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It makes perfect sense.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes and stood from the couch.
“Don’t start.”
Namjoon watched him walk toward the kitchen.
“Okay,” he said lightly. “Then if she started dating someone tomorrow, you’d be completely fine?”
Yoongi stopped moving.
Just for a second.
A tiny second.
But Namjoon noticed.
Of course he noticed.
Yoongi recovered quickly, opening the fridge with unnecessary force.
“She can date whoever she wants.”
“Mhm.”
“She deserves someone good.”
“Mhm.”
“She deserves someone who makes her happy.”
Namjoon almost looked sympathetic.
“And that someone isn’t you?”
Yoongi frowned like the answer was obvious.
“No.”
Because in Yoongi’s mind, love wasn’t soft.
Love was consuming.
Demanding.
Temporary.
People left. People changed. People hurt each other even when they didn’t mean to.
But you—
You laughed when he got grumpy.
You fell asleep on his couch while waiting for him to finish work.
You trusted him with every vulnerable piece of yourself without hesitation.
And Yoongi protected that trust with brutal devotion.
Why would he ruin it by wanting more?
So no.
He wasn’t in love with you.
He just cared about you more than himself.
That was different.
…Wasn’t it?
You were halfway asleep on his couch when Yoongi draped a blanket over you.
Your eyes fluttered open immediately.
“There you are,” you mumbled sleepily.
His chest tightened.
Dangerous.
Always dangerous.
“You should go home,” he said quietly.
“You’ve been working for fourteen hours.”
“I’m fine.”
“You say that every time.”
You pushed yourself upright, blanket slipping down your shoulder.
Yoongi’s eyes caught on the bare skin there before he could stop himself.
Pretty.
Pretty pretty pretty.
God.
“You didn’t eat much,” you murmured.
“I ate.”
“Half a sandwich.”
“It counts.”
You stared at him for a long moment.
Then your expression softened in that way that always undid him completely.
“You work too hard.”
Yoongi looked away first.
Because that look—
That unbearably tender look—
It always made him feel exposed somehow.
“I like working.”
“You also like pretending you’re not human.”
“Tch.”
You smiled faintly before patting the spot beside you on the couch.
“Come sit for a minute.”
“I’m busy.”
“Five minutes.”
“You’re bossy.”
“And yet here you are.”
He should’ve gone back to work.
Instead, he sat.
The moment he did, you leaned sideways until your head rested against his shoulder naturally, like you belonged there.
Like you’d done it a thousand times.
Yoongi went very still.
Your hair smelled like your shampoo.
Your body was warm against his.
And something deep in his chest settled immediately.
Home.
The thought appeared so suddenly it startled him.
Home.
You sighed softly.
“Comfortable?”
“…Mhm.”
“You’re warm.”
“You’re cold all the time.”
“You say that like it’s my fault.”
“It probably is.”
You laughed quietly.
Yoongi closed his eyes for just a moment.
This was dangerous too.
Not because it hurt.
But because it didn’t.
Being close to you felt frighteningly easy.
Like he’d spent his whole life unconsciously making room for you before you’d even arrived.
The first crack in his denial came because of another man.
Which was embarrassing, honestly.
Yoongi was not a jealous person by nature.
Possessive occasionally, maybe.
Protective absolutely.
But jealous?
No.
Until he walked into a restaurant one evening and saw you smiling across the table at someone he didn’t know.
The man was handsome.
Young.
Well-dressed.
Leaning toward you with obvious interest.
Yoongi stopped walking.
Something ugly twisted low in his stomach.
Hot.
Sharp.
Wrong.
You looked up then, immediately brightening.
“Yoongi!”
Your entire face lit up.
And somehow that only made it worse.
You waved him over enthusiastically.
“Come here!”
Yoongi approached slowly.
Too slowly.
The stranger stood politely, offering his hand.
“Hey, I’m Minjae.”
Yoongi shook it once.
Brief.
Cold.
“This is Yoongi,” you told the man cheerfully. “My favorite person.”
Favorite person.
The ugly feeling eased instantly.
Then returned twice as hard when Minjae smiled at you.
“I can see why,” he said.
Yoongi sat down beside you before he could think about it.
Close enough that your knees brushed.
Territorial.
The realization should’ve alarmed him.
Instead it just felt necessary.
You, oblivious as always, happily explained.
“Minjae and I met through a friend!”
“Mhm,” Yoongi replied flatly.
“We’ve been talking for a few weeks.”
Something unpleasant crawled beneath his skin.
“A few weeks.”
“Yeah!”
Minjae glanced between the two of you.
There was a strange look on his face suddenly.
Careful.
Observant.
“You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was famous,” he said lightly.
You choked on your drink.
Yoongi froze.
“My what?”
“Boyfriend,” Minjae repeated.
“We’re not dating,” you said immediately.
Too quickly.
Why did that bother him?
Minjae looked unconvinced.
Then amused.
“Oh.”
Yoongi spent the rest of dinner in a mood foul enough that even you noticed.
On the walk home, you finally nudged his shoulder.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Nothing.”
“You hated him.”
“I didn’t hate him.”
“You glared at him like he insulted your bloodline.”
“He talked too much.”
You gasped dramatically.
“The irony.”
“Tch.”
You laughed, bumping your shoulder against his again.
Yoongi glanced down at you.
Streetlights painted your face gold.
Your nose was pink from the cold.
You looked happy.
Happy.
And suddenly the idea of someone else making you happy felt unbearable.
The realization hit him so hard he physically stopped walking.
You turned immediately.
“Yoongi?”
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
He was in love with you.
Not a little.
Not maybe.
Hopelessly.
Devastatingly.
Completely.
And apparently everyone else on earth had known before him.
“Wow,” Jungkook said after Yoongi finally confessed during drinks one night. “That took you an insanely long time.”
Yoongi glared.
Jimin looked deeply entertained.
“You literally carry snacks for her in your bag.”
“Because she forgets to eat.”
“You stopped smoking as much because she worried.”
Yoongi frowned.
“She looked sad.”
Taehyung barked out a laugh.
“You bought an entire couch because she said your old one hurt her back.”
“It did hurt her back.”
Hoseok looked like he was trying not to scream.
“Yoongi,” he said carefully. “You are the most in love person I’ve ever met.”
The worst part?
Yoongi genuinely hadn’t realized.
Because every instinct he had regarding you happened automatically.
Holding umbrellas over your head.
Walking on the outside of sidewalks.
Saving the last bite of food for you.
Calling to make sure you got home safe.
Listening when you were upset.
Remembering every tiny detail about you like his brain had decided you were essential information.
Loving you had become muscle memory.
Something built directly into him.
How was he supposed to notice something that felt as natural as breathing?
“Are you gonna tell her?” Namjoon asked.
Yoongi immediately looked horrified.
“No.”
“Why not?”
Because if he said it out loud, things would change.
And the thought terrified him.
What if you pulled away?
What if you became careful around him?
What if he lost this?
Lost you?
No.
Absolutely not.
He’d rather love you silently forever than risk you disappearing from his life entirely.
Unfortunately, being aware of his feelings now made him catastrophically worse at hiding them.
You noticed first.
Because of course you did.
“Why are you acting weird?” you asked one evening.
“I’m not.”
“You just handed me your credit card because I said I wanted ice cream.”
“You were already going to the store.”
“You looked offended when the cashier flirted with me.”
“He was annoying.”
“You called me beautiful.”
Yoongi nearly walked directly into a wall.
You stared at him suspiciously.
His ears burned.
“…Did I?”
“Yes.”
“Hm.”
“You never call me beautiful.”
Because if he started, he’d never stop.
Because beautiful wasn’t enough anymore.
You were devastating.
Extraordinary.
Beloved.
But he couldn’t say those things.
So instead he muttered, “You are beautiful.”
Your expression softened instantly.
And Yoongi’s stupid heart nearly beat itself to death.
“You’re sweet,” you said quietly.
Sweet.
If only you knew.
The breaking point came seven months later.
You were crying.
And Yoongi hated when you cried.
Hated it in a visceral, violent way.
You sat curled into the corner of his couch while rain hammered against the windows outside.
“He said I’m hard to love.”
Yoongi’s jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
The man you’d dated briefly after Minjae.
The idiot.
“He’s wrong,” Yoongi said immediately.
You laughed bitterly.
“Yoongi.”
“He’s wrong.”
“You don’t have to—”
“He’s wrong.”
Your eyes lifted to his.
And something inside Yoongi cracked wide open at the sight of your pain.
“You are the easiest person in the world to love.”
Silence.
The room went still.
You stared at him.
Yoongi stared back.
His pulse thundered.
Because there it was.
The truth.
Raw and exposed between you.
Your voice came out barely above a whisper.
“Easy?”
Yoongi swallowed hard.
“When you’re tired, I know exactly how you take your tea because I’ve memorized it.” His voice was rough now. Honest in a way it had never been before. “When something good happens, you’re the first person I want to tell. I hear songs and wonder if you’d like them. I see things you’d laugh at and save them for you automatically.”
Your eyes started watering again.
But differently this time.
“I don’t know when it happened,” Yoongi admitted quietly. “I think maybe it was always happening.”
His chest hurt.
God, it hurt.
“Loving you became so normal to me I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”
You looked shattered by the confession.
Yoongi forced himself to continue anyway.
“I’m in love with you,” he said softly. “I’ve probably been in love with you for a long time.”
The room stayed silent.
Then you whispered the words that nearly killed him.
“You idiot.”
Yoongi blinked.
“What?”
You surged forward suddenly, grabbing his face with both hands.
“You absolute idiot,” you repeated tearfully. “I’ve been waiting for you forever.”
And then you kissed him.
Yoongi made a broken sound against your mouth immediately.
Relief.
Shock.
Love.
Years and years of restrained affection collapsing at once.
His hands found your waist instinctively, pulling you closer like he physically couldn’t bear distance anymore.
You kissed him like you already knew him intimately.
Like this was inevitable.
Like home.
When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing hard.
Yoongi rested his forehead against yours.
“You love me?” he asked quietly.
You looked at him with something unbearably tender.
“Yoongi,” you whispered, “you’ve loved me for years.”
He laughed softly then.
A little disbelieving.
A little overwhelmed.
Because maybe you were right.
Maybe every cup of coffee.
Every late-night phone call.
Every careful act of devotion.
Every instinct to protect you, comfort you, keep you close—
Maybe that had always been love.
He just hadn’t known there was a name for it.
You brushed your thumb gently beneath his eye.
“So?” you murmured. “What happens now?”
Yoongi looked at you.
Really looked at you.
At the woman who had quietly become the center of his life without him even realizing.
Then he kissed you once more.
Slow.
Certain.
Adoring.
And for the first time in years, Min Yoongi answered without hesitation.
“Now,” he said softly against your lips, “I love you properly.”
Warnings: Reader is depressed but is not openly mentioned. Poorly proofread.
Yuin's note: I am projecting myself and i'm not ashamed of it.
It was early morning, and the first thing you did was let out a long sigh. You reached for the clock on the nightstand, it was eight-thirty. It was already late and you had to get up, but your exhausted body didn't feel the same way.
You sat on the edge of the bed, taking a minute to close your eyes and breathe. You repeated to yourself over and over “there’s too much to do”, and even thought your motivation was nonexistent, thinking about your responsibilities was enough to get you up—sluggishly, but it worked.
Heading to the kitchen, you noticed someone moved the magnets and used them to pin a note to the refrigerator. “Hi, honey! I hope you have a great day. I’ve made coffee just the way you like it; you just have to heat it up.”
Looking toward the counter, your favorite mug was next to the coffee maker.
You weren't very hungry, so you had the coffee along with some energy bars you kept for those slow, heavy days. After a quick breakfast, you went to the bathroom to do your wash routine, though it was the first time in days you’d actually done it. There, next to the toothpaste, was a piece of paper with your name on it.
“I noticed you were out of face wash, so I bought a new bottle. You have to take care of your skin!”
You smiled faintly, and put the note inside your pants pocket.
It was laundry day. Actually, it must have been days ago, but you just decided not to do it, now there was a mountain of dirty clothes piled up by the mashing machine. You went to the small laundry room, and you found two piles of clothes side by side, with a little note like the others on top of one.
“I know you don't like doing this, so I separated the white ones to make it easier for you.”
After starting the wash cycle, you went to the computer at your personal office; you had overdue tasks and couldn't postpone them any longer. On the turned-off monitor, a note was stuck with the drawing of a smiling puppy.
“I’m proud of you. I’ll reward you with a delicious lunch for all the effort you’ve put in today!”
You read the note with slightly trembling hands, and a warm feeling in your chest that you had missed lingered for a while. It wasn't easy to get up every day with no energy at all, but Seokmin’s encouraging words always seemed to arrive just in the right moment.
He believed in you, and you couldn’t let him down.
At noon the doorbell rang; it felt great to get up and stretch after spending some hours at the computer. When you opened the door, Seokmin wrapped you in a tight hug, and he placed a tender kiss in your forehead. Then, like an eager kid, he sat at the dining table and put down the bag he was carrying.
“I hope you're hungry,” Seokmin said as you briefly went to the kitchen for plates and cutlery. “I ordered your favorite.”
“Won't you get in trouble for sneaking out from work?” you asked, joining him at the table. Seokmin went ahead to serve the lunch.
“I told the boss you were sick and I had to come see you.” There wasn't a trace of guilt in his voice. Not even a little.
“Lying to your boss isn't right...”
Seokmin placed a plate of rice with vegetables and some pieces of chicken in sweet and sour sauce in front of you; the meal was a feast to the eyes. Your stomach rumble like never before, and when you looked up, the weight in your stomach felt a little deeper.
He didn’t respond, his gentle smile said everything. It was impossible to hide something from those bright eyes of his. A warmth rose from your chest to your face and you had to look back down to the lunch.
“I'm glad you're feeling better,” his voice sounded a bit more relaxed. “Now, tell me, how was your day?”
Lunch was pleasant and peaceful. You couldn't remember the last time a meal had been so enjoyable. Soon, the moments of heaviness began to feel distant, and the space they left was filled with a light, perhaps fleeting, happiness. But it was true happiness, after all.
After the meal, Seokmin cleaned the table and looked at his wristwatch, letting out a squeak. “I have to be back in less than ten minutes!”
Since he was busy, you took the chance to go to the bedroom, grab a post-it from the desk, and write a quick note. After folding it, you slipped it into his coat pocket.
Seokmin came out quickly, and before rushing back to work, he turned his gaze at you.
“See you tonight,” he said, giving you one tight hug before grabbing his coat hanging by the door. “Oh, and don’t make the dinner.”
“Are you taking me out for burgers?” you said playfully as he walked away quickly.
“It's a surprise!”
Seokmin got into his car and took a breath before anything else. As he was looking for the keys in his pocket, he found something he didn't remember putting there: a small piece of paper with his name on it.
“Thanks for everything. I love you, I'm proud of you.”
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!
hi! can you write a fluff fic for wonwoo? like wonwoo's reaction to his s/o having a big fat crush on him despite them already dating. getting shy around him sometimes, touching squeezing and poking his face cause it just gets her all giddy and he's just there like ☺️
hey, i hope this is okay! thanks for requesting ♡
Wonwoo (SVT) | Shy
fluff | 0.6k | gn!reader
He wonders if you know. Anytime you look away from his gaze, every time you immediately check if he’s still watching you and whine because he absolutely is, he wonders if you realize how hard it is to pretend he’s not affected.
Wonwoo is genuinely proud of himself for getting to this level of acting cool, even if he’s anything but. His naturally stoic expression and features that make him look cold help and for once he’s grateful. He’ll take any help he can. He wants you to know that he loves you, of course. He tries hard to show it, to make you feel loved and cherished. It’s just that he doesn’t need you to know that he’s wrapped around your finger.
And you’re doing it again - that thing you do, lowering your voice when you call him love. Like it’s a secret, like it’s new and unfamiliar, not a nickname you’ve been calling him for months. He remembers when you, half-asleep, admitted it doesn’t feel like you deserve him. Perhaps that’s why he always turns to you so eagerly when you call him that. With a small, private smile that belongs only to you and eyes that betray what he’s trying to hide. Yet he’d rather his secret be revealed than you thinking anything other than that you’re perfect for him.
How could you think anything else? His heart races so fast you must hear it trying to beat out of his chest. Wonwoo might be able to control his breathing, yet his heart will always speak the truth. And as your finger traces the side of his face while he pretends to be asleep, he soon might lose control of his lungs as well. Your touch is gentle, obviously you’re trying not to wake him. If only you knew he’s been awake long before you, just biding his time until you wake up and make his morning better.
The sheets are too warm and comfortable to get out of and you might be too shy to initiate these soft, affectionate moments otherwise. It’s cute - as cute as it is frustrating. There’s nothing to be shy about. He’s scared too, afraid he’ll chase you away without meaning to. More than that, he supposes it’s just his nature. Just the walls he built around himself. The urge to protect his feelings, to hide them. He’s trying for you, trying hard to love you in a way that you will feel. And perhaps your shyness does help him peek out of his protective shell. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want to see you bloom as well.
“Good morning,” he whispers softly, his arm already reaching for you to bring you closer. Today you go easily, allowing him to embrace you and kiss the top of your head. Not a single squeak, not a single jerk that would betray your surprise.
“You were awake the whole time, right?” you murmur against his chest. Slowly you hug him back.
“Mhm,” he confirms wordlessly. He has yet to open his eyes. “Why?”
“Why didn’t you say anything?” you ask, your lips press against his skin in a pout. At times like these Wonwoo’s especially glad he doesn’t wear a shirt when he sleeps. He smiles. He might not be able to see you now, but you’re adorable when you’re sulking.
“You’d stop,” he answers simply. You don’t try to disprove that statement.
It’s quiet for a moment, only the sheets rustling while he readjusts the blanket to cover your shoulders. You must hear how ridiculous his heart is being. All simply because you’re cuddled up to him like this, warming him up more than any blanket or the sun could.
“Thank you for not saying anything,” you eventually whisper. He doesn’t push for you to tell him why, doesn’t push for you to stop being shy. One day you’ll realize there’s no need.
And when you do, he thinks he’s going to miss moments like these.
GENRE: Fluff, smut, angst. Non idol AU. College AU. Best friends to lovers. Slice of life.
WARNINGS: Explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (stay safe!), so much fluff you might pass out
WORD COUNT: 18.3k
DESCRIPTION: It is said that if someone folds 1000 paper cranes, they will receive one wish. Kim Taehyung has been folding you paper cranes since he was six years old. He won’t tell you what he’s going to wish for once he reaches his goal, but even into your twenties, all you know is that he’s been wishing for the same thing every time.
You’re six years old when you receive your first paper crane from Kim Taehyung.
Your first year of elementary school is almost over—there’s only two months left until summer break, and you’ve been counting down the days until you are finally free to wake up as late as you want and play with your friends until the sun goes down.
That’s also why it strikes you as odd that there’s a new transfer student, his newly assigned seat right beside yours, being introduced to the class. His eyes are big and wide underneath a fringe of dark brown hair, and he’s cute in the way that all kids are cute—with rosy cheeks, big ears, and a shy demeanour that tells you that he would most likely rather have stayed at his previous school.
After a brief introduction of Hello, I’m Kim Taehyung, he shuffles over and takes his seat. He doesn’t really look at you, keeping his head down as he pulls his notebooks from his backpack. You see that the margins are covered in doodles, little cartoons and make-believe stories etched onto every far corner of the page.
You open your mouth to introduce yourself, but the sound of your teacher’s voice has you facing the blackboard once more. You try not to think too hard about the new boy sitting beside you, gently humming to himself as he doodles butterflies in an open meadow.
At recess, you’re playing with a few friends, doing cartwheels and rolling around on the grass. You’re giggling with your friend, Chaeyoung, when you hear a ruckus happening not too far away.
synopsis: it's your first anniversary as a married couple but not only did you forget today's special occasion, you also didn't prepare a self-made gift for your husband -- except for the bundle of joy in your womb.
rating: 18+
word count: 5.2k
tags/content warning: married au, pregnancy, slight angst, miscommunication, mentions of infidelity (no one's cheating), mentions of food and being vegan (no one's vegan), usage of babe/baby as endearment, semi-public sex, SMUT in the forms of oral sex (m. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (don't do this unless you want kids or std), slight spanking, yoongi being a carpenter/loving husband/dumpling/etc.
this fic is inspired by the song "swing life away" by rise against and yoongi's woodcarving vlog :] enjoy!
Min Yoongi was many things.
He’s a skilled carpenter with his own woodshop business by day, and a rising songwriter/record producer by night. He’s a confident all-star basketball player back in his high school days and can still shoot perfectly whenever he plays with some of your shared friends in the backyard these days. He’s a great cook too, always indulging your cravings.
Min Yoongi was many things but most importantly, he’s your husband.
And a very observant one.
It’s been more than a month when he first noticed it. He wasn’t exactly sure what was “it,” but he knew it wasn’t good. He could tell there was something bothering in your mind one night you went home from work and claimed it’s nothing instead of ranting to him like the usual. Just a bad day at work.
A week after that was when you started to stay long hours at work, looking more pale and exhausted when you get home. It baffled Yoongi why you would spend more hours there if it’s stressing you and you’ve never actually worked overtime, but he knew he’s not one to talk about spending more time at work when he has two jobs and does one of those said jobs at home, so he shut his mouth. He didn’t say anything.
Not when you changed your perfume from an intoxicating fruity scent to a soft floral one. Not when he saw a receipt of you having your car interior cleaned and also changed the smell of it. Not when you didn’t want to have sex anymore, always pushing his hands away when they start to wander down there.
A lot of new small things bothered him, especially the last one but what made him almost lose it was when you had mistaken his dish, the one you claimed to be your favorite, for a different one.
x◇x◇x
“Do you like it?”
You nodded, despite still blowing the steam off of your spoon. When you finally tasted it though, he could tell on the look on your face that there’s something missing on his dish. “What is it? Did I not put enough fish sauce or tomato sauce?”
“You put fish sauce in this?” You asked, smiling adorably at your husband and reached across the table to hold his hand in assurance. “It tastes fine, babe, but there’s no need for fish sauce in this. You could’ve added more liver spread and cheese though. You know I love a lot of cheese in this.”
Yoongi closed his eyes for a moment to breathe. He understood the cheese part, you always add cheese to a lot of dishes that doesn’t even need cheese. “Y/N, I didn’t put liver spread because that dish doesn’t require liver spread. It needed fish sauce.”
“What are you talking about? Caldereta is all about the tender beef, tomato sauce, liver spread, and cheese!”
“That's afritada, Y/N. You’re favorite dish back home is afritada.”
Yoongi blinked and composed himself, trying not to look so wounded. He’s so damn sure you’re favorite was afritada, you’ve talked about it a lot. Hell, he’d already cooked it a couple of times before. He had the recipe that he searched online bookmarked on his browser, and he even went to the lengths of jotting them down on his journal just in case the link is taken down.
“Afritada… you mean this is chicken?” You scooped for some meat parts from the reddish soup dish, and there it was, your recent enemy: chicken. “I can’t eat chicken right now, Yoongi, I'm sorry.” You sat straight up, covering your mouth and nose with your hand.
“Of course, it’s chicken. It’s always been chicken, Y/N. It’s a chicken dish, that’s why you love it so much. Or loved, apparently, judging by your actions tonight.”
“I'm sorry,” your voice came out muffled as your hand was still covering your mouth.
“When did you start hating chicken?” he asked as he stood up to take your plate away and check the pantry to prepare something else for you.
“Um, my coworker, Seokhoon, he’s practicing to be a vegan lately so we thought we’d support him by also not eating meat…”
Yoongi’s ears perked up, hearing how your answer sounded uncertain and more like a question, so he pressed more, looking over his shoulder at you. “You were more than ready and excited to eat beef and cheese earlier but you wouldn’t eat chicken right now?”
You stared dumbfoundingly at him before shrugging. “I’m trying with small things like egg and chicken.”
“I made you an omelet for breakfast earlier.” He pointed out, holding your gaze.
“I… just started… to try being vegan earlier at lunch. And also meat are becoming pricey these days, our salary might not be enough. Sooner or later, we’re gonna have to cut back on our expenses. What would you rather give up—chicken or beef?”
Of course, Yoongi would rather eat tofu and bean sprouts for the rest of his life if it meant you get to eat properly and satisfy your cravings. But he didn’t bother to reply that as he cooked you a different dish that night. Fuck Seokhoon for influencing you to be vegan. Fuck the government for the rising prices and not handling the economy better.
x◇x◇x
Ever since that dinner night, Yoongi began to question your marriage. He wanted to talk to you because he didn’t know what to make of your actions anymore, but everytime you two were in the room together, he could you tell you were uncomfortable and couldn’t wait to get out of the situation. Besides, he’s afraid to ask because he knows he’s not prepared for any possible answers you'll give him.
You cheated? Yoongi knew it’s impossible. It had to be because he wouldn’t know what to do with that with that revelation. That would honestly break him.
You lost your job and was just actually driving around town to look for a new one and pass the time? It sounded stupid but not impossible. He would be disappointed and wish that you had told him sooner to prepare and possibly take on a third job.
You’re pregnant? He supposed this is a realistic scenario. You two had talked about this sincerely before getting married, of course, both wanting two kids. He just feels like it’s still early for babies and you two haven’t done all your goals as a married couple before becoming parents.
So he told himself to wait, that you would open up to him when you’re finally ready to unburden your problems. He’s a patient man after all.
But his patience seemed to be running thin today on the morning of your anniversary when he rolled over to your side as he woke up to cuddle you closer and hopefully start the day buried inside you.
He knew you’re awake, even with your eyes closed. You've been waking up earlier than him lately, one of your many changing habits. He took your hand that was hugging your stomach and pressed a soft kiss on your fingers, on your palm, on your wrist, trailing them across your arm up to your shoulder.
“Y/N,” he whispered your name, wishing for you to open your eyes when he nipped at your jaw. He called your name once again as his lips were ghosting over yours. Your eyelashes fluttered open just enough to look at him and when he finally saw your eyes, he leaned down to kiss you deeply.
You freed your hand from his to curl your fingers up into his long hair, urging him closer while the other slid up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his body that you’ve been missing for weeks now. You pulled your knees up as Yoongi settled himself in between your legs, grinding his hard cock against your core.
But just as his own hand started to drift down on your hips, you slowed down, giving his lips one last kiss before pressing your forehead to his. You both stayed there without any movements at all, just gasping for air and holding each other’s skin and flesh tightly every now and then.
When it sounded like you were about to apologize, he pressed a kiss on your forehead and whispered, “Happy anniversary, baby,” before bolting right out of the bed, before you could even say it back to him.
x◇x◇x
Despite your husband having his own woodshop and fulfilling his dreams in the music industry, you didn’t let go of your job when you and Yoongi got married.
You were on your way back to your desk from your third visit to the bathroom that morning when you saw the delivery man on the front door of the store carrying a gigantic bouquet of flowers he almost disappeared behind it.
“Min Y/N?” he asked, looking around the store.
Jia turned to the direction of the bathroom and pointed at you when she saw you. You stayed your feet at your place. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move. The flowers looked beautiful—a bouquet of pale and dark red carnations, along with sunflowers, wrapped meticulously in craft paper and tied with a golden ribbon—but there’s a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach that’s making it hard for you to appreciate this.
“This is for you!” The delivery man presented the bouquet to you with a proud smile. When you didn’t move, he gingerly took your arms to place the flowers in them and then took off.
A minute must have passed by yet none of you and your colleagues moved or talked. It wasn’t until a client came in and needed assistance. Jia wrapped her arm around you and walked you back to your desk. As you sat down, you caught sight of the red card sticking out of the flowers. HAPPY 1ST ANNIVERSARY, BABY.
Reading Yoongi's handwritten note, you recognized that bad feeling again that you knew all too well lately. Shame and guilt. You had to close your eyes and practice your breathing exercises before those bad feelings in your stomach turn into a pile of chunky vomit across the floor.
Jia, oblivious to your anxiety, swooned over the flowers. “Happy anniversary, Y/N!”
It’s the second greeting you’ve received today and you couldn’t help but wince when you remember how you froze when Yoongi greeted you.
You didn’t know how this special event slipped up your mind when staring at your calendar was all you’ve been doing lately. You were aware that your own anniversary was near and you even had a lot of ideas for DIY gifts to give to your husband.
You tried to make it up to Yoongi by going after him and showering together to have some hot shower sex even though the thought of sex was making you nervous lately. Yoongi turned down the offer though, saying you’re both gonna be late for work, which was a very pathetic excuse considering he’s his own boss and your own work doesn’t start in a couple of hours. So you showered together in silence.
Just as you’re about to calm down, you’re eyes widened in panic because not only you forgot your own anniversary day, of course you also forgot to actually make a gift despite tons of ideas in your journal and Pinterest board.
“Jia, I didn’t get him a gift!” It wasn’t even noon yet, and you’re already close to breaking down for the third time today.
“Well, the department store is just around the corner. I can come with you at lunch to buy something last minute.”
You shook your head and explained to her that buying some expensive stuff isn’t enough. Knowing your husband, he already made you a gift days ago. You’re not sure if it’s something from his woodshop or if he composed you a song, all you know is Yoongi probably made you a gift with love. No amount of money could compare to that.
“Well, there’s always sex?” At the sight of your face crumpling once again, Jia took back her suggestion. “Or not! Honestly, Y/N, this is why I’m all single and alone in life so I don’t have to give people gifts and you’re making me stress about your own anniversary gift.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“And really, you’re worrying about gifts when…” she paused to look down at your belly. “Have you told him yet?”
You shook your head.
“Well, there’s your anniversary gift, congratulations!”
“This is a stupid gift." Despite your harsh words, you wrapped arm protectively around your middle.
“Why? You said you want to give him something you made, well you made that. He even helped, too!”
You couldn’t possibly just announce you’re pregnant on your anniversary day? Right? Sure, it’s convenient and practical – two celebrations in one night!
But that’s not the actual thing that’s been bothering you. You’ve been hiding your condition to your husband for weeks now, when you should have told him that he’s a gonna be a dad the moment you saw the plus sign on a stick. But you didn’t because you’re scared and if you’re gonna be honest, also selfish. Selfish to have Yoongi the Husband™️ all to yourself just for a couple more days before he turns into Yoongi, your husband and the father of your unborn fetus. And then that selfishness turns into guilt for not telling him, for distancing yourself.
A part of you wished he’ll figure it out on his own, that’ll save you a speech.
x◇x◇x
Even before you started to spent late hours at work, Yoongi always comes home an hour or so before you. It usually gives him enough time to prepare for dinner.
However today, he asked his friend Seokjin to prepare a romantic dinner for you two as he would busy himself installing the porch swing he made as his anniversary gift for you.
With his long hair tied in a half bun, a few strands tucked behind his ears and locked into place with pins, and a safety googles on his face, Yoongi began by drilling two holes up into the ceiling joists where he would screw the hooks. When he’s done and swept away the dust, he took the chains that’s wrapped in rope for extra support and aesthetic purposes and attached them to swing before hoisting them up to the hooks.
Despite wanting his gift to be all handmade, Yoongi had no choice but to buy a small foam mattress and throw pillows to decorate the swing. He placed them all nicely and removed his googles before sitting down and testing the swing if it runs smoothly.
Swinging for a couple of minutes gave Yoongi enough time to relax from the stress of his jobs, from setting this swing up, from all his fears and worries.
It gave him enough peace from all the doubts and questions inside his head. He hoped that this would give you the same. He hoped that you seeing this swing – the one you dreamed for so long, the one that he promised you because how could he ever say no – will help you remember that the fact that you two get to celebrate this day was because of your love for each other and the trust you’ve built all these years even before marrying.
Yoongi had set up the swing in the right side of the house, facing a line of tall trees that secludes this house from the main road, and close enough to the backyard for some peace and privacy that if anyone walks or drives in to your lot, they wouldn’t see you right away as the beams would hinder their sight. But anyone who’s sitting here would see just fine if there’s someone coming in.
Just like Yoongi saw your car rolled in right away to park next to his pickup truck. He stood up and waved his arm to call your attention, excited to show you his gift. When you didn’t see him, he jogged up to the front and flashed a smile when you jumped up in surprise at the sight of him.
“What are you doing outside?”
“I have to show you something, come on!” He went to cover your eyes for surprise and guided you to the back.
You were expecting some surprise in the backyard, probably a dinner he cooked but your assumptions came into a halt as Yoongi stopped only after taking a few steps. When he removed his hands and told you to open your eyes, a cozy porch swing greeted your sight.
“That’s…” you trailed off, walking closer and wrapping your hand around the chain-rope. From the bulky design of the chain and rope to the uneven height of the wooden slabs of the back support, Yoongi made you the exact wooden swing that you drunkenly drew a long time ago when you two just started dating.
“Happy anniversary, Y/N.” You heard Yoongi say behind you, and you wish he had said it the way he greeted you this morning – with such coldness and hurt. You felt like you didn’t deserve this with the way you’ve been treating him this past month.
Not wanting to hurt him any longer and bring back normalcy in your relationship, you turned to look at him, your eyes teary and said, “I… I'm sorry, babe.”
“Why? What is it?”
“I…” You cleared your throat and wondered which should you say first: you didn’t get him any gift, or you’re pregnant. You figured you should go with the bad news first before softening the mood with the good news, you’re just not sure which is which. “I didn’t get you any gift. I actually forgot it’s our anniversary today, I’m sorry.”
Yoongi fell silent before chuckling nervously. Sure, forgetting your own anniversary was bad, but that’s little compared to what Yoongi was imagining these past few days. “That’s alright, I thought it was something serious.”
“Why? What did you think I was going to say?” you prodded before you drop your next bomb.
“I don’t know what I thought, honestly. Things haven’t been quite well with us lately, Y/N.” He shrugged, scratching his nape. “I thought of pregnancy. There’s one where you don’t actually have a job anymore and just didn’t want to say it. I also thought you’re cheating with fucking Seokhoon—”
“Seok-Seokhoon? Why the hell would you think that? I couldn’t stand that guy.”
“I don’t know Y/N, you tell me, you’re the one who suddenly didn’t want to eat chicken because fucking Seokhoon is trying to be vegan.”
You thought about the lamb chops Seokhoon devoured at lunch today. You also remembered the night Yoongi was referring to, when you almost spilled your guts literally and figuratively at the smell of the chicken.
“Seokhoon isn’t vegan. But one of your hunches is true.” You walked towards him, taking his hand in yours and placing it on your stomach. “I’m pregnant.”
Yoongi froze for a minute, staring at your eyes down to your stomach that he’s touching. His gummy smile slowly broke into his face, giggling as he asked to confirm, “Pregnant? With babies?”
You nodded, matching his smile. “Yeah, pregnant, but hopefully just a singular baby. Or fetus, I’m not sure, I haven’t been to a clinic yet. I was putting it off because I want you to be there at the first checkup since I left you in the dark when I took the test. I'm really sorry about that, Yoongi, I just didn’t know how to say it. I was scared and nervous myself about this baby and I kn—”
Yoongi cut off your ramblings by kissing you. “I'm sorry. I'm sorry I thought you were cheating when you were feeling this way all on your own. I should’ve asked you.”
You shook you head. “I'm sorry I let you think that, too. But there’s no way I would’ve betray you for Seokhoon or anyone else, really. I love you so much, Yoongi.”
You stood in your toes to kiss him again, muttering again and again how much you love him and how sorry you were. His hands stayed firmly on each side of you, and you didn’t pushed him away this time. You looped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer.
This one kiss – after all those weeks of just pecking and short kisses, after the frustrating mess that happened earlier morning – was so hungry and powerful and mind-numbing. You wouldn’t even wanna stop if a lightning strike near you two. You missed him so much, you would’ve take him right here, right now.
But Yoongi pulled away, breathing ruggedly as he said, “You haven’t tried it yet.”
“Tried the what yet?”
“The swing, don’t you wanna take a ride on it?”
Despite his innocent question referring to the swing, your eyes mischievously glinted and an idea popped into your mind. You took his hand and gestured for him to sit down. Trying to calm yourself down, you kissed your husband first before prying his legs open and kneeling down between them, instead of sitting beside him.
“What are you doing?” he smirked, enjoying the sight in front of him.
“I was thinking I could ride you on it instead, but first…”
With a coy smile, you unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down along with his underwear, freeing his hard cock. Licking your lips in anticipation, you wrapped your hand around him, thumb circling at the precum beading on his crown.
Yoongi hissed at sensation, bucking his hips up. “Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. It’s been a month.” His hands ran through your hair to keep them out of the way and prompted for you to start.
“Happy anniversary,” you greeted him before placing sloppy, wet mouth kisses on the head of his dick and moving them down while your hand was steadily stroking the base and the other was gently squeezing and rolling his balls.
When you made sure to coat every inch of his cock with your saliva, you kissed his crown one more time before taking him in your mouth, trying to fit whatever you can while your hand covered the rest.
“Ahh, that feels so good, babe. I’ve really missed you,” he rasped.
You moaned around him as you felt yourself getting wet even just at the sound of his voice and at the feeling of his heavy cock sliding in and out of your mouth. One of his hands weaved into your hair once again to carefully guide you at the pace he wanted. He bit his lip in concentration as he tried to restrain himself from just snapping his hips up to fuck your face but failing a couple of times, making you choke and teary-eyed.
Yoongi couldn’t help but groan at the sight of you, mouth wide open full of his cock, eyes in tears staring up at him. His other hand cupped your jaw, his thumb caressing your cheek.
“You’re doing so good, baby, taking my cock so well.”
His moans were getting louder and he started to lose control of his hips, a sign that Yoongi’s close to his orgasm. You released his cock to tease him a little bit, swirling your tongue over again at the sensitive spot of his crown as you pumped his length, making him all whiny as he repeated your name again and again like a mantra along with few curse words, before sucking him whole again with the intention of swallowing his hot cum. Which Yoongi delivered, a lot. And loudly.
You pulled yourself off of his cock, still semi-hard, and opened your mouth to show him that you’ve swallowed every drop of his cum. Still breathing heavily, Yoongi smiled proudly at you. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me, Y/N baby. Come here.”
“Not to doubt you, but are you sure this won’t give out on us?” You asked, looking up at the ceiling where the swing is hanging.
“Of course not, at least three people can sit here. We’ll be fine, even when we finally have our kid sitting down here with us,” he replied, helping you get up at your feet.
You stared down at him, grinning at the thought of your kid playing at this very porch swing their daddy made in the future. But first, it’s gonna mommy and daddy’s turn on the swing for a while.
Because of the disastrous shower session earlier, you tried to make it up to your husband by wearing his favorite black lace lingerie underneath one of your red dress that gave out the equal vibe of classy and slutty to entice him on. You also figured, might as well wear them while you still can.
You unbuttoned the dress open from the top, revealing the lacy bra, causing Yoongi to raise his eyebrows.
“You wore lingerie to work?”
“Yeah, it turned out to be quite itchy and uncomfortable to wear for a long time actually,” you pouted. “Help me out of it, please.”
Yoongi leaned forward, one of his hands held you firmly by your waist while the other slipped beneath your dress, running his fingertips along the edge of your underwear before pulling them aside to sink a finger inside your cunt and moving it in a ‘come hither' motion. He added another finger while his thumb drew circles on your clit to send you over the edge.
You gasped, your hands paused from unclasping your bra to balance yourself on your husband’s shoulders as he stretched you out, spreading your slick all over your slit. When your juices had dripped down on his wrist, Yoongi took that as a cue that you’re wet enough and hooked his hands around your underwear to remove them before pulling you into his lap.
He gathered the skirt of your dress, bunching them up to your waist. You bit your lower lip as your pussy was pressing against his cock, feeling hard and thick against your wet core. Feeling impatient as Yoongi kissed your neck, you tried to move your hips, chasing that pleasure the friction gave you, in which you earned a gentle slap in the ass from him.
“Take this off,” he said, toying with the strap of your bra.
You nodded like a good girl, unclasping them from behind and took the straps of your shoulders. Yoongi pulled down your dress, revealing your tits. He stared at them for a second, both of his hands cupping each breast gently, thumbs grazing your soft skin and hardened nipple. You were about to make a joke when he leaned down to start licking and sucking one of your tits, while he massaged the other one.
While he was busy, you attempted to get yourself off by rocking your hips against him again, whether on his cock or his thigh, you didn’t care. A cry left your lips when he slapped your ass once again, a bit harder this time, before proceeding to grab your ass in his hands and dig his fingers in to help you move. You whimpered every time your sensitive clit rubbed pass his tip, making him almost poked your entrance.
Yoongi switched his attention on your other tit, but never faltering his movement to make you come on his cock. He could feel you’re close, your folds fluttering against his cock, your hips jerking more uncontrollably, your juices running down on his skin to the foam cushion he newly bought, making a mental note to buy a new one.
“Y—Yoongi…” you moaned, eyes scrunched close and head thrown back. “Oh, I'm gonna—oh fuck Yoongi—”
He looked up from your chest to stare at the fucked out expression on your face as you come, his hands on your hips controlling your move to help you ride out your orgasm. When he felt that you’re almost done coming down from your high, Yoongi lifted you up to line his tip against your entrance and helped you sink down on his cock. You moaned loudly at the feeling of your cunt being stretched out so deliciously after a month without an intercourse.
None of you spoke for a while, but you were thankful that Yoongi didn’t fuck you right away and instead let you adjust to the size as he sucked and nibbled every inch of your skin.
“If I’m pregnant right now, does that mean we don’t need a condom for a while? Or you can still get me pregnant while I’m pregnant?”
“It can happen, but it’s rare.” Yoongi saw your concerned expression, so he asked, “Do you want me to wear one?”
You smiled and shook your head immediately. “No. I want to feel you.” With that being said, you hooked your arms across his shoulders and started to bounce on his cock, grinding your clit on his pelvis everytime you come down.
Despite the frustrations and longing that Yoongi had built up for a month, he managed to calmly hold back and sit there as you ride him. At the back of his mind, he was also hesitant to pound his dick in and out of you without a care because he’s afraid he might hurt the baby. So he let you control the pace while his hands wander over your body, palming your tits and smacking your ass.
“Ahh Yoongi… please, fuck me.” You couldn’t keep your upper body straight anymore as your walls began on clenching around his dick, so you leaned your head on his shoulder. “I can’t—I feel so close again…”
“I know, baby, I got you now. You did great,” Yoongi whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on your head. He gripped your thighs in place, thrusting his hips upward into you and picked up the pace to bring you to your second orgasm.
You cried out in pleasure as Yoongi kept hitting that sweet spot inside you, your body beginning to tremble in his arms. You could feel him getting close too by the way his thrusts were being quick and sloppy so you curled your hand around the curly strands on his nape, your lips leaving wet kisses on his neck as you tried to give him hickeys.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, holy shit baby…”
You were lucky you live in a remote place and didn’t have any neighbors for miles as they would’ve surely heard Yoongi's loud groans and your high-pitched moans as you came together. Yoongi had thrust one more time inside you, bringing your hips down as he flushed your bodies together and filled your cunt with his thick cum.
None of you wanted to move at that moment, just catching up on your breaths and occasionally rocking your hips into each other for a potential round two when your stomach had a sudden craving — dumplings.
And dumplings reminded you of — “Oh my, god, we’re gonna have a baby dumpling in a few months.”
“I’m not a dumpling,” he groaned, burying his face on the crook of your neck as you laugh.
Min Yoongi was many things—a carpenter, a songwriter and producer, a basketball player, a dumpling (despite his denial), your loving husband, and in a few months, a proud father.
Hello! Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it and please, reblogs and feedbacks are always welcome and appreciated :)
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synopsis. you thought you were over yoongi’s dick move of ending your engagement through his parents - not even a text when he disappeared out of your life. that’s why you agreed to the newly arranged marriage with his brother, namjoon, but on the brink of your wedding day, it becomes apparent that you haven’t really let go of the past as you tear up in front of your soon-to-be husband at the back room of the church.
◟alternatively, “we entered into this marriage for a mutual reason. not dreading to come home is more than i can ask for. so it’s okay if you want to see yoongi just… keep out of the spotlight like many in our shoes who found love outside of it have.”
pairings. husband!ceo!namjoon x doctor!reader x ex-fiance!producer!yoongi
genre. arraged marriage au. angst. fluff. smut.
word. 16.2k
content: age gap factor (namjoon is 5 years older than oc and yoongi is 7 years older than oc). pining. teasing. hoseok cockblocking.
warning(s): heavy adult content. mentions of cheating. hospital scenes.
verse. knj. ksj. myg. kth. pjm. jjk. jhs. story time.
x
“i don’t want to marry you at all. the person i love is someone else.” there are tears brimming in your eyes but if there’s anything the years of etiquette class namjoon’s parents forced on him taught him - he’d say he turned out okay - it’s to not mention to the crying lady that she’s crying. but he can’t help stare a little longer. admire a little too much.
the rays flooding through the window paired with the prettiest ivory dress he’s seen you in gives you an iridescent halo. you look like an angel descended from the top most heavens.
but not for him.
“i know,” he lets out a drawn out sigh, hand on his neck. he’s always been the awkward one between the two. if it was him - if it was his brother, he would say it without any ounce of self-reproach. but then again what does namjoon have to be sorry for? for being born? for being the second choice son to step into his brother’s shoes when the aforementioned man threatened to disown the family name if their parents refused to let him marry a girl of his choice who, according to the workers’ gossip, ‘he suddenly woke up one day and decided he was in love with’?
Summary: When your editor tells you to re-write the chapters of your book because the sex scenes are weak, suggesting you write them from experience, what do you do when you lack any kind of sexual experiences in general? You go to your friend and ask him for help with it.
Genre: ONESHOT. Fluff, tiny angst, smut, non idol au. Friends to Lovers.
Warnings: Producer Yoongi, virgin and inexperienced reader, teaching-sex au. From Yoongi’s POV. Yoongi is relatable and slightly overthinks and is a little socially awkward, but he’s whipped for her and cute as fuck. There’s lots of smut in this. Long hair Yoongi. Side pairing Jikook. Some text messages edited, but not a smau.
A/N: Happy birthday to our favorite cat boy! The love of our lives, the man who gets proposals on the daily!
WC: 29k.
MAIN MASTERLIST I If you want another Yoongi Oneshot
SEPTEMBER 18TH | 19:35
Ever since Yoongi met you at a coffee shop four years ago, when you simply asked him to look after your computer while you used the bathroom, coming back with an orange muffin for him as a ‘thank you’, visiting him in the studio wasn’t a rare feature in itself for you. But Yoongi knew those eyes.
Even in emoji form, the pleading, puppy-kitty eyes told him you wanted something from him. And, chances were, you’d get it. No matter what it was. From picking you up in the middle of the night because you were craving convenience store corn dogs, to going to the bulk supermarket with you once a month because the prices were better and he could reach things you simply could not.
It didn’t help that he had a spring in his step as he got up from his rolling chair and walked to the door of his production studio, quickly typing out the code that unlocked it. And there you were, standing in the slightly dark hallway, heavy backpack thrown precariously over a shoulder –even if he always told you to put on both straps, lest your back get crooked–, a pout on your lips and the perfect copy of the aforementioned pleading eye emoji.
You were already stepping out of your shoes, knowing Yoongi didn’t like them inside his space, and throwing your arms around his middle as you hid your face on his chest. Now that wasn’t a common occurrence at all. Yoongi didn’t like people in his personal space, a fact you very much knew and respected. Then again, you weren’t just people.
“What happened?” he asked, arms wrapping around your smaller frame almost instantly, resisting the urge to sniff the top of your head.
“Kibhamun.” was your muffled reply, making him chuckle.
“What was that?”
“Kim Namjoon.” you corrected, pulling away from him to step into the studio properly, placing your bag on the floor as you dropped to his couch.
Ah, yes, Kim Namjoon.
Yoongi’s best friend, the chairman of a family run publishing company.
Call it nepotism, but Yoongi had introduced the two of you and put in a good word for you, so that his dongsaeng would read your manuscript; the one you had been working on on that fateful day at the coffee shop. To this day, Yoongi still insisted you got a publishing contract –and now had three books out in bookstores of South Korea– all on your own.
Namjoon took every opportunity to tease Yoongi about his obvious crush on you, which was a small price to pay for not only the friendship that blossomed between you and Joon, but for the fact you were able to kickstart your career as a writer.
“I'm trashing my book.” you said with the jutting out of your bottom lip, folding your arms on your chest and your legs under you.
“What–why? You were so excited to hand in the new chapters last week.” Yoongi sat down on the couch beside you, with one seat cushion still between you. His brows were knitted together as he wondered just how wrong your meeting with your editor had gone down this afternoon.
“Yes, but your best friend changed that.” you grumbled with a tiny shrug of your shoulders, leaning sideways against the couch to lay your head on the backrest.
With a sigh and the tilting of his head to mimic yours, Yoongi asked: “What did he do now?”
“He said my new chapters are shit.”
“He did not say that.” Yoongi reasoned.
He was the blunt one of the two, there’s no way Namjoon would ever say something of that nature to you. If your chapters were bad, he’d give you pointers and ways of making them better. But you were resolute.
“Not with so many words, but the sentiment was there!” you complained with a pretty pout that made Yoongi’s gaze flit to your plump lips.
“What happened, doll?” he asked, a little softer, knowing how to work you into telling him what really happened.
You sighed dramatically, back straightening as you looked down to your hands on your lap. Yoongi followed the movement, watching how you fiddled with the ring on your middle finger of your left hand; it had belonged to your grandma once, he knew, and you always wore it when you needed that little extra pick-me-up.
“Apparently I can't write smut.” you told him so quietly he barely heard you.
Your new book, the one you’ve been working on for the past three months, had adult scenes in it. Not necessary essential to the plot but not gratuitous fucking either. Just something to spice it up, to open up to a different market. You were never scared of trying something new and Yoongi admired that.
Yoongi himself was the kind of person that never even changed his coffee order, sticking to it forever when he found the one he liked. You were brave and adventurous, while Yoongi liked his routine and comfort zone.
“What makes you say that?” he asked you once you didn’t elaborate.
“Joon said I got many things wrong. I believe his exact words were 'it doesn't happen like that, that's not how it tastes, or how it feels’–” you said with a roll of your eyes, which made Yoongi bite back a chuckle. But then your fire was aimed at him: “You've read the chapters! Why didn't you tell me it was shit?!”
“It wasn't shit–”
How could he tell you the reason he didn't notice some things were off was because when reading your smut, all he could do was picture you? And him. In the various situations you wrote in rich descriptions. Like a fucking creep, he got off to his friend's writing.
“Yeah, well, I'm a fraud.”
“You're not a fraud, doll.” the pet name he had for you came out a lot more natural now than the first few times he blurted them out on slips of the tongue, but it still made his neck flush.
“No, no, Joon is right. I know he wasn't trying to hurt me, and I don't want to publish something bad either.” you insisted, quieting the fidgeting of your hands after turning the ring on your finger a few times. “Just... he said I should write from experience.”
“Oh. Yeah, that usually helps when writing lyrics, too.”
Yoongi felt cold sweat clinging to his back as he wouldn’t want to read about your sex adventures, if you started writing about them in your new book. Some of the things you wrote about were pretty wild, Yoongi could only imagine what you were up to in your private life. You never really told him about it, but he guessed it was something you shared with your girlfriends. Or Jimin. Not with him.
“That’s the problem.” again, you spoke too quietly. “I don't have them.”
“Don’t have what?” he asked with the nervous nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip.
“The experiences to write about.” you supplied with a small grit of your teeth, as if you were pretending you weren’t the one saying those words.
“Sure you do. I'm sure you can change a few things to make it fit the plot–”
“No, Yoon.” you interrupted, crestfallen, rubbing your hands on your thighs in what should be a self soothing manner. “I haven't... Done anything.”
The weight of those news was shocking to him, but Yoongi tried not to let it show in his face. He watched you for a while, too, trying to decide if you were joking or trying to pull one on him, but your pink cheeks of embarrassment were too real and you weren’t that good of an actress.
It just didn’t really make sense to him. You were a few years younger than him, but not by much, and you were so pretty and clearly attractive. Whenever he agreed to go to a night out with your group –most likely being dragged out by a lying Hoseok that told him it would be chill– guys hit on you all the time, much to his own chagrin.
“Ever?” Yoongi hushed with a frown. This whole conversation had his forehead hurting from how confused he was.
“Ever.” you shook your head, a stray piece of hair moving out of place and Yoongi’s fingers flexed in want to fix it. “I'm not ashamed of it, okay? I'm also not saving myself for marriage or anything. I just never had a boyfriend and I didn't want to just hook up with a stranger for a night.”
“Yeah, no, that's... dangerous.” he agreed with a single nod of his own.
“Mhm! I mean, I thought that would happen with Jungkook the night we met. He was nice enough and just my type.” you said, not meaning much by it, but damn if it didn’t feel like a punch in the gut. Ouch. “But he turned out to be gay and only chatted with me to get to Jimin.”
“Yeah, I remember that.” Yoongi was there the night Jungkook showed up in their lives and would later become part of their small group and subsequently Jimin’s boyfriend.
“I don't know what to do, Yoon. I had so many hopes and plans for this book!” you cried, a hand running through your hair in frustration.
“I know, maybe... maybe you should read more smut? To be able to write it better?” he tried, but it only made you huff.
“If you look at my search history you'll think I’m a sex addict that should get an intervention.” you shook your head. “I’ve read it all.”
“Didn't Joon give you some advice? Isn't that his job as your editor?”
Yoongi might need to have a chat with his bestie, as his job was to help you out, not leave you feeling lost and defeated. Yoongi knew first hand how happy you were with your latest project, all of the twists and turns you had planned for it. And here you were, sulking on his couch, questioning whether or not you should throw it out.
“He did, and I'm starting to think he's right.” you said, and it gave Yoongi a glimmer of hope, giving up on scolding Namjoon. At least for now.
“There we go, what did he say?”
“He said that if I don't have any experiences to write about, then I should create some.” you avoided Yoongi's eyes as you said it, which didn’t help his choking on air.
“He said what–”
“It makes sense.” you insisted, gathering your courage to finally look at him.
“It does not– you can't possibly think that going out to find someone random to be your first is a good idea!” Yoongi couldn’t help how worked up he was getting over this. The mere hypothesis of you getting out there to find someone to lose your virginity to just for the sake of experiences was making his blood boil. “It's dangerous, and borderline traumatizing, and you can't expect to write well after that–”
“No, that's not what he said at all!” you waved a hand in the air, reaching for his arm with the other. Your touch was firm, but gentle at the same time. As you wanted to make sure he understood. “Joon didn’t mean I should find someone random.”
There Yoongi went, with the choking again. Because your eyes… Those eyes that were the front door to your soul. They told him so much. And Yoongi was slightly scared to read what they were trying to tell him at that moment.
“He said I should consider talking to a friend.” you continued after Yoongi didn’t say anything, but your hand stayed in his arm. “Someone I trust, someone I know won't use me, and that won't let things get awkward after.”
Okay, Yoongi would have to have that chat with Namjoon afterall. He could just about imagine his best friend sitting in his suburban house right now, with a drink in his hand, chuckling to himself, thinking he was a mastermind.
Of course he planned all of this. Namjoon knew of Yoongi’s feelings for you, and he knew that he’d be the one you’d come to with this. He just hadn’t decided if Namjoon was trying to play cupid or pull a prank on him.
“You're considering it?” Yoongi asked, not wanting to believe what was happening right now.
“I've decided. I'm either doing that or throwing the whole book away and starting something else.” you sounded so sure of yourself that Yoongi really started to worry. “Which would just be stressful, because I'm already way into the deadlines. So what's it gonna be?”
“Wha-why are you asking me?” Yoongi’s heart was going a mile a minute inside his chest, and it most definitely wasn’t the caffeine he’d been drinking all day.
“Are you going to make me say it?” you pleaded, squeezing his bicep just once.
“Yes, because I don’t know what you want from me.” he wheezed.
“I trust you.”
“No, you're not serious. You want me to–”
“Teach me, yeah.” you assured him, tugging on the sleeve of the cardigan he was wearing. “Or at least have those experiences with me so that I know how things work.”
Yoongi was about to start hyperventilating. Maybe he had drunk so much coffee all his adult life that it didn’t work on him anymore and he fell asleep on his desk and this was all a dream. Because there’s no way in hell that the girl he had a crush on for the past four years –yet wasn’t brave enough to do something about it– was asking him to–
“Are you even attracted to me?!” his voice came out more high pitched than he wanted, making him cough behind his fist.
With a deadpan, you stated: “I have eyes, Yoongi.”
“And also a nose and a mouth, what does that have to do with anything?”
“I think you're hot!” you specified with a giggle and Yoongi went back to the dream axiom. “Especially ever since you decided to let your hair grow long. And I like your face.”
“Thanks.” it should have come out as sarcasm, but his face was too red and the word sounded too breathy.
“And you’re... strong and tall.” you continued, eyes obviously settling on the width of his chest.
“Hoseok is taller, why didn't you ask him?” Yoongi didn’t mean to ask that, not one bit, not for a second. It was just one of those things that came out of his mouth when he was nervous.
“I can. I'll go to him after I leave here, if you really say no.” you were clearly taken aback, hand finally dropping from his arm as you pulled back just a little further away from him. You blinked a few times before offering him an awkward smile. “Which you're already doing. Yeah, sorry, no, I just assumed that you'd be up for it because, after Jimin, you're my closest friend. But I guess being close to someone doesn't mean you're attracted to them? God, this is awkward, I don't know why I just assumed that.”
You were getting up and Yoongi was panicking. Because he didn’t want you to think that he wasn’t attracted to you, and he didn’t want to offend you. But, above all, he didn’t want you to bring this to Hoseok.
Because Hoseok might say yes.
Honestly, not many people he knows would ever say no to you.
“Wait, that's not what I meant.” Yoongi insisted as you were already standing and on the way of going after your backpack.
“No, Yoon, it's fine!” you waved him off, as if trying to take the burden you had dropped on him off. “Might be better to do it with someone I'm not that close to, anyway. I'll try Hobi.”
“Doll, stop, hang on.” Yoongi reached for your wrist as you walked in front of him and you stopped your stride. “Let me consider this.”
“You don't have to.” you repeated, but didn't take your wrist from his grasp and didn’t walk away.
“What is it you want, exactly? And please be honest with me, so we both know what we're getting ourselves into here and so there's no misunderstandings.” if he was even entertaining the idea of saying yes to this crazy plan, then he needed you to be as straightforward as possible.
“I haven't thought this far? But I guess we could do stuff.”
“I said to be specific.” Yoongi pressed.
You huffed and, dare he say, squirmed, as you sat down on the couch again, this time closer to him. “I mean, would you fuck me? You know, so I know how it works? And, uhm. Stuff?”
“Stuff?”
“Yeah, we should probably start with, like... Kissing. Handjobs? I'd like to suck you off if you're okay with that?”
Nevermind his dreaming theory, Yoongi might have died and this was his personal version of heaven. Or maybe hell, depending how long it would take for you to start laughing in his face, saying that Namjoon was right and he would fall for it. But that wasn’t like you at all, too sweet and nice for your own good, and –despite his little hours of sleep and caffeine intake– Yoongi was pretty healthy to have died all of a sudden.
“You can't be serious.” Yoongi was still incredulous.
“I am! And I can ask Hobi, you don't have to feel pressured.” you told him as the wrist he was still holding on to finally slipped from his grasp, but just so you could hold his hand instead. “Even though this is all Namjoon’s fault and you're the one who introduced me to him and so this is also your fault, and I think you should fix it.”
There it was, the arguments, the innocent guilt trip, your special little way of getting Yoongi to do what you wanted, while not actually forcing him to do anything he didn’t want. And this? You? This was something he wanted. For a really long time. This might not be the way he ever thought he would get to be with you, but if anything, Yoongi was an opportunist.
And he wasn’t about to let you walk into the studio next door to ask Hoseok to do this favor for you. He’d never forgive himself if he let you walk away now, if he handed you over to one of his closest friends. You might fall in love with each other, get married, and make Yoongi give a speech during the ceremony. You might even name your first born after Yoongi.
“So.” you squeezed his hand, looking at the difference in size of your palms. “What do you say?”
“You're crazy. But if you're gonna do this anyway.” his shrug was supposed to be nonchalant.
“Yes! Yoon, thank you! Okay, so what do we do? I promise I'll pay attention!” your excitement made him chuckle, despite the weight of reality slowly sinking in, and untamed butterflies going haywire in his stomach.
“Calm down, we're not starting right now.”
He needed time to let this new reality settle and tame his anxiety and the voices in his head that were screaming at him. Besides making a list of everything that could go wrong by having agreed with this.
“Right, I should probably shave down there.” you said with a side pout, as if you were thinking hard about what you had to do to prepare.
“You– that's not a problem.” Yoongi wanted to make sure you understood you were perfect, just as natural as you wanted to be, but he couldn’t just say that. “Just do what you feel comfortable with, this is not about me. You shouldn't have to worry about things like that, unless you want to.”
“Okay. I should still get on the pill, right?” you asked him, too innocently for the type of conversation you were having.
“I mean... maybe? You should talk to your doctor about it?” he had no idea really, as that question made Yoongi wonder just how much you needed help with. “There are side effects and long term commitments with that kind of stuff, that you shouldn't put yourself through just for a few experiences? And I'll get tested too, just so you're sure I'm clean.”
“I trust you, Yoon, I don't want you to go through that trouble.”
“It's no trouble, really, I've been meaning to do it anyways, just to be safe.” not that his own sex life was a particularly crazy one at that, and he always wore a condom.
“This is exciting. Nerve-wracking but exciting.” you giggled, looking at him as your fingers gently traced his knuckles.
This was the longest you had ever touched each other, even if it was just a simple hand holding. And his insides were already churning and he felt like he could pass out at any given moment, blood wasn’t reaching all the way to his brain apparently. He couldn’t even comprehend what it would be like to be intimate with you.
“I'm glad you think so.” he said with a low chuckle.
“Now we just... set up a time and place?”
“Mhmm.” he nodded, as there wasn’t much else he could do with how mentally frozen he was.
“Okay, but I really want to start fixing these chapters, so can you give me something today?” you asked sheepishly, fingers tightening around his.
“What?”
“Can you show me how to kiss?” was your request, and Yoongi’s eyes fell to your mouth on command.
“You've kissed before.” it wasn’t a question, but an affirmation. In fact, Yoongi had seen you kiss someone before.
It was years ago, during a stupid game of truth or dare –which was Jimin’s idea– during one of Taehyung’s house parties. Namjoon had thought it would be a good idea to make the two of you play, no doubt another ploy to get something to happen between the two of you. But luck was never on Yoongi’s side and you were dared to kiss another guy; some dude named Seo-joon that Tae knew from acting class.
“Yeah, but it was never satisfactory and I lack skills.” you told him, bringing him back to the present. “Besides, it might be good to break the ice. Make sure things don’t get awkward between us after I leave.”
“Why would things get awkward–”
“Are you saying you’re not going to overthink everything that just happened as soon as I walk out of this studio?” you challenged with a little grin and Yoongi rolled his eyes. “That’s what I thought.”
“Alright, I’ll kiss you.” he agreed, and there’s no way he ever thought he’d be saying those words to you.
“Gee, Yoon, thanks.” you were giggling as you got up from the couch to stand in the middle of the studio. “Try to pretend to be into it, at least.”
If you only knew.
Yoongi got up on wobbly legs, but pretended to stretch his back to get his body work properly. Walking the two steps it took to reach you was the most nerve wrecking course he ever had to take. But at least you looked as nervous as he felt, even if you were doing your best to mask it.
You stood in front of each other, awkwardly staring at one another, hands on your sides. And Yoongi knew he had to move. He had to take the lead, he was the one meant to be showing you how things worked, of course you wouldn’t take the first step. And unless he wanted you to change your mind and actually go to Hoseok instead, he had to act fast.
“Do you need a step by step guide?” he asked in a low voice, as if sharing a secret.
“I know how it works, I’m not that inexperienced.” you giggled, hitting his chest playfully.
Yoongi took your wrist as your hand landed on his chest in your pillowy light attempt of provoking him, bringing your hand up to rest it on the back of his neck. He didn’t miss the way your breath hitched, or your giggles replaced a soft gasp as his other arm circled your waist to bring your body flush against his, or even how your fingers softly threaded through the long hairs at his nape.
A lot was on the line when it came to this kiss, Yoongi realized wearily. It would be your first kiss together, something he only ever daydreamed about before. And it would set the tone for your future interactions. You could just as well change your mind after it, and it would not only be a blow to his self-esteem, but also his pride.
“It’s just me.” you said in a meek voice that did nothing to calm his nerves.
“I know.”
That’s the problem, he wanted to say.
Yoongi’s free hand touched the side of your face to tilt it up towards him, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. With a teeny sigh, your eyes fluttered closed and Yoongi took that chance to study your face, as he had never seen you so up close like this before. Even if you changed your mind later, he still committed your every trace, every little detail about you that he possibly could.
From your dark, long lashes that kissed the apples of your cheeks, to the outline of your cupid’s bow and your plump bottom lip. As you were about to open your eyes again, Yoongi pressed his lips to yours and you pulled back. Not enough for your mouths to part, but with a little surprised reaction. Thankfully, and before Yoongi’s anxieties could settle in, you moved closer to him again, pulling him towards you by the back of his neck.
Yoongi’s lips started moving against yours, hesitantly, but his second guessing went out the non-existing windows of his studio as you followed his lead and moved yours along with his.
Your mouths moved together slowly, his tongue sliding between his lips to lick between yours and you crooned; a small sound that Yoongi didn’t want to focus on, unless he wanted all of his blood to run south.
“Relax your jaw for me.” Yoongi mumbled, not wanting to go too far.
Your hand tensed on his neck as your breath grew a little heavier and you did just as he requested, lips parting wider so his tongue could finally slip into your mouth. Yoongi cradled your face by your jaw, feeling it move as your tongues brushed together.
He could taste your peach flavored lip balm and right then he decided it was his favorite flavor in the world. Your other hand was resting on his chest and Yoongi wondered if you could feel just how fast his heart was beating as you tipped your head sideways so he could deepen the kiss.
It made his own hand slip to the back of your neck, hold turning firm as he kept you in place to lick around your mouth, exploring it as if he wanted to map it out.
You pulled away first, having a hard time breathing, which did wonders for Yoongi’s swelling pride, but he wasn't ready to let you go just yet, acting on instinct and taking your bottom lip between his teeth.
It was worth it as your surprised gasp turned into a moan, making the man smirk. It eventually made him let go of your lip and he watched as your eyes opened; as blown out as his probably were.
“That was… Good, right?” you asked in a breathy tone that Yoongi wanted to hear more of.
“Really good, yeah.” he nodded, so close to your face, hands still holding you close. “If the rest of it is anything like this, you don’t have anything to worry about.”
SEPTEMBER 23RD | 17:41
Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t the biggest one, but his producer salary allowed him to have enough room to fit all of his friends comfortably whenever they decided to use his place as a hang out spot. Is not that he hated to have friends over, if anything Yoongi really enjoyed hosting and cooking for everybody. But the bunch could get rowdy, and Yoongi was left cleaning up the aftermath alone most of the time.
The group-chat had decided that their Saturday plans should include movie night at Yoongi’s place, just because of his soundproof walls and surround sound system that matched his big flat screen TV. Yoongi enjoyed few things in life, not really one to flaunt his status as one of the most sought out Korean producers of present times, but he was proud of his entertainment set up.
A light rain was falling outside, the pitter patter of the drops of the early autumn falls being drawn out by the music video playing on the television as he and his so-called-best-friend organized the living room before the rest of the group arrived.
“I don't know why you're mad at me.” Namjoon was saying as he pulled out the seat cushions of Yoongi’s dark gray couch to make it just a little longer and more comfortable to be laid on for the duration of the movie.
“Really.” Yoongi deadpanned from the kitchen as he rummaged through his food cupboard in search of the kind of microwavable popcorn you liked. “You have nooo idea?”
“I mean, yeah, sure, I might have acted with mischief, but I meant what I said–”
“In what world did you think that telling her to find someone to have sex with was a good idea?” Yoongi finally snapped, letting the popcorn packets drop to the kitchen island with a smack. “What if she went after some rando at a club?”
“I see your point, hyung, but she didn't!” Namjoon tried to apologize by doing a better job of fluffing the cushions. “She went after you!”
“Thank fuck for that.”
Namjoon stepped away from the couch to look at his OCD-friendly set up, making sure the decorative cushions were symmetrically parted from each other and the wool blankets Yoongi always had laying around were folded in perfect squares. Yoongi liked his apartment to be a little on the colder side, and he wasn’t ready to let go of summer just yet, but he also got cold easily.
“Shouldn't you be thankful that you got to kiss the girl of your dreams?” Namjoon turned to his older friend, walking to the kitchen to inspect the snacks that were already littering the dark marble island. “And you'll be doing a lot more than that–”
“I don’t know if I am.” Yoongi confessed with a sigh, which picked Namjoon’s curiosity.
“Why not?”
“She– It’s been a week and nothing else happened.” Yoongi shrugged, as if trying to downplay it and mask his disappointment.
“Haven’t you seen each other again since that day at your studio?” Namjoon leaned over the island to read the label on the honey and mustard chips, but his attentive eyes always went back to him.
“We have. We were never alone, though, because Jimin and Jungkook were there when we had takeout, and then everyone was at Jin's on game night.” Yoongi recalled all of the times he managed to see you during this past week.
“True, but you did look closer during game night.” Namjoon offered, but Yoongi scoffed. “I'm serious! She was always touching your arm, sitting closer to you... hugging you when you scored a point.”
“She's always like that with everyone, I'm not reading into it.” Yoongi refused to see things where there weren’t, because he knew that he would be the one broken hearted at the end of whatever this was.
“Yeah, but she wasn't like that with you.” Namjoon pointed out.
“Because she knows I'm not clingy like the rest of you.” Yoongi rebutted.
“She picked you to be on her team, and you're a bad player!”
“Hey!”
“Am I wrong?” Namjoon arched an eyebrow, dropping the bag of chips back onto the counter, which made Yoongi flinch, thinking about the broken snacks. “Didn’t think so. She usually goes for Kook because that kid is good at everything.”
“Of course, just something else I come second in.”
Yoongi didn’t mean to sound so bitter. He didn’t even intend on speaking out loud in the first place. But he did, and Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” his friend prodded, and Yoongi had no choice but to turn his back and pretend to be searching for something as he replied:
“She said Jungkook is her type.”
“Really? So... gay af, pouts like a baby, dresses like a hobo most of the time?” Namjoon chuckled fondly of the maknae of their weird friend group.
“I think it's more like muscles, piercings and tattoos.” he couldn’t sound more dejected if he tried.
“Is that why you're wearing your hoops again?” Namjoon’s laughter grew louder, pointing at his own pierced ears as he looked at Yoongi’s. “And why are you going to the gym again?”
“No– how do you know I went to the gym?”
“Hobi told me he ran into you. It's cool though. I’m not here to judge.”
Namjoon better not judge him, as he was the one to get Yoongi in this mess in the first place. Yeah, he had unrequited feelings for you, and yeah, he imagined plenty of what if scenarios where he grew the balls to ask you out, or make a move on you. But was this the way his friend had to help him out? By planting ideas in your head and making you offer him something like this?
Yoongi’s heated thought process was interrupted as his phone started to buzz inside his pants pocket and his heart skipped a beat when he read the name on the notifications.
“Oof, that friendzone gotta hurt.” Namjoon said, over Yoongi’s shoulder. His height gave him an advantage that was almost as annoying as his nosy tendencies.
“I swear to fucking god–” Yoongi rasped, shutting his phone and shoving it in his pocket.
“Hey, at least you might get a handy today, huh?” the younger man wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, running away before Yoongi could throw a bag of chips on his head. “And clearly your kiss can't have been that bad, if she's coming to you for help again.”
“Not helping, Joonah.”
Your text did light him up a little bit, and Namjoon wasn’t all that wrong. If you were asking him for help with whatever it was you needed, you didn’t change your mind about this, and you didn’t go to someone else for it; friend or foe.
You didn’t specify just what you needed help with, but Yoongi took a longer shower just in case, scrubbing his body from top to bottom, brushing his teeth just a little harder, blow drying his hair just a little fluffier. Just in case.
You might just ask him questions and not actually want to do anything, but on the off chance that you did, Yoongi wanted to be ready for you.
He wasn’t proud to say that he spent just a little longer inside his decent sized closet deciding on what to wear. Yoongi didn’t want to try too hard, as it would make things too obvious, but he also didn’t think sweats and a white t-shirt were good enough either. But then again, if Jeon Jungkook was your ideal type, maybe he could grab oversized black clothes and call it a night.
“Everyone is already here, hyung.” Namjoon said from the outside of his door, and that’s when Yoongi started to rush.
He ended up picking a pair of jeans with holes on the knees, but that was nicely fitted on his hips, and a soft blue sweater with some green at the end of the sleeves. Hoping he didn’t go too hard on his favorite cologne, Yoongi left his bedroom to find the seven of you already taking over his living room and kitchen space.
Jimin and Taehyung were being disgusting on his couch, giggling as they looked over something on the former’s phone. Jungkook and Seokjin were sitting on the floor, looking up at the TV as they clearly searched for something to watch tonight. Hoseok and Namjoon were in the kitchen, helping you make popcorn.
Microwave popcorn shouldn’t be so hard that it took three people to make it, but you had a routine. You hated it when you took it out too early, meaning half the corn didn’t have time to pop, but it was even worse to leave it in the machine for too long so that it burned. So it took one of you sniffing for any hint of burnt popcorn, another one to pilot the STOP and ON buttons, and a third one listening in for the popping sounds.
And, of course, it took giving you a good look over to almost stop Yoongi’s heart altogether.
Just because you had no business looking so damn pretty all the time.
Today you were wearing one of Yoongi’s favorite styles on you; a lilac suede overall dress that made you look like a cute gardener with a long sleeved shirt under it. Your hair was falling in soft waves, as if you had taken the time to style them before coming, which made Yoongi wonder if you had the same thought process as he had.
“Hyung! There you are!” Hoseok announced his presence for everyone to hear, in that chirpy way of his, and Yoongi’s ears burned a little as the attention of the room landed on him. “The popcorn is almost– wait, wait, stop!”
“Stopping!” you announced, clicking on the button to pause the microwave. “That was a close one, commander.”
Yoongi couldn’t help the little chuckle he let out while watching you and his two best friend’s dramatics, shoulders shaking a little, gums probably out for the others to see.
“Have you gotten from here, Joon?” you turned to the taller man, who nodded while taking the last popcorn packet from the microwave.
You turned towards Yoongi again, who seemed frozen in place until that very moment. You grabbed the three tubs of popcorn that were already ready and took them with you to the couch, nodding your head for Yoongi to follow you. And he was a little socially awkward by nature, but he didn’t think he made a fool out of himself as the others knew he was more on the quiet side most of the time.
“Alright, who let the maknaes choose the movie?” you were saying as you stepped on the soft black rug that took over half of the living room.
“Who are you calling a maknae–” Seokjin threw a glare over his shoulder, one you answered with a scrunch of your nose.
“What’s wrong with our movie taste, noona?” Jungkook asked you, about to pout.
You handed Jungkook and Seokjin a tub of popcorn, and another one to Taehyung and Jimin, keeping the last one for yourself as you sat down in the middle of the couch, having to scoot a little awkwardly as if your overall-dress made it hard for you to move.
“The problem is not your taste in movies, but you never agree on anything.” Yoongi supplied, making you nod in agreement. “Jungkook-ah is going to either pick a superhero movie that we’ve all seen before, or a horror movie, and hyung will be too scared to watch anything with serial killers or ghosts and shit.”
“That’s because I live alone and have an old man's bladder and don’t like having to run from demons on the way back from the bathroom, in the middle of the night, thank you very much!” Seokjin complained in that rushed way of his, making you giggle.
Namjoon and Hoseok joined the rest of you in the living room, with the last tub of popcorn. The packs of chips and other snacks were already on the center table, alongside glasses of soda.
Yes, Yoongi was still standing, but that’s because he always had to be the last one to sit down. Everyone always complained that they didn’t know how to work the lighting system of his smart home, and Yoongi had to be the one to dim the lights low enough so the television was the focus point, but not dark enough that they couldn’t see anything else.
When Yoongi finally made his way to the couch, everyone was already paired up and laying down with their snacks of choice.
Jimin had exchanged his best friend for his boyfriend and was now sitting between Jungkook’s legs, resting against his chest. Tae was still sitting beside them, never minding the third willing. You were right in the middle of the couch, where it was your preferred spot. Hoseok was right next to you, followed by Namjoon and Seokjin.
Before Yoongi could walk to the edge of the couch, to join the hyung, you spoke:
“Hobi, can you scoot over a little?” you asked the man with little taps to his thigh. “Come sit next to me, Yoon.”
The living room was silent as everyone stared at Yoongi once again, just another proof that the only person oblivious to his feelings toward you was, well, you. But at least Yoongi wasn’t completely awkward when it came to you; there was no stumbling, no hesitating, no fumbling around as space was opened on the sofa so he could sit between you and Hoseok.
You handed him the popcorn you were about to share as you unfolded one of the wool blankets and threw it over your legs, more concerned about covering your legs and getting comfortable than actually escaping the cold. While the younger boys bickered over the final movie choice and which sound configuration was best for the settled genre, the three other guys started a heated discussion over something political they heard on the news.
When Yoongi looked at you, you were already looking at him.
“I like your ripped pants.” you said with an easy smile, reaching to slip two fingers inside the wide holes on his knees. “Didn’t know you had things like this.”
“That’s because hyung’s fashion sense only includes either a blazer and white shirt or dress pants and a hoodie.” Jimin teased from the other side.
“I’m sorry I’m not into Chelsea boots and skinny jeans.” Yoongi scoffed, which wasn’t really a jab at Jimin’s fashion sense. Even Yoongi could admit the blonde man knew how to dress better than most.
“You’re forgiven.” Jimin was grinning, which was noticeable even in the dimmed atmosphere of the room.
Your fingers were still tracing random patterns on his knee as you said: “Don’t listen to Jiminie, I like your style.”
“Thanks. I like yours too.” he said, which somehow made you giggle.
“You don’t think I look like a little girl?” you asked in what must have been a moment of self doubt.
“Nah, just cute.”
You smiled appreciatively at him, throwing half of the blanket over Yoongi’s legs so you could share. He handed you the tub with popcorn and the movie finally started; the thumping of the bass from the intro not the only thing making his heart accelerate.
The group ended up deciding on a new movie with a few known actors, like IU –the only woman Jungkook would ever turn straight for–, no demons to scare Seokjin, and no blood to make Taehyung queasy.
The drama wasn’t Yoongi’s particular cup of tea, but he wouldn’t be paying attention to it anyways. Not when you felt so warm sitting so close to him, smelling so good. And not when his brain was filled with the possibilities of what was coming next, after everyone had left.
You and Yoongi shared the popcorn, hands brushing every now and then as if you were in a teen movie. You didn’t seem to notice it, however, engrossed in the movie. You had tears in your eyes during some of the more emotionally heavy scenes, but held them in pretty well.
While you could.
Thirty minutes into the movie and the popcorn was over, the tub resting somewhere on the floor, and you were aggressively wiping tears from your eyes with your sleeves.
“Just let her keep her baby.” you said under your breath, moving your arm under Yoongi’s so you could hug it like a safety blanket, cheek pressed hard against his shoulder. “They will be okay, right?”
“Mhm, yeah. Everything is going to be fine.”
Yoongi had no way of knowing that, especially when it came to this kind of movie. But he’d be damned if he didn’t try to soothe you. You nodded softly in response, snuggling into his arm a little harder, pressing your body to his completely. You were exactly like this, Yoongi told himself. You’d be clinging to whoever was sitting next to you, and it just so happened to be him.
That was okay, he told himself as he quietly sniffed your hair, because, at least right now, it was him you were clinging to.
SEPTEMBER 23RD | 22:15
It wasn’t surprising the way Yoongi was a lot more relaxed by the end of the movie, but it was a little shameful that he grew more and more at ease as his friends started to take their leave. Yoongi dealt better with smaller groups of people at a time, even if he loved every one of his friends; yes, even Jungkook and all his piercings and tattoos. It wasn’t the maknae’s fault that you were apparently so attracted to him when you first met.
Hell, even Yoongi caught himself gawking at Jungkook whenever he put a little more effort into looking good; like when he combed his hair off his forehead, or wore the black jeans that may or may not belong to Jimin.
“You guys can leave it, I’ll do it.” Yoongi insisted as you and Hoseok continued to clean up the living room.
“It’s alright, hyung, I don’t mind.” Hoseok told him as he knelt on the rug to pick up stray pieces of popcorn and chips that eventually made it to the floor. “We’ll just finish it up and go. I’ll drive you home when we’re done.”
“Me?” you blinked, as Hoseok clearly meant you, eyes moving to Yoongi as you silently asked for help. “Thank’s, but I’m not going home yet.”
“Oh.” Hoseok nodded. Then stopped. His eyes widened for a fraction of a second and his neck almost snapped with how fast he turned to Yoongi’s direction, sending him a sly grin. “Ohh.”
Yoongi was shaking his head at Hoseok, with wide eyes and behind your back, telling his friend to cut it out as you picked up the empty boxes of pizza. Hobi winked in slow motion and sent Yoongi a thumbs up, which made him sigh.
The job of tying it up the living room and kitchen was a lot easier now that he had more help, and fifteen minutes later, the dishes were washed, the couch was clear of any mess, and Yoongi was walking Hoseok out of his apartment.
“So.” Hoseok spoke quietly, which Yoongi appreciated, but it still made him cringe a little on the inside as his friend teased: “You two, huh?”
“It’s not what you’re thinking.” Yoongi stated, holding the front door open while the younger man put his shoes on.
“You don’t know what I’m thinking.” Hoseok squinted his eyes, but his knowing smile was enough to make Yoongi’s ears burn.
“I can assure you.” Yoongi chuckled, as there was no way his friend would ever be able to guess why you were staying longer tonight. “Night, Hobah.”
Hoseok waited as the elevator dinged and walked in after the automatic doors opened for him, singing: “Goodnight, hyung. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”
And, just like that, he was gone and Yoongi could breathe a little easier. And, just like that, you were alone together after what felt like ages.
Yoongi found you sitting on the couch, looking a little tired, eyes still a little red from when you cried at the end of the movie. He mustn’t look so hot either, social battery on its lowest setting. At least he never felt like he needed to try hard with you, surprisingly. There was never a need to be entertaining, to talk more than he wanted to, to constantly search for something to do.
He could just sit next to you and do nothing, and it didn’t feel awkward, you were never bothered by his quieter moments. You also had a way of bringing out his other sides, too; the joker, the one with the weird noises and funky dances, and also the deep one that could talk about music for hours and had random facts to spill.
“Movie nights are fun, but you always look a little dead after.” you giggled, and it wasn’t even an insult. Yoongi felt a little dead as he sat down next to you, relaxing into his couch cushion.
“I know I’m not that much older than them, but sometimes I feel like I can't keep up.” he chuckled with closed eyes, basking on the quietude that was only ever broken by your giggles.
“Okay, grandpa. Do you want me to leave?” you offered, which made Yoongi open his eyes and look at you.
By now, the mood lights in the living room had been put into a brighter setting than during the movie, but not uncomfortably so. Yoongi could still see the blush on your cheeks, the hesitation in your eyes and the way your fingers fiddled with each other.
Yoongi didn’t want you to leave, however. No matter how tired or drained he felt, this was the first time he had a chance to be alone with you all week. And when the last memory he had of a moment like this came along with the feeling of your lips on him, he really wanted you to stay.
“Not really.” he replied, and maybe it was wishful thinking, but he thought he saw you breathe a little easier. “You, uh, needed help, right?”
“Yeah, but I can just come back another time, I don't mind.” you assured him, always one to worry about his boundaries and need for the occasional alone time. It warmed his heart, in more ways than one.
“I promise I'm fine, doll. You said something about your book?” Yoongi wasn’t trying to push, in case you changed your mind, but your eager nod as he mentioned it made him sit up a little straighter on the sofa.
“Okay, so, I was reading chapter eleven again and I really agreed with Joon's notes on it.” you said as you turned a little more to the side, so you were facing him.
“Which were?”
“It wasn't realistic, the, uh, sexy scene.” you explained with a nibble on your bottom lip, the blush was dusted on your cheeks again. “Just because there are things that I don't exactly know how they happen.”
“Okay. You wanna ask me about it?”
“Sure. But I was hoping that showing me might work better?” there it was, the hesitation again. Your words were already causing something to stir in Yoongi’s lower belly, but he kept his cool. “Maybe. If you're okay with that.”
“You need to tell me what it is first, doll, or I can't tell you that.” he chuckled, hoping it would help you relax a little more around him.
Not that Yoongi wasn’t having a little moment of nervous anxiety himself, this was you, he didn’t think he’d ever be completely cool about any of this. But he wanted to help you, and he wanted to be good for you. Even if the only chance he ever got to do that was purely platonic.
“Right, right, just... I feel kinda bad now that we're here.” you said with a frown, reaching out on instinct to thread your pinky through his.
“Did you change your mind? Because that’s okay, too, we can just forget about it.” Yoongi had to swallow a lump in his throat, but he meant every word.
“No, not at all... I just feel like I'm using you in a way.” you said, eyes downcast as you looked at your linked fingers. You let out a small laugh, but it was a bitter one. “This is ridiculous, right? I'm sitting here, about to ask you to show me how you get hard. And what do you get in return?”
Yoongi’s breath intake was a little harsh as he held back a groan, fingers flexing of their own accord. In what should be a joke to lighten the mood, but that immediately made him fluster, he said: “An orgasm, maybe?”
“Be serious.” you rolled your pretty eyes, but an even prettier smile broke on your face.
“I am! Unless you want to see how it goes down naturally as well?” Yoongi really hoped you said no.
“No, that's not part of it. There's something else I want, but–”
“Oh?”
“–we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”
The possibilities were making Yoongi’s mind go a little hazy, butterflies that felt more like bats in the cave of his stomach, and his dick was already twitching in his pants. So much so that he feared he might get hard before you even had the chance to actually see it happen.
“Kay. How do you wanna do this?”
“Uh, I really didn't think this far.” you admitted sheepishly.
“Do you wanna help?” Yoongi asked, wondering if you wanted him to pull it out and touch himself into full hardness, or if you wanted in on it. “I can guide you.”
“That might be better, yes.” you nodded, too cute for what was about to happen, and scooted even closer to him so your knees were pressed against his thigh.
Was he really about to do this? Was Yoongi actually going to drop his pants, show you his cock, and let you study him like a guinea pig? God, don’t let this get awkward, he was reasoning to whoever was out there listening. He didn’t want to scare you with it either, as it wouldn’t be good for your kinky-field-search, and even worse for his own pride, so he asked:
“You don't want to start the chapter with the guy just pulling it out, right?” bringing it back to your book might be easier to set the scene for the two of you, too. “You wanna tease the reader as much as you wanna tease your character.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
“You might wanna start with some light making out?” he offered, words taking a turn and missing his brain filter altogether.
Your eyes widened just a little, instantly dropping to his lips. “Should we?”
“We don't have to. I'm just telling you what might work well on a scene.” he lied.
“What if I want to?”
Yoongi thought he might be dreaming again as you moved first, leaning closer to him to press your lips together just once, just a peck. Nervous eyes stared up at him as you pulled back but didn’t go all too far.
“Is this okay?” you asked in a whisper.
“Mm. Shouldn't I be asking that?” Yoongi spoke as quietly as you, his hand reaching out to push your hair behind your ear.
“I'm not sure.” you looked at his lips again, with a small nervous laugh as your hand rested on his thigh.
“I’m okay with it.” he told you, holding back from lunging for your lips again.
“Me too. Definitely.”
That was all Yoongi needed to slip his hand to the back of your neck and drag you into another kiss. This time it was longer, a little harder than the soft peck. He moved his mouth first and you followed suit, slightly parting your lips for his tongue to slip into yours. Your little breathy sounds, paired with the tightening of your hand on his thigh, were making Yoongi a little dizzy.
You were melting into his kiss, following every lick and every flick of his tongue, allowing him to dictate the pace, deepen the kiss when he wanted. It wasn’t missed on Yoongi how much trust you actually put on him to have these experiences with, and he would make sure you never regretted it.
Even if nothing ever came of this, he wouldn’t burden you with his broken heart, but continue to support you and be there for you regardless.
As your hand started moving on his thigh, hiking up, Yoongi groaned against your lips and you swallowed the noise, replying to it with a tiny moan. Yoongi took your bottom lip into his mouth and sucked on it gently, which made your hand squeeze at his thigh and he parted his legs for you in an invitation.
You didn’t move it to where Yoongi wanted and when he let go of your lip and studied your face, he understood why. He could see how reluctant and shy you looked, eyes pleading with him to help you just a little more.
“It’s okay.” he assured you, voice coming out raspy. “Give me your hand.”
You put your palm in his and when Yoongi gently tugged it closer to his ever growing bulge, there was no pulling back, no halting. Just the fear of not knowing what to do. You let out a little gasp as Yoongi placed your hand over the outline of his cock, molding your fingers around it so you could feel all of him.
“Oh my god.” you breathed out with a little laugh.
“Too much?” he checked, loosening the hold on your hand in case you wished to pull back.
But now that you were let go of, you didn’t retreat, but started touching him, over his pants, at your own accord. You squeezed a little, testing the pressure, tracing the length, and Yoongi’s head fell against the back of the couch, eyes hooded and stuck on you, reading your every reaction.
Small sighs and groans left his lips each time you did something he really liked, which made you ask:
“Does it feel nice?” your whole hand was palming at his crotch and he had to suppress the need to push his hips into your hand, only managing to nod. “You look so good like this.”
The praise was too much, and he didn’t want to cum inside his pants, just from this, so he chose to stare into the ceiling instead. It did little to quell his worries of not lasting long as you took it as an invitation to kiss his neck. Your lips felt as soft as they did against his and the way you let your tongue lick at his heated skin made him bite back a moan.
“Can I see you?” you asked in a whiny tone, delivered to his ear, making his cock jump. He wondered if you could feel it.
“Yeah.” Yoongi nodded and you moved your hand back to his thigh, leaving his neck with one last kiss under his jaw. It was his turn to become a little embarrassed as he said: “Uh, you should know, dicks are pretty different from one another, so.”
“I know, I’ve seen dicks before.” you giggled. “I’ve watched porn, Yoon.”
Right.
Yoongi cursed at himself, because of course you knew what a dick was supposed to look like. You might be inexperienced when it came to having practice, but you weren’t sheltered, you weren’t naive, and you clearly weren’t innocent; not with the type of stuff you wrote about. At least your giggle calmed him down a little, and his own embarrassment made his impending release recede.
He pushed his sleeves all the way up to his elbows and pulled the hem of the sweater from the inside of his pants, revealing a small strip of skin of his lower stomach for you. Yoongi didn’t know what your little gasp meant, but he chose to believe it was positive. You adjusted yourself on the couch as his fingers reached his pants’ button and fly, squeezing your thighs together as he pulled them down.
Not trying to drag this out or make a mystery of it, Yoongi lifted his hips to push his pants and underwear to the middle of his thighs; a quick pull off of a bandaid, so to speak. His cock jumped free, resting against his lower belly. Hard, leaking pre-cum, the tip a familiar shade of darker pink.
He really regretted not masturbating in the shower before everyone arrived, because at least the edge would be off and Yoongi wouldn’t need to fear getting off the moment you touched him for the first time.
You didn’t do much at first, and Yoongi was almost afraid to look at you and find disappointment in your eyes. Your eyes were a little glossy as your tongue poked between your pouty lips. When you noticed his gaze was on you, the spell broke and you reacted.
“You– Uhm. That’s a big one, right?” you asked with a flushed face and neck. “I know I said I’ve seen them, and I know what it’s supposed to be like, but. I didn’t expect it to be so long? And fat.”
Your choice of words made Yoongi laugh, an actual belly laugh, shaking shoulders and everything. It made your eyes widen as you blinked cutely, clearly embarrassed.
“Thanks, doll.” he grinned as his laughter subsided. “And yeah, I’m a little above average.”
“A little?” your eyebrow arched in suspicion as your eyes followed the movement of his hand as he held his cock, squeezing a little to alleviate some of the ache. “Since when are you modest?”
“Alright, I have a big dick.” he agreed with a shrug as he took a leap of faith and kissed your cheek with a hot smack.
“That’s more like the Yoongi I know and love.” you giggled, clearly oblivious to the way your words affected him.
Yoongi knew you meant in a friendly kind of love, he felt the same way towards you. But his feelings went a little beyond that, which caused his heart to clench and expand in his chest as he basked in your love, however innocent and platonic it was.
“Can I touch you?” you asked and Yoongi really wanted to say you could do anything at all to him.
“Go ahead.”
This is the part Yoongi thought would be weird. In his mind, maybe he pictured you poking him in the dick, giggling like a schoolgirl, maybe frowning or looking a little disgusted. God knows that he didn’t really know what to do when he saw a pussy for the first time.
But you were gentle with the way your fingertips touched him, following the vein on the underside of it, using your thumb to spread the leaking pre-cum around his velvety tip. You were paying attention, yes, and studying him. But it didn’t make him feel under a microscope. If anything, it made Yoongi feel appreciated.
Your small hand wrapped around his cock and Yoongi sighed, his free hand was resting next to you on the sofa and he had to hold back the urge of touching you. Your thigh was so close to his hand that he could feel the warmth emanating from you, but you hadn’t talked about it yet and he feared you might not like that.
For now he had to appreciate the feeling of your hand on him, which was more than he ever thought he’d get.
When you let go of him, Yoongi feared that might be it, all you needed from him tonight, that you’d tell him you gathered all the information you needed for the chapter. He missed your touch already and having to touch himself after you left would not only be sad, but a little pathetic.
You were full of surprises, however, as you brought your hand to your lips and sucked on your tongue, letting your spit fall on your palm. You did know what you were doing after all, as he didn’t need to instruct you when your hand got back to his cock and you spread your spit all over him.
There were things you were trying, Yoongi noticed as he let go of his shaft in order to allow you to take over. The more you touched him, the more confident you grew, tugging him a little harder, jerking him a little faster. When you fisted at his tip, your small hand wrapping around it and squeezing as your wrist flicked, Yoongi’s moan was too loud.
“Oh, you like that.” it wasn’t a question, but an affirmation as you repeated it one more time before dropping your hand in a tight ‘o’ all the way down to his base.
“Yeah, it’s uhm–sensitive.”
Yoongi was breathing heavily as you tugged and stroked his cock. You were a little messy, a bit awkward at times, not really following a steady rhythm, but Yoongi found out that he liked that.
“I can feel you pulsing.” you commented in awe, letting out small whines that were half the cause for that very throbbing you were feeling against your palm. “Does that mean you’re close?”
“Not always.” he shook his head, not sure if he rather look at his cock disappearing and poking out from your fist, or your pretty face as you were obviously getting hot and bothered by this. “But I am.”
That last information seemed to light a whole new fire within you, making your movements a little more firm and determined. You teased his slit with your thumb as the rest of your hand worked on the underside of his head, making him let out raspy moans, sweat starting to cling at his skin.
It took him completely by surprise as your free hand dipped into his hair and you stared at his lips until Yoongi took the hint and leaned in the rest of the way to capture your lips with his. He couldn’t really kiss you properly, not in the way that he wanted to, and it basically meant that he was moaning against your lips and licking around your mouth more than actually kissing, but it was tearing whines from you either way, and your movements never stopped.
“Gonna cum, baby–”
The term of endearment was a slip, one that Yoongi would justify by being in the throes of the moment if you ever asked him about it, and not because he dreamed about calling you baby for years now. You didn’t complain, however, as you flicked your wrist in an upstroke, in that way you already knew he liked, and you squeezed at his hair just as he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Yoongi felt his lower stomach tense, his cock throb as it felt impossibly hard and borderline painful. He let go of what was holding him back and allowed himself to enjoy the pleasure the girl of his dreams was giving him; thick ribbons of white shooting out of his tip as he groaned what sounded a lot like your name.
You pulled away from his lips to look as the last strings leaked out, movements slowing down, but not completely stopping.
“That was beautiful.” you said in that breathy tone that let Yoongi know you were affected. “You’re so beautiful, Yoongi.”
“Stop that.” he chuckled, cheeks flustered as he watched you milk his cock of the last drops. “I’m the one who had an orgasm, you’re not supposed to be the delirious one.”
“I mean it.” you assured him, not an ounce of doubt in your words. “You’re incredible.”
"You're the one who did all the work, doll."
You giggled softly because you agreed, letting his softening cock go as you rested it against his stomach. Clearly you didn't know what to do next, and Yoongi intended on getting up to clean himself up, grab some tissues to clean your hand, he just needed a couple of minutes to catch his breath.
Yoongi watched as you brought your dirty hand to your face to sniff his release and then swipe your tongue, licking at his cum. It made him groan and intake a breath, wanting to laugh at your childish curiosity. Your nose scrunched a little, obviously surprised, but you weren't gaging, which was a good thing.
"That's stronger than I thought." was your conclusion. "Not horrible, though."
Yoongi wanted to tell you that the taste and the way cum looked changed a little, depending on how many times and how often people with dicks had sex or masturbated, but that would include telling you that his sex life was practically nonexistent and even his solo time was cut short by his long studio hours.
"Can I wash my hands on your sink?" you asked already up from the couch and walking a little funny as you tried to play it cool.
"Sure."
Yoongi could only imagine why you were walking like that, wondering if your panties were so wet with your arousal that you were a little uncomfortable. Of course that would mean that you actually enjoyed yourself while jerking him off, that it wasn't purely for your research.
And then again, didn't he already know that? He saw the way you looked at him, he heard your little mewls and moans and you didn't have to kiss him like that but you still did.
When you got back to the couch, your hand was clean and you were offering him a paper towel so he could clean himself too, realizing then that he was just sitting there, pants still around his thighs and cock out. He felt a little silly, but took the paper and wiped himself as best as he could before tucking himself back into his underwear and buttoning his pants in place.
"I had fun tonight." you told him, in what should be a way of saying goodbye, but it didn't match the way you settled on his couch once more, folding your legs under you
"Yeah? You seemed to enjoy the movie." Yoongi turned toward you after bunching the paper towel in a sticky ball and throwing it at his center table.
"I mean with you." you half whispered, tapping your bottom lip as an irrational movement, which inevitably dragged Yoongi’s eyes to them. "I'm glad I came to you with this."
"So you haven't changed your mind?"
You shook your head, lighting up with a smile as you said: "I'm excited to try more."
"Like what?" Yoongi had suggestions of his own, but this was about you so he didn't want to project his own wishes and wants on you.
And, thankfully, you were pretty good at telling him what you wanted, despite how shy you got while at it.
"Maybe you could do something to me next time?" you offered, Yoongi nodded. "Like… whatever you feel like."
"Want me to eat you out?"
"Are you offering or asking me?" you replied, eyes a little wide, breath a little dragged.
"Same thing, doll."
"Okay."
You agreed softly and it was all Yoongi needed to pull his legs up and crawl to you. Your eyes only grew as you watched him approach, hands resting on his chest as he began laying you down on his couch, gazes stuck to each other.
“Y–you mean n–now?” you stuttered and even that sounded cute to Yoongi.
“Is that okay?” he paused, nose an inch away from yours.
“Yeah.” you sighed, letting your back fall against the couch, head resting on the arm of the sofa.
“Stop me anytime you want.” Yoongi told you, leaning forward to peck your lips. “Or tell me to keep going when you like something.”
“I’m convinced I’ll like everything coming from you.” you admitted with a shy chuckle, hands on each side of Yoongi’s neck as you kept him there to kiss his lips a little longer.
“I sure hope so.” his laugh was easy, as was everything when it came to you. No matter how complicated his feelings were.
Yoongi dragged his lips against your skin, from your jaw and down to your throat. Your legs parted for him to fit in between them and as your hands got lost in his long hair, making him grunt appreciatively each time you pulled, it felt like an invitation for him to touch you, to feel you. He trusted that you would stop him if you didn’t want any of it, and you never did.
This didn’t feel like an agreement, didn’t feel like he was doing you a favor by showing you how things worked, making you feel things for the sake of gathering experience for your book. So it was easy to forget that’s all it was, and even easier to feel like you were lovers.
Yoongi’s hands were roaming your body, touching your sides until he reached your thigh. His mouth was opening and closing against your neck, tongue licking at your skin as you squirmed under him, letting out the prettiest moans. More than anything, he wanted to bite you, leave a pretty bruise on your skin, mark you as his.
But you weren’t. So he couldn’t.
“Yoon, please.” you pleaded, so sweetly that it made his cock stir inside his pants.
Yoongi could never deny you, he wasn’t about to start now. Pulling back from you to kneel between your legs, he was slow with the way he raised the skirt of your overalls, just enough to let him see your bottom half, the softness of your lower stomach and your cute belly button. He didn't want to seem too greedy and raise it up too much.
Even though he was.
You were wearing black panties, a little sheer, delicate fabric, with tiny lace frills around the elastic band and an even tinier bow at the front. It wasn’t the kind of underwear one wore if no one was about to see them. It made him wonder if you picked those for him.
Did you wear them just in case? Did you worry about him liking it?
The way you were staring at him expectantly let him know that you did.
“I like these.” he told you and you smiled with pink cheeks. “Were you thinking of me when you chose to wear them?”
“I bought them for you.” you admitted with a squirm, threatening to close your legs, but his body was on the way. “I didn’t really have any reasons to own lingerie before.”
Does the top match? He wanted to ask, but refrained from it. All in due time.
Yoongi touched your knees, thighs, feeling your smooth skin under his fingertips, all the way up your hips to hook his fingers on the elastic bands. “Is it okay if I take them off?”
“Uh–” you hesitated, which made Yoongi worry. He started to retrieve his hands when you held onto his wrists to keep them there. “Yeah, it’s fine, just– What if you think I look weird?”
“You could never look weird, doll.” he marveled.
You huffed in a ‘how would you know’ way and chided: “I hope you know you’ll be the first to see me like this.” as if he didn’t know. As if he wasn’t fucking proud of that. “Well, you and the brazilian lady from the waxing place yesterday, but I don’t think she counts.”
“I can live with that.”
He could also live here. With you under him. On his couch. Sharing his space. Your laughs filling the silence of his home, your touches filling the empty spots of his heart.
When you let go of his wrists and lifted your hips, Yoongi pulled your underwear down your legs, trying not to stare, but unable to look away as you were revealed for him. You were perfect, but he knew you would be. Soft lips, looking a little puffy as your arousal clinged to you, making you all shiny and delicious.
You spread your legs a little wider, opening yourself to him, inviting him in. You were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life, there was no question about it. Yoongi had never been rendered speechless like this before, hands resting on your legs as he just… Breathed.
Hard.
Heavy.
You reached out for his wrist, squeezing it, thumb caressing his skin in a way that was soothing, as if he was the one that needed reassurance. It was enough to make him snap out of whatever trance he was under and lean down to lay on the couch, between your legs, and start to kiss the inside of your thigh.
“Oh, fuck.”
He had never heard you curse like that before, and it made him greedy to hear more of that. Yoongi trailed kisses on your skin, moving closer and closer to your pussy until he reached it. Yoongi didn’t want to overwhelm you, but he couldn’t really go slow, not when he was dying to taste you.
His tongue slipped out of his mouth and dipped between your folds, licking a stripe all the way up. Your moan was worth it, your taste was better than he could have expected.
“How’s that?” Yoongi checked in with you, peppering kisses all over your lips before moving his tongue up and down your soaking cunt.
“That–shit, I– my god, Yoongi!”
“That good, huh?” he chuckled close to your pussy so you would feel the vibrations and it made you arch your back.
“Can you just– keep going?”
Yoongi looked at you from between your legs, noticing the lip worried between your teeth, your half lidded gaze, the hands resting on your lower stomach as you squeezed the suede fabric of your dress.
His hands slipped under your thighs and he pulled you down with strong arms, making you squeal and cry out as his mouth latched onto your pussy and he ate you like a man starved. Yoongi was good at it, if he said so himself, and he was about to prove it to you.
His tongue was quick and purposeful as he explored your pussy, teasing your hole with little circles, only to drag all the way up to your clit. He was drinking from you, swallowing hard, using his lips and tongue to make you feel good. You weren’t able to stay quiet, it seemed, hips starting to rock at their own accord.
“You taste so fucking good.” he told you, and it was true.
“You feel really good, too.” you admitted with a long, dragged moan.
His lips formed a pout around your clit and Yoongi held it there, sucking softly with rhythmic movements of his tongue around it. That’s when your hand grabbed onto his hair and you held on for dear life, keeping him there. Not that he would dare move as your moans and the clenching of your cunt under him were telling him you were close.
It was more than a little exciting, to know he was the first to taste you, the first to make you unravel like this, the first person to make you cum. In a way, even if nothing serious came out of this, Yoongi would still forever be your first. He hoped you’d always remember him like this, with his face shoved between your legs. A more selfish part of him hoped no one would ever be this good to you, no one would make you moan and cry so loud that the neighbors might hear.
Yoongi could worry about those implications later, for now he would focus on making you cum on his tongue.
“Oh fuck, I’m so close, please don’t stop, please–”
Your pleas and moans were desperate, making Yoongi almost start to hump his own couch just to find relief for his bulge that was already swollen and begging for attention. The sting on his scalp was painful, but he loved it, especially because it meant you were enjoying yourself.
Yoongi’s sole focus was on your clit, drawing quick circles with the flat of his tongue, until a cry of his name made his ears buzz and his eyes roll to the back of his head as you started trembling underneath him, your orgasm washing over you. Your thighs closed around his head, keeping him there, and he continued to lick you through your climax, a little gentler this time, so that you could enjoy that feeling for as long as possible.
Only when your hand dropped from his hair and your legs fell open, did he stop.
You were both breathless when Yoongi pulled away to lay down next to you. He was so drunk on you and your taste on his lips that he didn’t let his overthinking get the best of him. Yoongi simply pulled you into his chest, and you willingly clung to him, laying on your side, as you tried to regulate your breathing.
“If that’s how it always feels, I’m really fucking mad at myself for not doing this before.” you giggled, but it was muffled by his chest.
“That’s how it always feels with me.” Yoongi pointed out, letting himself brag. “Unfortunately, most guys out there don’t know where anything is.”
“Oh.” you looked up at him with somewhat wet eyes and red bitten lips. “Well. I might just keep coming back to you, then.”
“That’s fine with me, doll.”
OCTOBER 11TH | 16:05
If one wanted to find Min Yoongi, chances were, he’d be in his studio. His workspace, located in a tall building in Yeongsan, was where he spent most of his days, including weekends. The studio, affectionately named Genius Lab, had everything Yoongi needed; his desk filled with the best equipment for recording and producing, a couch where he could nap whenever he was too tired to function properly, a mini fridge where he kept a few drinks and quick snacks, and dark decor and lighting that made the space entertaining and homey enough.
On a good day, he’d be in the zone. So focused on whatever he was working on that day that the world could be falling to pieces outside of his soundproof walls, there could be a zombie outbreak, and Yoongi wouldn’t even notice it.
But then there were days like today.
Yoongi had been going over the same verse for what felt like the thousandth time and he simply did not like how it sounded, his metaphors weren’t good enough, the flow was weak. And the producer, lyricist and rapper wasn’t the kind to just easily move on to the next project, come back to this later with a clearer mind. No, Yoongi would obsess over something and only actually move forward once he fixed what needed fixing.
His back was killing him from being hunched over his keyboard for the last however many minutes, his neck felt stiff, and he was stressed. Grabbing for his phone on his desk, Yoongi noticed two things.
Firstly, it was the middle of the afternoon already, when he thought it was just after lunch, so maybe he was stuck on this one song for longer than he hoped.
And, secondly, Yoongi missed you.
Now, he didn’t have it that bad for you that simply looking at the time reminded him of you, no. But your face was the image that greeted him when he awoke his sleeping phone, staring back at him, right on his screen background. Again, he was that obsessed to have made you his wallpaper, you had done it yourself, just five days ago, in what he was sure was supposed to be a joke, a lesson to not leave his phone unattended next to you.
Yoongi just didn’t have the time to change it back to the picture of his family dog just yet.
Things between the two of you had been going steady for the past few weeks now, almost a whole month ever since you walked into this very room and asked him to help you learn things for your book. You saw each other a few times every week, either with your friends or just you and him, but something always happened.
Either hidden kisses and stolen moments behind the boys’ backs, or you’d go to his apartment over the weekend and stay the night. Your sessions usually involved a lot of making out, some heavy groping, handjobs, fingering or he’d eat you out. You always had lots of questions for him, which he did his best to answer with examples and practicing time.
Yoongi wondered if you were as affected by it as he was. Sometimes he asked himself if your yearning eyes, long lasting touches and sweet kisses even after you were done meant something to you as much as they meant to him. He didn’t think you were a cruel person to pretend not to notice how infatuated he was with you, but there were only so many times one could call another person baby or fall asleep holding each other, before one starts to wonder if there’s something more there.
As Yoongi’s phone turned dark again, he wondered if you were busy. You lived fairly close to his work, everyone in the building pretty much already knew you, so he wouldn’t get in trouble if you came over. He could use a distraction, maybe you could have something to drink at the coffee shop downstairs, it’s been a while since you met there for an afternoon snack.
To say that escalated would be an understatement. Yoongi didn’t message you with those intentions in mind, but after reading the text conversation again, he could understand how he sounded. The man was slightly awkward when it came to texting, much preferring calls or talking in person. You were always full of emojis and funny ways of communicating, which he thought was cute.
But then again, Yoongi thought everything you did was cute.
And he had exactly twenty minutes to get his shit together and stop acting like such a simp, as that was the time that it took for you to walk from your apartment to his studio. A little more than that if you were in your pajamas and had to change before leaving the house.
At the knock on his door, Yoongi got up to unlock his studio and let you in, but before he could even say hello, you were throwing your arms around his neck and pressing your lips against his. Just a smack of your lips, but still enough to surprise Yoongi.
“Hi.” you whispered with a little smile. You had never greeted him like this before, especially not in the middle of the hallway, where anyone could see.
“Hey–” Yoongi finally snapped out of it as you slipped your shoes off and walked into the room, going straight to the couch. “I swear this isn’t a booty call.”
He didn’t really know why he felt the need to reiterate his pure intentions, lest you think that’s the only reason he had to want you over.
“I know, I was just messing with you.” you giggled as you folded your legs under yourself and Yoongi took a breath of relief. “I just guessed you either wanted to show me something new or a distraction from your genius creations.”
Yoongi scoffed lightly as he walked back to his chair, dropping down onto it with a squeak. “Got nothing genius to share today, I’m afraid.”
“New project giving you a hard time?” you asked, leaning forward and tilting your head as you watched him.
“You could say that.” Yoongi nodded, bringing a thumb to his mouth to bite and pull at the little piece of skin that had been bothering him for the past hour.
“Is it for the important meeting you have next week?” you asked as you pulled his hand away from his mouth and brought it to your own lips to kiss at the corner of his finger as you noticed how red it looked.
And this shit right here, this is exactly what he meant. There’s no way you didn’t feel something for him, when you did things like these, right? Wishful thinking or not, it made Yoongi’s heart swoon and his cheeks feel hot.
“Not at all, so I guess I have two reasons to be worried.” his laugh was void of amusement and filled with self-deprecation.
“Oh, no.” you scrunched your nose, only now letting go of his hand. “Honestly, Yoon, you have no reason to worry at all. Not about the meeting, not about whatever project is being annoying. You’re great. You’re more than great, you’re the best producer I know.”
“Do you know many producers?” Yoongi challenged you with a cocked eyebrow, and this time his laugh was a little more real.
“At least two.” you pointed out in a matter of factly way. “And don’t tell Hobi, but you’re my favorite one.”
“How can I be sure you don’t tell him the same thing?”
“I guess you’ll never know.” you grinned, white teeth behind a dark lipstick smile. Now that autumn was in full swing, your wardrobe and seasonal makeup were changing, it seemed. “Is that for Agust D or someone else?”
You were nodding at his computer screen behind him, which was still opened in the latest mixing program he used to add his vocals to the melody he already had.
“That’s mine, yeah.”
“What’s the problem with it?” you got up from the couch, walking to the desk and leaning over it with your hands flat on the wood top. Yoongi turned his chair to face you, smiling at the lines on your forehead as you tried to figure out what all of the lines, splits and soundwaves meant.
“Not sure I like it.” he told you with a long, dragged out sigh.
“Can I hear what you have so far?” you asked as you turned to him instead of the monitor.
And, the thing was, Yoongi never let anybody hear his songs before he was 100% happy with it. Not Hoseok. Not Pdogg. Not even Bang PD and that was his boss. But you were looking at him so expectantly, and you were always so excited to be one of the firsts to hear his music that he couldn’t say no to you. Ever.
Yoongi nodded and your sweet smile was already enough to calm his nerves and ill intended feelings towards his music.
Yoongi rolled his chair a little closer to you, so he could reach for his mouse and move the song back to the start so he could play it for you, but you took it as an invitation to sit on his lap. Not that he wouldn’t actually invite you if he thought it was an option. Which he didn’t. But he was glad that it was.
The producer was also glad for the way that you so naturally fit there, sitting on his leg, one arm naturally circling his shoulders as his wrapped around your waist to make sure you were balanced.
“What is it called?” you were asking, looking at him from so close that he could see the little freckle on your eye.
“People.”
Yoongi pressed the right button with the mouse and adjusted the volume of the song so you could hear everything as one and not be deafened by the bass that he was working on previously. The song sounded a little different from what he was used to putting out, like ‘Agust D’, ‘Give it to me’ or ‘The last’, which was probably the reason he was feeling so weird about it in the first place.
It’s not that he didn’t like the song itself, but he was worried that it was not what people expected of him.
You were nodding your head as you both listened to it playing, trying to school your features in an attempt to not let it show how you felt about it. But when it got to the chorus, you couldn’t hold back the smile that was pushed onto your lips as you heard him sing.
Yoongi avoided looking at you after that, as his own smile was difficult to contain.
When the song came to an end, you turned to him with the biggest grin, and Yoongi’s cheeks were puffed as she smiled at your reactions; internally rolling his eyes at himself and his inability of keeping a straight face when it came to you and his music.
“So, what’s wrong with it?” you asked as the hand that was around his shoulders touched the back of his neck, nails scratching at his nape.
“I–” Yoongi sighed, almost purred, relaxing into your touch, forehead resting on your cheek as he couldn’t help himself. “Don’t remember.”
“That sounds more like it.” you giggled, wrapping the other arm around him as he did the same to your middle. “All you needed was to get out of your head a little, huh?”
“I guess.”
And you. He definitely needed you. To wordlessly assure him his song was good, to enjoy listening to it, making him laugh and breathe and stop overthinking. You barely did anything at all and yet it felt like so much.
“Glad I could help.” you were smiling. Yoongi could feel it even if he couldn’t see it.
“You always do.”
“I can… You know?” you started softly, almost hesitantly, and Yoongi pulled back enough to look at you. Explaining, you said: “Help you.”
“You just did.” he insisted, but Yoongi could read it in your eyes that there was something more.
“No, I mean… This arrangement doesn’t have to be just for me.” your eyes dropped to his lips and Yoongi licked at his bottom lip on instinct, something inside him stirring into life. “I’m here if you need me. For whatever.”
“Doll.”
It was a warning, but Yoongi wasn’t sure of what. Was he warning you that he might say yes? That he might be falling for you? At this point it felt like it was too late to warn you about that last one.
“Would you let me?” you asked, a little more steadily, hand touching the side of his face, thumb running across his cheek. “Let me take care of you.”
“Okay.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Yoongi nodded, even if you didn’t even have to ask. This was dangerous, at least for the man, as kissing you was easily becoming one of his favorite things to do. He hugged you a little tighter as you started placing tiny kisses against his lips, just because. And then your mouth pressed against his, properly this time, and it stayed there for a while longer.
You were dictating the pace and the intensity of the kiss, and Yoongi let you. He wanted to see how far you would take this, how you intended on taking care of him, so he followed your lead, moving his lips against yours only when you did so. Your tongue slipped past your lips to lick at his and Yoongi parted his mouth and chased yours.
Only for you to pull back with a teasing little smile and playful eyes.
“What a greedy boy.” you whispered, the hand on his nape slipping into his hair.
“Baby, please.” Yoongi heard himself saying, avoiding your eyes.
“Hm. I like that.” with a stronger hold of his hair, you made his neck bend backwards.
Yoongi gasped in surprise and asked: “When I say please?”
“When you call me baby.”
You were smiling against his neck as you kissed just under his jaw, teeth nipping at his skin and Yoongi wanted you to claim him just as much as he wished he could claim you.
Yoongi’s hands were around you, squeezing you, pressing his fingertips as he tried to feel more of you. Your sweet smile was the last thing he saw when his eyes fluttered closed and you kissed his lips. Really kissed, squeezing his long hair between your fingers once more, slipping your tongue past his lips to lick at his.
Your lips moved in sync, dragging over each other’s, with so much more familiarity than the first time you kissed, but the bat-like butterflies were still there. Yoongi knew the taste of your lips, and he knew you liked it when he sucked on your bottom lip or pushed his tongue deeper into your mouth to take control back.
Your little, breathy moan was swallowed by Yoongi as his hand dropped to your ass and he squeezed.
“I’m supposed to be taking care of you, babe.” you said with a little whine and Yoongi’s body twitched with the new pet name.
“How are you planning on doing that?” he challenged, staring at your swollen bottom lip, taking it into his mouth before you had the chance to reply.
With a new moan, eyes closing shut, your hand slid down Yoongi’s body, between his legs, to palm his growing bulge. Yoongi hissed and let go of your lip, spreading his legs wider and shamelessly so you’d have more space to work with.
“Let me show you.”
With one last press of your mouths, you left his lap and sunk down to the floor, sitting on your feet between his legs, thighs pressed together as your small hands rested atop his. Yoongi’s breath got caught up in his throat as this was a sight he longed to see for longer than he’d ever openly admit.
Up until this point in your arrangement, you hadn’t yet done what you were so clearly hinting at. You hadn’t reached that part of your book just yet, but it was just another proof that today wasn’t about your book, but about Yoongi. As long as you wanted it too, so he checked:
“You know you don’t have to, right?” his hand landed softly on top of yours as he caressed your smooth skin.
“I want you, Yoongi.”
The way you said those words made Yoongi believe in much more than what you were about to do right now. It gave him hope that, maybe, one day they would be true the way he wanted them to be.
You scooted just a little closer to his legs, cheek rubbing on the inside of his thigh as you laid your head there, staring up at him with uncertain eyes that told him you weren’t quite sure what to do. But Yoongi didn’t hurry you, more than okay with following your pace, letting you explore and experiment.
Just as long as he could keep looking at you like this.
A gentle hand touched your face, tracing the curve of your nose, down to the shape of your cupid's bow, pulling gently on your bottom lip to see it part. You closed your eyes as you basked in his caresses, mouth opening to lick at the pad of Yoongi’s thumb making not only his breath grow heavy, but his dick twitch in his pants.
“My pretty girl.” Yoongi’s words left him without much thought.
“Yeah?” you sighed, eyes fluttering as your face pulled away from his legs and your hands reached for the waistband of his pants. “Are you claiming me?”
Yoongi felt hot all over, in his cheeks, in his chest, toes curling inside his studio slippers. You had no idea just how badly he wanted to claim you, in every sense of the word.
He lifted his hips higher as you pulled his trousers down his legs; not sure if this was the best day to not wear anything else under his soft cotton pants. It made your job easier and it cut back on the teasing, but when his cock sprung free, already hard and ready, your eyes widened slightly with overwhelming.
You tried not to let it show, or maybe you were just a little more eager to see him bare, letting the pants fall around his ankles as he spread his legs just a little wider. Yoongi was past the point of feeling self conscious about showing himself to you like this, letting your curious eyes roam all of him, but this was a new angle for you, and he wondered what you were thinking.
You held his cock from the base, raising a little on your knees to reach his tip. Your hand wrapping around him was familiar, he knew your grip, the feel of your smooth fingers. But the feeling of your lips dragging up his shaft was brand new, as was the wetness of your tongue as you licked at the tip.
Yoongi pushed the backrest of his chair a little further back to recline it, hands holding tightly onto the arm rests on each side of him. Suddenly his shirt felt too hot as it started clinging to his chest, but removing it felt like too much for right now, even for him.
You teased the slit of his cock with the tip of your tongue, swirling it around the crown, hand moving up and down slowly, as if you had done this a million times before, as if you knew what Yoongi liked. The slide of your hand was a little dry, so you pulled away from him to spit on your palm and make it better.
Yoongi’s breath hitched and came out as a slow moan as you wrapped your lips around his tip once you returned to what you were doing, looking up at him as if asking if it was okay.
“You’re doing so well, baby.” he told you in a raspy voice that made your eyes flutter. “Keep going.”
You nodded, seemingly forgetting you had a cock in your mouth, which made it slide just a little deeper into your mouth. It made Yoongi moan a little louder as he felt more of the warmth of your mouth, and you liked that, sinking down just a little further until you both felt the moment he hit the back of your throat.
You sputtered with surprise, pulling off of him as you held back a cough with a hand over your lips.
“Easy, baby. Don’t want to hurt you.” he assured you with a fond smile. “You’ll learn to deepthroat with time.”
“Wanna make you feel good, Yoon.” you pouted, bringing your lips to his cock again.
“You are.” he nodded through half lidded eyes, fingers twitching on the arm rests as he controlled the urge to hold you by the hair or back of your head. “Just put it in your mouth. Suck a little.”
You did exactly that, wrapping pouty lips around the tip, moving your tongue around it inside your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you gave it experimental sucks. You hummed as his pre-cum dribbled out of him and onto your tongue, and Yoongi’s eyes rolled as he heard you audibly swallow.
“Fuck, that’s it.” he cursed low and heavy.
A little more confident, your lips dragged down his cock, pushing a little more of him inside, sliding on the flat of your tongue. Whatever you couldn’t fit inside –which was a lot–, you worked with your hand in tugs and strokes. You looked so perfect like this, spit coming out of the corners of your mouth, tears brimming your eyes, jaw probably aching to accommodate his girth.
When you pulled out again it was in search of air, breathing as hard as he was. Your hand stroked Yoongi’s cock in that way you already knew he liked, closing a fist around the head as you twisted your wrist and pumped up and down. You were mouthing on his shaft, licking and sucking on his skin, tracing the engorged vein.
Instead of making it up to the top again, your lips dragged down and down and Yoongi’s heart was in his throat. Your mouth was hot and wet as you took one of his heavy balls into your mouth, eyes on his face as if to ask if that was okay.
“Shit, that’s nice–” he made sure to tell you, no longer able to control his hands on his sides.
He held you by the back of your neck with a firm hold, squeezing your nape to encourage you to suck a little harder, which he instantly regretted as it made his lower stomach tense. Yoongi tugged gently on your hair to pull you off his sac and it should be illegal how innocent and wide eyes you looked during such an act.
“Sorry, did I hurt you?” you asked with a scratchy voice, which made you frown and Yoongi chuckle.
“No, doll, that was too good.” he sighed a breathy gasp.
“Oh.” you smiled, a little shy, hand never stopping the long tugs of his cock. With a giggle, you admitted: “I think I like sucking you off.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi’s smile was still fond, despite the tension on his limbs and the sweat covering his body. “Think you can make me cum like this, hm?”
You nodded with vigor, not an ounce of doubt in your stance. Yoongi chuckled, but it would hardly be a challenge when you were getting him so close to his end already.
A jolt of hot, white pleasure coursed through him as you mouth was on him again, fingers tightening on your hair as you covered your teeth with your lips as you sunk down and sucked harder as you pulled off. You started bobbing on his cock, pumping his shaft, fist connected to your lips to give Yoongi the feeling of being buried deep into your wet mouth.
You started sinking lower and lower, not taking him all the way, but Yoongi felt your throat open and contract around him as you tried and tried to push him as deep as you could. Yoongi was a mindless mess, nothing else existed outside of his studio, nothing else mattered but the pure bliss you were inflicting on him.
With droopy eyes, Yoongi watched you make a mess out of him, spit leaking from your mouth and covering your fingers and his cock. His cock was throbbing, painfully hard, twitching in time with his untamed moans that only made you keep going.
Your free hand cradled his balls gently, squeezing as they felt heavier, drawing up as his lower stomach tensed. He wanted to hold your pretty face in place and fuck his cook deep down your throat, but it was much too soon for that. Instead, he just sat there, about to go insane with how good you were making him feel.
Yoongi had no warning words for you, but you didn’t need them as you read the familiar signs of when he was about to cum; the pulsing of the fat vein on the underside, the twitches of his muscles, the groans and rough moans he wasn’t trying to contain anymore.
Your lips stayed around his crown, tongue swirling and twirling around it with little sucks of your mouth as your fist twisted just under the tip. That and the harder squeeze of his balls was too much for him to hold back from. Yoongi felt his whole body flush, jolting with pure ecstasy that pushed him a little deeper, just as his orgasm hit him like a truck.
He spilled inside your mouth with thick ribbons of white and you closed your eyes as you let him use your mouth. You were humming, he thought he heard it through his ringing ears, as you swallowed his load like a good girl.
Some of it escaped from the corner of your mouth and you licked it clean after you pulled off of him once you milked the last drop of his release. Yoongi was breathing hard, with a stupidly proud grin on his face as you gave his softening cock little kisses.
“Was that acceptable?” you asked with those innocent eyes again.
“It was great, doll.” he nodded with a gummy smile, eyes closed as his hand dropped from the back of your head. “More than great. It was perfect.”
You were giggling as you stood up on wobbly legs, pulling Yoongi’s pants along. “I’ll believe you once you're not drunk on your orgasm.”
“Ask me again in ten minutes then.” he laughed, settling his pants around his hips and reaching for you.
“Does that mean I get to stay a little more?” you beamed, sitting on his lap, resting your red cheek against his shoulder.
“You can stay all day if you want.” You could stay forever.
OCTOBER 19TH | 17:26
Yoongi avoided leaving his studio in the middle of his workday. Not only did he have deadlines he had to match, but it was his safe space. A place that more often than not felt like his home more than his own apartment. But he didn’t mind leaving Genius Lab if it meant he got to see you for an hour, share a cup of coffee in the place that meant so much for the two of you.
The coffee shop across the street from the music company he worked for was the very place the two of you had met all those years ago. In an afternoon much like this one, where the autumn leaves were stuck to the wet pavement, a light rain was falling over central Seoul and the weather made you dress a little warmer.
That day you had been searching for a change of scenery as you wrote what would soon become your first published book, and Yoongi was looking for a different background after staring at his computer screen all day.
As he crossed the street, hands deep in his military-green jacket, hair partially hidden by a black beanie, Yoongi could already see you sitting at your preferred spot, by the big glass wall. Yoongi much rather sit deep into the shop, as the busy passers-by always posed a distraction to him whenever he tried to write lyrics outside of his usual set up.
You, however, always said that you liked to watch people walking by, often getting lost in watching the life outside the café. You were both writers, he supposed. But while he wrote songs to sing or rap, you built worlds for people to get lost in.
Yoongi could never do what you did.
He was about to knock on the glass, wave at you to show he arrived and was coming in, but as a guy approached you and took your attention completely, Yoongi froze. He knew who the guy was, having been served by the man many times during his visits to the coffee shop. And he also knew that Kai had a not so secret and very obvious crush on you.
Yoongi couldn’t blame the guy, he was in the same boat afterall, and you seemed oblivious to both of their infatuations with you. But it always rubbed Yoongi the wrong way, especially now. Even if he knew that this agreement you had going on gave him absolutely no claim over you whatsoever.
In fact, it made Yoongi’s throat feel a little dry as he realized that he wasn’t just teaching you things you could use in your book, but you could also use in real life. With other guys. With guys like Kai.
Not that hooking up with him –if he could even really call it that– would mean any great changes in your life. You were naturally flirty, but not obnoxiously so. And you were already confident, never afraid of speaking your mind, a social butterfly that made friends with anyone, anywhere.
All Yoongi was doing was taking the pressure off.
By sharing these experiences with you, all he did was make sure that your “firsts” were with someone you trusted, someone you wouldn’t regret down the line. Even if virginity was just a concept created by society to control and overpower women over the centuries and dictate their values, it was still kind of a big deal.
But once you were done with that unnecessary pressure, you’d be free to have all of the one night stands and adventures that your heart desired. You said so yourself, you never had them before because that’s not how you envisioned your first time.
Yoongi didn’t think that’s what you had in mind when you asked for his help, and he was positive you were focused on writing your book and that was it. But it didn’t mean that you wouldn’t realize this once you were done with the novel. Once you were done with him.
“Hey!” the knocking on the glass, coming from the inside, made Yoongi jump. You were looking at him expectantly with that sweet smile of yours, a little wave as you called him in. "Aren't you coming?"
"Yeah, yeah."
By the time Yoongi walked into the neutral colored coffee shop, Kai was already gone and you were closing the lid of your laptop, waiting for him to walk to you.
The smell of coffee and fresh pastries attacked Yoongi’s stomach, reminding him he had skipped lunch; a fact you’d definitely scold him for if you found out. He’d order something to eat in a bit, Kai never spent too long without an excuse to go back to your table anyway, at least he could do some work while blatantly flirting with you.
“What were you doing out there?” you asked him with an amused smile, looking cute in your mustard-yellow knitted sweater.
“Thought I forgot my phone for a sec.” he lied, patting the device on his pocket just to make sure he hadn’t actually.
“I highly doubt you would, that’s like an appendage to you at this point.” you joked, pushing the plate with an orange muffin towards Yoongi. “Here. Eat.”
“How–”
“How did I know you didn’t eat? Call it an educated guess.” you jutted out your chin, resting back against your chair and taking a sip of your drink. You were having a hot chocolate today, which wasn't surprising as it was your drink of choice whenever the weather started to turn cold. “I like to think I know you pretty well, Yoon.”
“If you really knew me, you’d have coffee waiting too.” Yoongi grumbled, using it to cover the fact that the knowledge you had of him and his habits made him a little giddy.
“Nope, not until you eat. I don’t want you developing stomach problems with the amount of caffeine you already drink.”
You shook your head, blowing on your hot chocolate before taking another sip. Yoongi listened to you, as he always did, and plucked pieces of the muffin to take into his mouth. This was his favorite baked good from this coffee shop, something he had never tried before you showed up in his life.
Now it was his usual order, his guilty pleasure to indulge in whenever he had a craving for something sweet. It didn’t have anything to do with you, he always tried to convince himself, it was just another one of his habits.
“Were you writing?” Yoongi asked as you seemed distracted watching a woman walk a small dog outside. The dog was wearing even smaller rain boots, which was no doubt the reason for your delighted smile.
“Mhm, I’m making progress, thankfully.” you nodded, attention moving back to him. “Thanks to you.”
“You’re the writer, I’m not doing anything.” he shrugged noncommittally, swallowing the last piece of his muffin.
“We both know that’s not true.” after noticing he was done eating, you looked at the counter of the shop, lifting your hand in a thumbs up that made Kai nod in the distance. “You’re helping me in an unconventional way, but you are.”
“As long as it’s really helping.”
Not even a minute later, Kai was back at your table, greeting Yoongi with an ‘afternoon, hyung’ and placing a coffee in front of him. One Yoongi hadn’t ordered or paid for. You had a proud little smile pulling on your berry-lipstick-lips, raising an eyebrow as if challenging Yoongi to say you didn’t know him again.
“I think I managed to fix most scenes.” you got back on the subject, leaning forward on the table with your elbows, holding the hot chocolate mug between your hands.
“Already?” Yoongi was surprised to say the least, but he knew what it was like to be under pressure to make through deadlines.
“Yes, but the first chapters are pretty tame, so.” you justified. “Nothing I really need to delete and start over.”
“Good.”
Yoongi got a little lost on the way you brought your drink to your lips, watching as your lipstick left a stain on the rim of the mug. He wondered how good that color would look staining his skin instead; his lips, his neck, his chest.
“What about you? How did that meeting go yesterday?” you asked him earnestly, reaching out to hold his hand on top of the table and Yoongi felt little shocks where your hands met.
“Ah, it went well, yeah. Pretty well, actually.” a tight lipped smile turned into a gummy one as he said: “I’m going to be working with Jae-sang sunbaenim.”
Your scoff was pained as you frowned: “I’m sorry, am I so out of the loop that I don’t know who that is?”
“You know him as PSY.”
The squeal that escaped your lips was high pitched enough to catch the attention of the table next to yours, but you never minded that and this time Yoongi didn’t mind the looks from strangers either.
“What?!” you hissed, a lot more contained this time. “No way!”
“I’m pretty excited about it, actually.” Yoongi let out a small sound of his own; one that sounded like a squeak as he wanted to get up and do a little dance. But he didn’t.
“You should be! That’s huge!” your hold on his hand was a little firmer, smile a little brighter.
Yoongi had worked with famous musicians many times before. The main part of his job was writing and producing for other artists, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own mixtapes, and his own collaborations with stars that be admired; like IU –much for Jungkook’s delight and Jimin’s panic–, Suran, MAX and Lee Sora. But none of those had the potential of really making it internationally as this collab with PSY had.
“He wants me to feature on it, too.” he told you, and your jaw dropped.
“Yoongi! That’s amazing!” your other hand reached for his and you held it between yours. “You deserve it so much. I’m so proud of you, I hope you know that.”
“Thanks, doll.”
“We should do something to celebrate.” you stated before he had the chance to deflect.
With a shrug, and the desire to hold onto your hands for the next three hours, he said: “We’re having coffee at our spot, that’s good enough.”
“Not for a collab with PSY it’s not.” you sounded almost offended. “I’d say we should go to Serendipity, but you hate clubs.”
“Please don’t make me go there again.” his laugh was one of suffering and despair, which made you giggle.
“Oh! I know!” you chirped, letting go of his hands in order to clap excitedly, just once. “I’m going to cook for you!”
“I thought you wanted to do something nice–”
“Hajimaaaa!” you complained with another laugh, one so contagious Yoongi found himself mimicking. “Maybe I’ll order something from Jin’s restaurant then, and put it in pans and dishes, so you think I cooked.”
“Sounds good, doll.” Yoongi agreed, which was the easiest thing to do.
“Perfect! It’s a date then.”
OCTOBER 21ST | 18:03
By the time Yoongi made it to his car, he had already opened and buttoned up his shirt all of five times. He did trust Jimin when it came to fashion choices, but not when it came to mischief. And that group chat screamed ‘dongsaengs up to no good’. But the two boys did make Yoongi feel good about his choice of clothing, how he did his hair and the little bit of makeup he added to his lids just to make them pop.
He could only hope you didn’t think he was trying too hard.
Even though he was.
Even if this wasn’t a date.
Yoongi’s routine each time he sat in his car was always the same: Sit down, make sure the mirrors were all in the right position, start the car, connect his phone to the bluetooth sound system, pick a playlist he was in the mood for, seatbelt, drive. But this afternoon as he drove out of the parking lot of his not-so-modest-building in Hannam, the soundtrack for Yoongi’s drive was the beep of a connecting call.
“Hyung!” Namjoon’s voice was the one fill his car as the call was connected. “You know you’re the only person who even makes calls these days, right? A text would have been fine.”
“I’m driving, can’t text.” Yoongi provided as he leaned a little further front to see that his road was free and he could go.
“Oh. Ohhh, are you going to see our favorite writer for your celebratory date?” Namjoon’s all knowing tone made a tiny smudge of heat taint his cheeks, but at least he wasn’t there to see it and tease him about it.
More to himself than to his best friend, Yoongi felt the need to clarify: “Not a date, but yeah, I’m on my way.”
“And you called me to get tips on her latest chapters?” on the other line of the call, Yoongi could hear Namjoon’s voice turning a little clearer, as if he’d closed the door of his office. “I just read the edited ones and damn, hyung! Who knew you had that dirty mouth–”
“That’s not– She doesn’t write what we do word by word.” Yoongi panicked for a second, thinking about not only Namjoon, but the rest of the world reading what the two of you had been doing. With a whisper, he hissed: “Right?”
“Don’t worry, I’m just messing with you.” Namjoon laughed and Yoongi shook his head, fingers relaxing on the steering wheel. “But she’s been doing well, I don’t have any new pointers for the chapters. She’s a lot happier too, it seems, and I don’t think the book is the only reason why.”
“You know, that right there is the reason I’m calling you.” Yoongi scoffed for no one to see as he drove out of his neighborhood and into the busy roads of Seoul. So much for avoiding rush hour when the capital was hustling 24/7.
“What did I do this time?” Namjoon sighed on the other side.
“Not this time, still the same thing.” he said. “Why did you put this crazy idea into her head?”
“Hyung. It's been weeks.” his best friend sounded tired, as if they went over this time and time again. And they had.
“Over a month and I already regret this–”
“Do you regret accepting it? Or do you wish she never asked you?” Namjoon had a way of using hard phrases and poetic analogies sometimes, the perks of being an editor and a published poet, no doubt.
“What's the difference?”
“Well, in one scenario you realize you work better as friends, and in the other it means you got it bad.”
“I got it so fucking bad is not even funny.”
Admitting that to his best friend was easier over the phone. Even if Yoongi knew Namjoon and all of their other friends also knew about it. It was a miracle that you didn’t, at this point. Unless you did, but had been ignoring it in order to not make things awkward.
If that was the case, Yoongi wasn’t sure if he should be thankful or worried.
“Ahh, I see. So your feelings are growing impossibly fast and you're starting to feel bad because you don't think this means the same for her as it means for you?” Namjoon summed it up as Yoongi stopped his car at a red light.
The trees were in full autumn colors, all shades of red, yellow and orange. If Yoongi rolled his windows down, he was sure he could smell the pumpkin spice and cinnamon in the air, which always brought him a nice, warm feeling inside.
“Was this part of a master plan to get back at me for senior year?” Yoongi asked after a lightbulb moment.
“What?”
“You know, Jiheun?”
Jiheun was a girl Namjoon had a massive crush on, back when they were both in High School. And Yoongi might have read the signs wrong and told his best friend that the girl liked him back. Only for poor, string bean, bowl cut, awkward Namjoon to ask her out and get rejected in the middle of the school cafeteria.
“Wha- hyung! Of course not, it's been years I’m not that petty.”
“Okay, okay.” not that Yoongi thought Namjoon would do something like this as they were both adults now, but his anxiety-filled-brain still asked stupid stuff sometimes.
“Besides, I have a simple solution to your problem.” Namjoon stated.
“Do tell, because I'm almost at her place.” not completely true, he still had one more stop on the way to your apartment.
“Have you thought about confessing?”
Yoongi’s answer was the love child between a wheeze and a snicker.
“If you're not happy about this agreement, but you still wanna help her, and be with her for real,” Namjoon continued, seeing as Yoongi was too gobsmacked to reply. “Then tell her how you're feeling.”
“What part of that solution is simple?” Yoongi asked with a glare directed to the panel of his car, hoping Namjoon could feel its heat.
“It’s simple because it’s telling the truth.”
“The truth that could ruin everything. Her book, our friendship–” Yoongi argued, being interrupted by his best friend:
“Are you so afraid of rejection that you would rather keep hurting yourself? You know this arrangement won't last forever.”
“I know.”
“And maybe she feels the same way.”
Yoongi’s fingers tightened against the steering wheel just a little harder as he said: “That’s a big fucking maybe.”
“Didn’t you say she’s been calling you babe and shit? And you like… cuddle now?”
“Mhm.”
“Those are good signs, hyung!”
He knew that, it’s been plaguing his mind for the past couple of weeks. But to hear someone else say it, someone as rational as he was, made him feel like maybe it wasn’t just wishful thinking on his part.
As if the universe was on his side for once in his life, Yoongi found a parking spot right in front of Maybell Bakery. You had promised to cook for Yoongi tonight, but he said he’d bring dessert. And you really liked the double layered, pumpkin pie that was only sold during the month of october and was extremely overpriced, so he placed an order and paid a little extra for it to be done by the time he was able to pick it up.
“Alright, I’m here. Gotta go.”
“Okay. Call me if something happens, I’m invested in this.” Namjoon said and Yoongi could picture his little grin that would most likely poke a dimple in his cheeks.
“You better be, you’re the one who threw me into this mess.” Yoongi took his seatbelt off, but didn’t move, waiting for his friend to hang up.
“You fail to remember that she’s the one who asked you, I didn’t tell her to go after you.” Namjoon pointed out in that know-it-all tone that fit him so well. “If I’m being honest, I thought she’d go for Hoseok hyung and not you.”
“What?!” Yoongi frowned at that new piece of information, hand freezing on the way to his key to turn off the car.
“He’s more… Dom, you know? That seems to be more like her type.”
“Great–”
Yoongi did take control with you, and he had his moments in bed before, where he had girls and guys begging for him to let them cum, but he wouldn’t define himself as a Dom. Not the way Hoseok was, Namjoon was right about that.
“But she still went after you, hyung! That counts for a lot.” Namjoon tried to backtrack but the damage was done.
“I know, okay.” Yoongi took a deep, calming breath that didn’t do much to quell his nerves; of seeing you, of considering the ideas Namjoon was planting in his mind. “Nice going on telling the kids about this, by the way. Jiminie and Jungkook were teasing me about this date.”
“First of all, stop stalling and get out of your car already.” Namjoon laughed on the other side and Yoongi nodded to himself. “And second of all, I didn’t tell anybody.”
“Then how did they know–”
“Well, hyung. Have you ever thought that maybe she told them? And she’s thinking of this as a date?”
Yoongi had not, in fact, thought about that possibility. Not only were you a lot closer to the three younglings –who were closer to you in age– than Namjoon, you usually told each other everything, seeing as Jimin had been your best friend since way before he even met you.
So to say it gave Yoongi all kinds of butterflies, the simple chance of you telling your best friend and his boyfriend that you were having a date tonight, officially, would be an understatement.
“Go get your girl.”
Namjoon’s encouragement was the last thing he heard before leaving his car to pick up your pie in the bakery.
On the drive to your place, Yoongi’s nose was being attacked by the fresh baked goods resting on the passenger’s seat of his car, as his mind was plagued with the thoughts of you and him.
You, who had walked into his life by mere chance, and stayed in it from your own insistence, as Yoongi hardly made new friends. You, who had the most expressive eyes Yoongi had ever seen. You, who owned his heart in a tight grip and you didn’t even know.
You, who were already waiting for him at the front door of your apartment as the elevator dropped him off on your floor.
“You don’t have to call me to buzz you in everytime, Yoon, you know the code to the gate.” was the first thing out of your pretty mouth as you walked him into your apartment.
“So, what, am I supposed to just let myself in?” Yoongi’s smile was easy as he slipped out of his shoes. “Why don’t you give me the key to your apartment while you’re at it?”
You giggled as you said: “Because then you might come in and steal all of my tangerines.”
Yoongi was rolling his eyes at your words, pink cheeks as you called him out on his small addiction to the fruit. You reached for him after you locked the door of your apartment, raising on your toes to kiss his lips in that way that made Yoongi feel like you were something more.
“You look so handsome tonight.” you told him so, a hand smoothing the black silk shirt he was wearing.
“Thanks. You’re always looking pretty.” Yoongi told you in an unbribed moment of boldness, making you smile sweetly, hand still on his chest.
You were wearing a black sundress with a tiny red cherries pattern that was too light for the weather outside, but perfect for the toasty ambiance you kept your apartment in.
“Thank you.” you beamed, walking deeper into your apartment and leading him inside. “What’s that you got there?”
“Can’t you take a guess?”
Yoongi saw you eyeing the cardboard box with the pretty fall themed design when he walked in, and there was no way you couldn’t smell the festive pie. But you were still playing coy, as you usually did whenever anyone gave you gifts or did something nice for you; never one who liked to assume.
You and him were pretty alike in that sense.
“I know what I want it to be, but that would be impossible, because I’ve been calling Maybell and they keep telling me they are booked for the double layer pumpkin pie until next year.” you told him with a pretty pout. Yoongi had just felt your lips, but he wanted more.
Focusing on the matter at hand, he placed the box on top of your small kitchen counter and pushed it closer to you as he said: “Why don’t you open it, then?”
You did so, pulling apart the dark orange bow to open the box, letting out a high pitched squeal as you saw the pie. Yoongi’s mouth watered at the sight, he could only imagine your excitement.
“Yoongi!” you gushed with a small jump. “How the hell did you do this?!”
“There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” he said, not really calculating his words and offering you a tight lipped smile as he realized how he sounded.
“Cheesy.” you giggled, but reached out to squeeze his arm. “Thank you.”
“What smells so good?” Yoongi deflected.
“That would be the bulgogi!” you chirped, pointing to the pan in the oven. “We can eat in a bit, and I hope it tastes as good as it smells.”
“Well, you’re making it, so I’m sure it probably won’t–”
“Than–hey!” you laughed at his joke, huffing as you pretended to be mad, which made Yoongi laugh along.
You shook your head and walked to the fridge, opening it to grab a wine bottle that Yoongi could recognize the label of. It was the brand and kind that he used to have at home, alongside his many bottles of whiskey.
“Should we open this? It’s supposed to go well with the food, according to Naver.” you offered, and your eyes were pleading.
“I’m driving, doll. If you had told me you wanted to drink, I would have taken a lift.” it hurt him to say that, and Yoongi didn’t like the way it made you bite your lip, uncertain.
“You can spend the night.” you told him, avoiding his eyes as you placed the bottle on the counter. Not moving to open it, but not putting it away either. “Or you can leave your car here and I’ll drive it back to you tomorrow.”
You didn’t like driving in Seoul, Yoongi knew that. You did have a license, and you drove whenever you absolutely had to, but it wasn’t something you’d offer lightly. Not only wouldn’t he put you through that, but the option of sleeping over at your place tonight was an inviting one.
You had spent the night at his place before, shared a bed, so it wasn’t the end of the world and wouldn’t make Yoongi spiral. But this was the first time that you’d share your bed. And somehow that felt like a new step you were taking in whatever this was.
Yoongi moved around you to take the bottle opener resting on the counter behind you and you smiled at his acceptance grabbing the two wine glasses you had already left out.
Once the drink was poured into the glasses, you made the move to sit on the small couch of your modest apartment and Yoongi followed you closely.
Your apartment was a small one bedroom unit, with a tiny kitchen and small living room. Enough for a single woman living alone in Seoul. It was filled with creams, whites and a few pops of color here and there. Yoongi could already notice the pumpkin shaped candle holder on top of your center table, and the cookie jar that looked like a ghost on your kitchen counter.
“I see you’re getting ready for halloween.” Yoongi pointed out.
“Oh, those have been out since October first.” you smiled, following his line of vision. You pulled a maple leaf printed cushion and rested it over your legs to sit comfortably. “You have to see my room, it’s really cute.”
Yoongi chuckled, because he could imagine the sheets that must be in autumn colors, maybe some bunting and pumpkin shaped fairy lights.
“I’m thinking I want to do Halloween differently this year.” you started again, softly swirling the wine in your glass.
“Yeah?”
“Mhm. Jiminie wants to go to Serendipity for costume night.” you were nodding as you told Yoongi of the plans.
“Of course he does.” he mused. “What are you thinking about dressing as? Sexy Anne Rice again?”
“Oh my god, that wasn’t supposed to be sexy!” you giggled with a cute blush on your cheeks, hiding your eyes behind a hand.
“The fang marks on your neck made it sexy.” Yoongi hadn’t seen you dressed in the costume that was supposed to represent your favorite writer, that would mean he actually went to the halloween party last year, but he got many selcas and pictures of the night.
“Well, it was an homage to her Interview With a Vampire world.” you explained and he smiled, because that was just so you.
“What are you thinking of changing this year?” he asked and you moved a little on your seat.
“I’m thinking about a couple's costume.” you said, not looking at him, and Yoongi’s blood ran cold. “Maybe I’ll dress up as Agatha Christie. Now I just need to find my Poirot.”
“That’s, uhm–” Yoongi nodded, gaining time to drink a few long sips of his wine.
How was he supposed to answer that? You were thinking of going to a club with someone else? Wearing a couple’s costume? You knew Yoongi didn’t go to clubs or parties, so you obviously didn’t mean you thought you and him should go together. It was easy to wonder if you were talking to someone on the side.
On the side of what? Yoongi asked himself bitterly. It’s not like you two were dating in the first place. It was easy for him to forget about it, but you clearly didn’t.
“Are you thinking of doing anything?” you pushed as the silence grew too thick.
“Nah. My building might have trick or treaters again, so I’ll just give out candy.” he shrugged, bringing the glass to his lips.
“I can help you with that!”
“I’m sure you’ll find your Poirot by then and will be too busy for your friends.”
That was a jab at himself, a way for him to get it through his head that that’s what the two of you were. You were just offering him help to be nice, because you were really nice. So nice you’d have anyone wishing to go to a club with you as your date.
Yoongi included. If you asked him.
“Yeah, we’ll see.” you sounded a little disappointed as you sipped quietly on your wine, but that could have been his own projecting. “So how’s the collab with PSY coming along?”
As you both sipped on your wine, Yoongi told you all of what he knew so far about That That. He’d have a meeting with the artist again this following week, to talk about their expectations and schedules, but he was staying positive.
You were so excited for him, hanging off to his every word, asking questions and being so supportive of him and everything he did that his hunched shoulders turned a little straighter and his breathing got a little easier.
There was no need to be worried right now, Yoongi decided, the more wine he drank, the further away the lump in his throat got. No matter what happened tomorrow, he still had tonight.
“I really hope he makes you dance.” you were saying as you brought the dinner to the small table, making Yoongi scoff.
“There’s no fucking way I’m dancing.” he told you with a squint, following you with the last of the banchans.
“Oh, come on, you’d be so good at it!” you told him without an ounce of doubt, giggling as you turned to face him. “I’m sure you can move those hips!”
Yoongi had a bowl of kimchi in one hand and another of fresh cabbage slaw in the other, so he had no way of protecting himself when you held him by the hips, making him turn this way and that as if you were proving he could dance.
“Hajimaaaa.” he warned you with closed eyes and a laugh on his lips.
“Admit it, you’d be great at shaking that ass!” you continued to sway him, both of your laughs mixing together as he was just trying to put the food down.
“I will do no such thing.”
With each step forward Yoongi took, you took one backwards, until you both reached the table and he could place the banchans down. His hands were now free, so he could take yours away from his hips and pin them to his chest.
“Hajima.” he repeated, a little lower this time, as he could smell the wine on your breath from close to each other you were.
“Or what?” you challenged with a pretty, innocent smile.
“Or I’ll have to stop you myself.”
“I think Min Yoongi is the greatest dancer this country has ever–”
Yoongi felt your smile against his as his lips pressed against yours, softly, but determined. He let go of your hands in order to hold both sides of your face as his lips moved against yours, tongue licking between your lips for you to part them for him. You were holding onto his shirt, little gasps leaving you as his tongue swiped at yours.
Yeah. At least he had tonight.
OCTOBER 21ST | 21:17
As it turns out, Yoongi did not have tonight.
Towards the end of the dinner –which was delicious, by the way–, you started to grow a little restless. Too stuck in your mind at times, not really answering Yoongi’s questions as if there was something worrying you. And Yoongi knew not to push you, you’d tell him whatever was bothering you whenever you felt comfortable to do so.
He knew something was really wrong when he got up to take the empty dishes to the sink and you didn’t try to stop him, nor did you move to help. You stayed in your spot, looking at the top of the table as if you were reading something really important there.
And then it came, the three words that made Yoongi’s stomach drop:
“Can we talk?”
Yoongi left the dishes where they were, too nervous and hands too trembling for him to attempt to wash any of them. When he turned to you, you weren’t sitting at the table anymore, but standing in the living room, looking over at the city lights outside your window, arms around yourself as if you were trying to self soothe.
“What’s up?” he asked you, voice wavering.
“I’m not sure how I feel about this agreement anymore.” you were blunt and straight to the point. The dinner and the wine were trying to make a comeback, but Yoongi held himself together.
“Oh.”
“I mean, I did learn a lot–I am learning a lot. Each time we… do something, it’s fun and nice and I really enjoy myself.” this is when you turned around to face him and it wasn’t fucking fair that you looked this good while you were about to break his heart.
“Okay.”
“Maybe you were expecting to have sex tonight–”
Hearing this made Yoongi take a couple steps to close the distance between you, but stopped short of touching you. “No, doll. Stop, you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to explain yourself to me, you know I’d never push you.”
“I know.” you nodded softly, avoiding his eyes, twirling the ring on your finger.
“We can just drop everything, I told you from the start.” he assured you once more, having to stick his hands into his pocket to stop himself from reaching out to touch you. He’d never get to touch you again. Pretending this wasn’t hurting him, that his hands wouldn’t shake if they were out of his pockets, that the lump in his throat wasn’t back. “There’s no pressure. You’re free to walk away whenever you want.”
“Yeah, okay.” you sniffed, as if you were about to cry. Yoongi’s heart broke for a whole different reason. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright.” he shrugged, even if he was positive nothing would ever be right again.
“It’s not. I really didn’t mean for this to happen… God, I’m so silly.” you chuckled, but it was a heavy one. You took a step back, both hands on your waist as you shook your head.
“You’re not silly, you wanted to make your book better.” Yoongi supplied.
He wondered if he should just count his losses and leave, walk away with the little bit of dignity he still had left, make this easier for you as well. And he couldn’t even drive home, not with how much wine he had. He could take a cab and ask one of his friends to come back for his car tomorrow; what annoyed him was that he couldn’t even have Namjoon do that as payback when the man didn’t drive.
“Yeah, and what do I do?” you asked, obviously a rhetorical question as you laughed at yourself. “I ask the guy I have a crush on to help me.”
“What–”
“As if that crush wouldn’t turn into feelings!” you continued, waving a hand in the air.
Yoongi’s mind was a mess as he tried to make sense of your words. His voice came out as a high pitched sound as he asked: “Feelings?”
“I know I made this awkward. I’ll understand if you need me to step away for a little while.” you said, still not looking at him, still talking to yourself as you started walking from one side to the other, hands and arms making random gestures. “You know what, if anything, Namjoon made this awkward.”
“Doll.”
“He knows how I’ve always felt about you, and you know what he told me just this afternoon?” you looked at him then, but it was fleeting. “That I should just confess! As if that was so damn easy.”
Yoongi’s lips split into a grin and suddenly the weight was lifted. His stomach stopped turning, but the butterflies were still there. His cold sweat wasn’t of anxiety anymore and the trembling in his body was from excitement, not dread.
“Doll.”
“Well, this is the last time I’m ever listening to that giant fool–”
“Baby.”
At the term of endearment your mouth closed and you looked at Yoongi with wide, sparkling eyes. He walked to you then, hesitance flying out the window. When his hand touched your face, you didn’t flinch or pull away from him, leaning into his touch.
“Why are you doing this?” you asked softly, eyes closing, bottom lip pushing out. “Shouldn’t you be running?”
“I should be doing exactly this.” Yoongi pressed his lips to your forehead and you let out a shuddering breath.
“Yoon, it will only hurt more when you leave.” you pouted, and the producer guessed it was a good time to let you in on a little detail you seemed to still be missing.
“What if I don’t leave, hm?” he lifted your face when you avoided looking at him. “What if I have feelings for you too?”
“Well, that would be great, but–” you were about to start spinning again when you gasped. “Do you?”
“Thought it was obvious.” he chuckled, gums out and everything.
“Nuh-uh!”
Your jaw dropped and you blinked slowly, kinda like a cat, letting his words sink in, the small brushing of his thumb on your cheek that dragged down to touch your bottom lip. Then your lips kissed the pad of Yoongi’s digit, he looked at your eyes to find nothing but joy.
“Will you take me out on a date, then?” you asked, hands circling his torso in a hug.
“I think we just had our first date.” Yoongi looked over his shoulder to the table where your dinner had been perfectly pleasant until the moment you got in your head.
But Yoongi understood now why you were so restless, why you sunk in on yourself and barely touched your food towards the end of the dinner. He could imagine exactly all that had been plaguing your mind, as the same thing was running through his.
“But I’ll take you on a second one.” he said, kissing your cheek. “And on a third one. And fourth one.”
You were giggling and squeezing him as he kissed all over your face, just to hear more of your sweet noises. “Does that mean you’re my boyfriend now?”
“If you want me to be.” Yoongi nodded, pulling his face away from yours so he could look into your eyes as he asked: “Do you want to be mine?”
“I’ve been yours, babe.” your arms unwrapped from his middle so you could hug his shoulders. “You have no idea for how long.”
“Let’s keep it that way, okay?”
“Okay.”
You were smiling as Yoongi held your face a little firmer, pressed his lips to yours a little harder. It was just supposed to be a celebratory kiss, really, one that marked the end of your arrangement and the start of your relationship. Until he swiped his tongue between your lips and you parted them with a moan. Your hands slipped into his hair, his dropped to your waist.
The wet sounds of your mouths sliding together were turning Yoongi’s happiness and elation into pure desire, greed and desperation. You were his now. Properly. Truly. You were with him because you had feelings for each other, not because of a silly book.
With the way you were pressing yourself to him, as if trying to melt and mold the two of you into one being, he could guess you were feeling the same way. When you pulled your lips from his, they were red and slightly swollen, and your eyes were like a kaleidoscope, pulling him in, making him dizzy with all of your colors and shapes.
“You wanna see my room?” you invited, making Yoongi’s stomach do a flip.
“I do wanna see your Halloween decor.” he nodded with a grin.
You smiled and took his hand with yours, palms and fingers slotting together as if they belonged just like that. You dragged him out of the living room, through the short hallway and into your bedroom, turning the lights on to let him see the space.
Your bedroom followed the same color patterns as the rest of the apartment, lots of whites and creams, but the apricot orange bed sheets complimented the halloween decorations sprinkled here and there. Your double bed was pressed against the furthest wall, right under a high window. Your dresser was cluttered with makeup, an opened jewelry box, a few papers and your laptop. On the headboard of your bed, a string light with little white ghosts was hanging, which you turned on as soon as you walked into the room.
Next to your bed, on top of the white nightstand, was a book, a case of wireless earbuds Yoongi had gifted you on your last birthday, and a printed picture of you and him. It had been taken months ago, by Hoseok and one of his many disposable cameras, but Yoongi didn’t know you had kept it.
“Ah.” you said with a small laugh, wrapping your arms around Yoongi’s middle as you noticed what he was looking at. “I was hoping you might see that and realize I’m in love with you.”
“You could have my face as a blanket and I still wouldn’t have realized that.” Yoongi chuckled, pulling you to his front and bending down to pick you up. “It’s nice to hear it, though.”
You squealed as he lifted you with strong arms, biceps bulging in his tight shirt as you wrapped your legs around his waist and held on. Your gasp made him feel really good about himself.
“Bed?” you offered with a smile and an eyebrow wiggle.
“Bed.”
Yoongi was nodding as he took the two steps to reach your bed, holding you with a tight grip until he sat down against your headboard. The little plastic ghosts clinked and poked him in the back of the neck as he settled with you on his lap, making you giggle.
“Come here.” Yoongi urged and you complied.
Your small hands were on his chest, sliding on the silk fabric until your fingers came in contact with the triangle of skin created by the three buttons he left open –per Jimin’s advice–. Each of your legs were on one side of Yoongi’s hips, straddling him as you sat right on top of him.
“Did I tell you that you look pretty tonight?” you asked him as you dragged your nails on his skin, nose touching his, lips brushing together.
“Did I tell you that you look pretty every night?” he countered, eyes closing as he took your bottom lip between his teeth.
You mewled softly, chasing Yoongi’s mouth once he let go of your lip. Your kiss was heated, deep, full of tongue and little moans that grew louder and louder as you started to rock your hips back and forward, dragging your core on Yoongi’s erection, making it feel harder and harder with every slow sway of your hips.
Yoongi’s hands were moving up and down your legs, slipping under your dress and growing bolder as you pushed into his hands when they settled on your ass. He squeezed the flesh, fingertips dragging on the tiny material that felt like lace under his touch.
His hips flexed up at the same time that you pressed down and the pressure on your core must have felt good, for you to throw your head back with closed eyes and parted lips. Yoongi took that as an invitation to kiss down your jaw, covering your throat in kisses, choosing a spot at the side of your neck to latch on.
“Yes, babe–” you breathed out, a hand slipping into his hair as if you were trying to keep him there.
“Mine.” he growled against your skin.
Yoongi licked your neck, as if preparing the skin to take his mark, sucking on the soft patch once he deemed it warm enough. Yoongi suckled hard enough to hurt, but you were lighting up with the sting, skin blooming with a red and purple bruise.
“All yours.” you nodded breathlessly, moaning as your hips never settled.
With one arm around your waist, Yoongi trailed kisses on the length of your shoulder, knocking the tiny strap of your sundress down. Your movement made Yoongi pull back a little to watch you push the other strap of your dress down, looking at him with an inviting bite on your bottom lip.
He was looking at you, gaze boring into yours, as his hands moved from under your dress to climb up your ribs to touch your breasts. They felt so full and soft and perfect as he squeezed both on each palm, your lips falling open with a sigh as he pulled the top of your dress down.
Your breasts spilled free and Yoongi groaned, looking at your pretty, perky and pebbled nipples, shade a little darker than your own skin.
“My eyes are up here.” you giggled, but you weren’t able to mask your nervousness.
“Mhm, and I love them too.” Yoongi nodded, but his gaze stayed where they were, watching the mounds of your breasts move as he cupped them both, rolling your nipples with his thumbs. You gasped and whined, which prompted the question: “Sensitive?”
“Guess so.” you nodded shyly, nails scraping at his scalp. “My own hands never really did much, but guess your fingers–ooh.”
You gasped, closing your eyes as Yoongi watched your face contort in pleasure as he pinched your nipples between his pointer fingers and thumbs.
“My fingers?” he probed, just to hear more of your shaky tone.
“I love them.” you mewled. “You have really sexy hands, did you know?”
Yoongi chuckled, not thinking much as he said: “Yeah, I’ve been told.”
Your grasp on his hair tightened as you stared at him right in the eye, lines between your eyebrows as you frowned.
“Only I can have them now.” you stated with a hint of possessiveness that made Yoongi shiver. “Just so you know.”
“I know, doll.” he told you so with a little chuckle that didn’t last long as his mouth met the heated skin of your collar bones.
“Yeah?” you whined, squeezing his hair between your fingers.
“Mhm, I’m all yours.” he told you in hopes of quelling your worries, even though your jealousy was hot. “And you’re all mine.”
You whispered a tiny ‘okay’ that turned into a moan as Yoongi kissed his way to your breasts, choosing a nipple to latch on. His lips wrapped around the bud and he sucked it into his mouth, dragging his tongue around it to hear you make more of those delicious sounds, just for him.
Pushing your chest harder against his face, you resumed the rocking of your hips, making him groan around your nipple, pulling off of it with a pop. As Yoongi switched to repeat the same treatment with your other nipple, you started to unbutton his shirt, button by button, getting a little worked up when your trembling fingers took longer to pop one open.
“Can you lay down for me?” Yoongi asked as his kisses changed direction and his hands squeezed your hips.
“Are we really doing this?” you asked with a nibble on your bottom lip, which made Yoongi pause.
“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”
“No, no, I do, just… Don’t want you to think I asked to be your girlfriend so I could get in your pants.” you reasoned, making him laugh.
“Shouldn’t I be telling you that?” he mused. “You’ve been in my pants, baby.”
“Ahh, yeah, okay.” you giggled sweetly, moving off of his lap to keel on your bed.
“Cute.”
Yoongi was smiling like a fool in love as he moved to give you space to lay on your pillows, in the middle of your bed. While he pushed his shirt off his arms and let it fall on the floor, you pulled your sundress off the rest of the way. Yoongi’s breath got caught as he looked at you like that, for the first time, only a flimsy pair of panties on, which you removed even before you laid down for him.
He wanted to tell you that you were absolutely perfect, gorgeous all over, but the way you spread your legs for him, as your hands rested on your lower stomach, lip worried between your teeth, Yoongi didn’t know any words anymore.
Except maybe ‘want’ and ‘now’.
Yoongi was lowering himself between your legs, laying on his stomach as he kissed your inner thighs, sucking on the signs of your arousal that he found there. You smelled so good and looked so wet that he couldn’t resist bringing two of his fingers to your pussy, spreading your lips so he could see all of you.
You mewled as your back arched off the mattress, spreading your legs even wider for him.
“You’re so tight, baby.” he teased as the tips of his fingers circled your little entrance, watching as it clenched at his words. “How am I ever going to fit here, hm?”
“Been wondering the same thing, if I’m honest–” you chuckled breathlessly, hands falling to grab onto the comforter under you.
“I’ll be gentle.” Yoongi told you as his middle finger pushed deeper inside you, just the tip, pulling it out to bring it to your clit. “Stretch you nice and slow at first.”
“Yoongi–” you moaned as he flicked your bundle of nerves.
“Gonna have to fuck you over and over again, so your body understands you’re mine.” he told you so, fingers touching you all over as his lips met your lower ones. “That okay with you, doll?”
“Mhmm, so okay.”
Yoongi’s fingers dragged down to your clenching hole again and stayed there, teasing your entrance, collecting more of your wetness, pushing in slowly but retrieving whenever your moaning became pained. Yoongi didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted you to feel nothing but pleasure and love.
The flat of his tongue met your clit, lapping slowly and repetitively, until your moans became those of enjoyment. Once he was sure you were relaxed and content, Yoongi pushed the fingers into you again. He could feel your walls stretch to accommodate the digits, cock complaining inside his pants for being so constricted as all he wanted was to be buried inside you.
The more he sucked on your clit, the more you moaned and moved your hips in little circles, pushing his fingers deeper and deeper inside you. You were growing wetter and wetter and Yoongi was swallowing every sweet drop you gave him.
“How do you feel?” he asked quietly, between rubs of your clit with the tip of his tongue.
“Doesn’t hurt as much anymore… Better than I thought.” you told him with a little whine. “Want more, babe.”
“Yeah? Think you’re ready for me?”
“Born ready!” you chirped with a little drunk giggle and the nodding of your head. “Please fuck me.”
Yoongi hummed and left one last kiss against your clit, which made you squirm and squeal. He pulled his fingers out of you slowly, scissoring them apart for good measure, to stretch you around them so you could take his cock.
You moved up a little on your pillows, from where you had slipped down with all your squirming, attentive eyes watching all of him, making him grow a little shy. Yoongi could read the desire in your eyes, you wanted him as bad as he wanted you and it was making him fluster a little, neck and chest feeling a little hot.
As he pulled his wallet from his back pocket you asked: “Are you buying anything right now?”
“I’m getting a condom, doll.” Yoongi laughed at your wide eyes as you understood.
“We don’t need one.” you told him while sitting up to touch his stomach and chest, kissing his lower belly as your hands got to work on his belt and button. “I’ve been on the pill since we started this.”
“A–are you sure?” his stammering was what made you giggle no doubt.
With your little nod, Yoongi let his wallet drop to the floor where his shirt lay discarded and helped you push his pants and underwear off in one go, baring himself to you just as you were to him. You smiled sweetly and playfully licked at his tip, sending a rocking shiver all over his body.
“Jesus–” he hissed, taking a finger under your chin to make you look at him. “Lay down.”
“Be gentle.” you begged with a pout, which Yoongi kissed. “Go slow.” another kiss, one that became a dragged moan as your hand wrapped around his shaft. “And make me cum all over your big cock–”
“Okay, lay down, now.”
Your giggle was high pitched as Yoongi pinched your sides and had you squirming away from him to lay down on the bed. The man pushed your knees apart so he could lay on top of you, between your legs, heavy, painfully hard cock resting between your warm and slippery folds, making you both moan.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, nails and fingertips dragging up and down his back as he pulled you into a kiss. Yoongi kissed you slowly, deeply, full of passion and want and need. Your lips moved together as your tongues clashed with one another, breaths fanning each other’s faces.
When you started to move your hips back and forth, rubbing yourself on his cock, Yoongi moaned into your lips and you took his bottom one into your mouth to suck on and drag between your teeth.
His hand ventured between your bodies to stroke his cock a few times, teasing himself, pumping him to make him drip beads of pre-cum on your lips. He brushed the tip between your folds to open you up to him, leading his cock to your entrance. You started breathing harshly, so Yoongi kissed your cheek and jaw to relax you, whispering praises that made you calm down.
“I promise it won’t hurt as much as you expect it to.” he told you and you hit him with a snort that screamed ‘how would you know?’ which made him bite back a little smile. “I’ll be careful. You’ll be begging me to fuck you harder in no time.”
“Fuck, okay, I like that.” you writhed under him as he pressed his thumb to your clit to distract you from the sting as he pushed his cock into you, just the tip, breaching you for the very first time. “Shit, that’s– a lot.”
“Just breathe, you’re doing so well…”
Yoongi was holding himself up with an arm, chest pressed against yours, your body so small in comparison to his. Your small hands were on each side of his neck, your lips pressed against the side of his face as you let out the prettiest little sounds.
He was gentle with you, just as he promised, allowing you to get used to him, while holding back from taking you as he wanted. You felt so warm and so fucking tight, wet as slippery as he pushed in little by little, listening to your moans and stopping whenever you showed any signs of discomfort.
Yoongi could feel you clenching around him as his cock throbbed inside you and he made the mistake to look down, where your bodies met, and he saw the way your cunt was swallowing him, swollen clit and puffy lips.
“You’re amazing.” he told you as an afterthought.
“Pretty sure you’re doing all the work–” you managed to croak out.
“I’m sorry it hurts, baby.” he leaned down to kiss the frown between your brows, the pout on your lips.
“It feels good.” you whispered against his lips as they found yours. “Just feel so full, but it’s nice.”
“Yeah? Can I move a little?”
“Mhmm, you can.”
With desperation, you parted your mouth to take Yoongi’s lips and he kissed you back, the hand between the two of you easily finding your clit to rub it in small circles as his hips pulled out and then fucked him back in, making you cry out. The more you moaned, the more he rolled your clit to distract you and little by little you opened up to him, making the slide in and out a little easier.
Soon he couldn’t see any traces of pain in your pretty face, and that’s when he started to let go of his own restraints, starting to fuck you in a quicker pace that would catapult him into a different dimension with how hard you were squeezing him and how deep your nails were sinking in on his skin.
Your body was rocking with each fuller thrust and harsher pace, little cries of yes, yes, yes! letting him know that it was okay and you could take it.
“You feel so good, baby–” his voice was broken as his hips snapped back and forward. “I didn’t think anything could be better than your mouth, but–”
“Good to know you liked my blowjob so much.” you bantered, a dopey smile on your lips. “I can suck you off anytime you–fuck, Yoongi!”
Instead of fucking in and out of you, Yoongi tentatively rolled his hips, pressing deeper and harder, and you seemed to like that, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close to you.
“Like this?” he gruffed next to your ear.
“Yeah, right there–oh my god, the fuck is that–”
Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh as his cock started to repetitively hit your g-spot with each new shallow thrust that was still enough to make you bounce under him, some so strong that it made the little ghosts on the headboard shake.
“I’m gonna cum, babe, please–!”
You warned but he already knew it. Could feel you squeeze him impossibly tight, walls milking him for his own release, but he wouldn’t get there before you did. His thumb rolled your clit in quick figure eight movements, despite the tight fit for his arm between the two of you, as his hips pulled almost all the way out, only to snap back in and roll against yours.
The noises of the creaking bed under your combined weights and the skin slapping against skin only lost to your loud yelp as you let go and your orgasm washed over you. Yoongi’s mouth latched onto your nipple to suck and you trembled all over, twitching with the aftershocks as your climax lasted and lasted.
Your cunt was clamping so tight, sucking him in so strongly that Yoongi couldn’t even pull out of you, he just stayed there, letting your pussy milk his orgasm out of him. You both moaned together, bodies sticking with sweat, hugging each other for dear life as Yoongi filled you up.
As your breathing calmed down, Yoongi stayed close to you, peppering kisses all over your face.
“I love you.” he finally told you, hearing your tiny chuckle of bliss.
“I know.”
“Do you, now?” he laughed, pulling out of you slowly to fall onto the bed next to you, trying not to crush you with his weight.
“Mhm. You wouldn’t fuck me this good if you didn’t.” you grinned, trying to mask a wince as you were empty again, legs closing shut to keep his mess inside.
“You’d be surprised.” Yoongi joked, which earned him a slap to the chest.
“Stop making me jealous!” you whined, but couldn’t hold onto your pout as you laughed.
“I didn’t know you were so jealous, doll.”
Yoongi got up from your bed, not bothering to put his clothes back on as he left your room to walk into your bathroom. There he found more makeup bits, perfumes he knew well, and a vampire soap dispenser that made him laugh.
“You have no idea how many times I had to tell Kai you were straight.” you were saying as Yoongi looked through your cabinet to grab a clean towel, almost hitting his head on the marble top as he heard you.
“Wait, what?”
Once the small tower was wet, and his dick was properly clean, he made it back to your room to find your abashed little smile.
“You know Kai, the guy from our coffee shop?” you said as if it should be obvious. “He keeps hitting on you, but you’re always clueless. So he keeps asking me what’s your deal and I always tell him you don’t like boys.”
“You’re kinda right, I just like you.”
Yoongi couldn’t help but be amused about this new development, but as long as Kai was into him, Yoongi wouldn’t have to worry he might be into you. And it offered many opportunities for him to make you a little jealous, maybe a little more possessive over him.
Not that you ever had anything to worry about, as far as Yoongi was concerned, he’d belong to you for as long as you wanted him.
He got back to the bed and helped you pry your legs open, just so he could clean the mess the two of you had made together, both choosing to stay naked as you pulled him back to lay down next to you.
You were laying on his chest as you said:
“That was so good, Yoon.”
“Yeah?” he squeezed you a little tighter against his chest, lips pressing to the crown of your head. “Better than the pie?”
“The pie!”
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Summary: Maybe tasting everything his soulmate eats wouldn’t be so bad if Yoongi’s soulmate didn’t have the largest sweet tooth Ever. Maybe you wouldn’t need to sweeten everything if he didn’t drink his coffee so bitter.
- In a world where some people don’t get to see certain colors until they meet their soulmates, you know that you shouldn’t really complain about your soulmate system.
- But somehow the taste of something else echoing on your tongue from deep within that long lost part of you- from someone else- is pretty annoying.
- The taste of coffee at all hours of the day blossoming on your tongue from a mouth that isn’t yours makes you annoyed at the best of times
- At the worst of times, you find yourself piling sugar into your caramel macchiato making it as sweet as possible in retaliation. Your war against the bitterness on your tongue- against your soulmate.
- Who even likes black coffee? no one with any taste and that’s for sure. Only Unhappy middle-aged men like Americanos and you are not ending up with a grandpa even if they are your soulmate.
- That’s your soulmate system- you share taste buds with your soulmate and taste the reverberated echoes of their mouth at all hours of the day- though it’s mostly coffee- coffee at 2 am or 2 pm it doesn’t matter. You find yourself wondering if your soulmate even sleeps when You wake up to bitterness.
- Besides the ever-present taste of coffee in your mouth at all hours of the day, there isn’t much to go on to help you find your soulmate.
→ Summary: For the past three years, Kim Taehyung has made it his mission to annoy you relentlessly on campus, finding every possible way to drive you up the wall during your shared classes. However, as you both enter your senior year, something strange happens. Taehyung begins to sense a shift in his energy, realizing he might just have some secret feelings for you. What unfolds when you make this earth-shattering discovery too?
↠ taehyung x f.reader | 8.6k words | 18+
↠ genre: smut, humor, college au, enemies to lovers, fratboy!bangtan
→ Warnings: explicit & unprotected sex, consensual drunk sex, shower sex, ‘revenge’ sex (all fun and games), alcohol consumption, party crashed by police, dirty talk, soft kissing, rough kissing, hard dom!taehyung, soft dom!taehyung, grinding, fingering, sloppy oral sex, cock swallowing, choking on tae’s cock, throat fucking, slight praising, begging, sense of ownership, size kink, taehyung has a huge dong, belly bulge, reader gets dicked down almost too good (if that’s a thing), breast & nipple play, riding, reversal, biting, teasing, cockwarming, creampie, cum play, cum eating, cum stuffing, spanking, choking ft. tae’s beautiful hands, pussy slapping, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, multiple sex scenes
→ Author note: Inspired by this popular post!! If you’d like to read this on ao3 instead it’s been crossposted here! As always, all likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated <3
“This is wrong. This is so wrong.” He moans after pushing you up against his closed bedroom door, “Are you sure? Are you drunk?” You roll your eyes.
“Stop trying to talk me out of this,” you whisper while leaving wet kisses along his jawline. You’ve waited too long. There’s no way in hell you’re stopping now. Lifting your head up and looking into his eyes, you continue, “I didn’t drink that much. I want this. I want you.”
He groans and presses his lips into yours yet again. “I swear this wasn’t my intention,” he says after pulling back.
You kiss him hard, but your quick attempt to shut him up doesn’t work.
“I promise it wasn’t,” he blurts, “I was just being honest, you know the rules of the game.” He pulls you close again as his lips flutter around your neck, causing an airy sigh to escape from your parted ones.
“No more talking. Please.” You pull his face back up and let his lips harshly reattach to yours. He proceeds to kiss you, slowing down when you try to speed things up.
“I just need you to know that I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he repeats.
“Taehyung!” You whine as your eyes tell him to stop worrying about it, “Shut up and kiss me.”
“I need to hear you say it. I need to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
You pull back slightly from his embrace to tug your shirt off, “Tae please,“ you beg between kisses, the slick from your heat seeping through your thin underwear, "Just fuck me already.”
Earlier that day…
“Taehyung! You asshole!” you holler while chasing after the guy who’s currently running along the sidewalk with your history paper in hand.
You finally catch up to him by the fountain that sits at the campus’s center, watching him nervously as he jokes around, holding the most important five thousand words you’ve ever written.
“I will kill you if you get a single drop of water on that! It’s due in ten minutes!” you threaten as he tosses the stapled paper between his hands. “Taehyung, please. I was up all night writing this. It’s worth forty percent of my grade,” you beg, really hoping he’ll take a step down before anything bad happens.
“Quit freaking out, I’m not going-” his words are short-lived as a gust of wind steals the paper from his loose grip. You both watch, completely horrified, as it flutters through the air in slow motion and falls directly down into the clear water.
“Oh no. No no no. Oh my god. I swear to god that wasn’t supposed to happen! I was just teasing!” Taehyung panics as he jumps through the fountain, slipping and thoroughly soaking himself further as rushes over to your sunken assignment. He wipes away the water on his face and retrieves the soggy paper lying on the vibrant tile below. Drops of ink run off the paper, smearing the barely legible words even more.
You feel as though you've momentarily forgotten how to breathe.
“Okay. It’s okay,” you say to yourself, trying to calm down, “Everything’s fine. It’s fine. I can just head back to the library and reprint it, I’d rather be a few minutes late for class than get a zero on this.”
“Uh, hmmm, yeah…” Taehyung clears his throat nervously, scratching the back of his neck while doing so. “About that…”
“Don’t say it,” you threaten anxiously. You internally beg that what you assume he’s going to say next is not true. It can’t be. You will it not to be.
“The library closed twenty minutes ago. It always closes early on Thursdays and Fridays,” He says sheepishly with a face full of remorse, though you doubt he actually feels it.
“Great,” you huff, “That’s just fucking great.” The calmness dissipates as rage takes over your body. “I honestly cannot believe you sometimes. Will you ever grow the fuck up? We’re not freshmen anymore! You can’t just dick around like this. Wrecking each others’ projects was funny three years ago when our grades didn’t matter but we can’t keep doing this. Just-” you take a deep breath to regain some of your calmness, “Get. The fuck. Away from me.” You rip your destroyed paper out of his hands and storm off in the direction of the building where your class is held.
Maybe that was a little rude. Actually, no, it wasn’t. He deserved it. He ruined your history paper. Intentionally, too.
“I’m coming with you, I’ll explain what happened,” Taehyung persists, somehow keeping up with your angry stomps as you head to class.
“Quit following me, I’m screwed enough as it is,” you grumble, knowing that he’s trudging along behind you even without turning around to confirm it.
His footsteps slow once you reach the outside of the history department.
Maybe he finally got the message.
“Ahhh, Miss Y/N. You’re late,” your professor says as you enter the quiet classroom and try to make your way to your empty assigned seat. He stops you before you can sit, “Do you have your paper ready to turn in?”
You shamefully drop what’s left of your paper into your professors’ hands.
“Is this your submission?” he asks, holding it up with his fingers, watching as the remaining water droplets fall to the floor. Your classmates snicker as they watch the scene in front of them unfold.
Yet, just as you're about to respond, the classroom door violently swings open, instantly capturing everyone's attention in unison.
“It’s my fault,” Taehyung pants after barging in.
“Excuse me, sir, who are you? And why are you dripping in my lecture?”
“What the hell are you doing here?” you quietly seethe.
“I considered heading to my class but I just felt too bad,” he says to you before turning to your professor. “It’s my fault her paper is soaked, I mean look at me. I am too. After an unfortunate turn of events - events that neither of us anticipated - it fell in the fountain and so did I. But you can see that…because I’m wet. Wet like water wet, not like the other kind of wet. That would be weird, considering… But probably more awkward than anything though. If I’m being honest. You know, my mother taught me that honesty is the best policy. So that’s what I’m doing here. Being honest…about me…and her paper, being, uh, you know, wet…”
It's unclear who is more astonished, you or your professor. Is this really happening right now? You’ve never heard Taehyung ramble like this. If you weren’t so stunned or feeling secondhand embarrassment for him, you would’ve probably laughed hysterically.
The older man gives Taehyung a once over, his eyes peering over his reading glasses as they travel up and down the damp clothes stuck to the twenty-something’s figure. Displeased, he turns to look at the disintegrating mess of your so-called paper that’s stuck between his fingers.
“Haha, yeah…so uh, I’m gonna go now,” Taehyung says as he finger guns to the door before anyone else can get a word in, “I hope this is resolved. And um, I’m going to make sure I never sign up for one of your classes, Mr. uh, I don’t know your name. But that doesn’t matter. Trust me when I say you won’t ever have to see me again.” And with that, he exits the class with the same amount of speed as he entered.
Your professor shakes his head in disbelief. “Email me your paper once you get seated and I’ll only dock you ten percent off from your original grade, as long as you promise that won’t ever happen again.”
“Deal.”
“He did what?” your roommate’s voice echoes from inside her bedroom as she makes her way into the kitchen where you’re reheating leftovers for dinner.
“I know! I could’ve killed him. I don’t know what it is lately, but he’s been irritating me more than usual. The way he just went on and on, rambling like a complete idiot. Ugh!” you mutter while waiting for the microwave to beep. The whole situation still has you mildly irate.
Sana gives you a pointed look.
“What?” you squint your eyes at her, “What does that face mean?”
“When are you two going to realize that you’re like, in love with each other? It’s always Taehyung did this or you did that. FYI, we’re all tired of hearing about it. Girl, I adore you and your little rants most of the time, but it’s exhausting listening to you two complain about each other literally all the time. We’re in the same friend group and it’s just so obvious to us all that you guys like each other, but are just stubbornly ignoring the facts that are so obviously right in front of you.”
“I’m going to pretend like you didn’t just say that. Dinner is done,” you say, brushing aside what you just heard. It’s too crazy to even think about.
You liking Taehyung? Taehyung liking you? Absolutely not. No way! That’s ridiculous, that’s just…almost crazy enough to be true.
The thought surprises you.
Sure, Taehyung is nice to look at. You’ve never questioned his attractiveness. But you drew the line a long time ago, knowing better than to allow yourself to grow any form of attachment to the guy who prefers to drive you batshit crazy.
It’s just easier that way. Yeah, sure, playing around and pissing each other off gives you some kind of satisfaction, but you don’t need him in your life. He isn’t that significant.
Or is he?
The more you think about it, the harder a time you have imagining your life without the messy-haired asshole who you’ve somehow grown to…love?
“Whatever, give me a bowl,” Sana says, pulling you from your thoughts before you’re able to dwell on the ‘L’ word very much. “I’m starving. And we need to eat quickly so we have enough time to get ready.”
“Oh, fuck me sideways,” you moan, annoyed with yourself for forgetting, “It’s Thursday.”
Sana’s boyfriend’s fraternity hosts a party every other Thursday night. There’s no way you’re getting out of it either, seeing as you promised her two weekends ago you’d go to the next since you bailed.
“Uh-uh! Don’t even start,” Sana warns. “You’re coming tonight whether you want to or not!”
A frat party is the worst kind of party in your opinion. Memories of the last one you attended float around your mind; wannabee rappers holding their phones by your ear so you can hear their ‘latest diss track’, girls arguing over a guy who doesn’t deserve either in your opinion, drunk couples practically fucking on the couch.
Oh, don’t forget about the pick me girl begging for attention or that guy who gets so fucking obnoxious and is willing to start a fistfight with anyone within an arm's distance. And lastly, the typical fuckboy that will say anything to get you into his bed. Yeah, frat parties are so not your thing.
But you promised Sana, and she’d hold it against you until the end of time if you didn’t go tonight.
You made a plan anyway. Show up, say hi to a few friends, have a few drinks, and disappear before anyone can notice you’ve made a run for it. Fingers crossed that you can pull it off.
The party is in full swing when you arrive, or so you are assuming since you had to step over someone passed out on the lawn on your way toward the front steps. The door is wide open, and Sana immediately spots her boyfriend Joon from across the room. His face lights up when he notices her waving dramatically and makes his way over to you two.
“She actually came? In the flesh? Y/N, is that really you?” Namjoon teases, obviously not expecting you to make an appearance.
“Hi, Joon. Good to see you too.”
“I was surprised, she didn’t even put up a fight about it tonight.” Sana giggles as soon as Joon pulls her into his arms for a sloppy kiss. You look away and scan the room, searching through the crowd of familiar yet vague faces.
“Sana! Get a room, girl!” one of them hollers, cheering her on as she shoves her tongue down her boyfriend’s throat.
She pulls back and flips off Yoongi, the culprit and one of Joon’s frat brothers, and walks further into the house, scanning the audience for tonight.
“Hey, think you could bring some of your single friends over? Preferably a random group of them with one specific person we all have in our mind. She needs to go home with a guy tonight,” she says to Yoongi as he walks over with drinks in hand for you and Sana.
Everyone seems to understand what she’s saying, other than you, who of course is oblivious yet again as to who they’re referencing.
“I heard you had a rough day,” Yoongi says, handing you one of the plastic cups with a sideways grin as you give Sana an agitated look after smacking her on the arm. But she doesn’t seem to acknowledge either and instead, smirks at Yoongi’s remark. “I have a certain person in mind. Let me see if I can find where he ran off too.”
Joon laughs knowing all too well what happened, "We’ll do our best, see you in a few.”
"Oh my god, Sana! I can’t believe you sometimes,” you whine after the guys are out of earshot.
"What? It’s not like I’m wrong! You need a good time tonight just to relax. You don’t have any Friday classes anyway so have some fun.” She shrugs her shoulders and walks away to say hi to some of her other girlfriends.
While she’s gone and the guys are hunting, you spot Taehyung leaning up against a bookshelf filled with novels you bet haven’t been touched in decades. You try your hardest to weave your way through the crowded area before he can notice you, but unfortunately, your eyes lock with his just as you’re squeezing through a group of girls you’ve never seen before. Freshmen, probably.
“What are you doing here?” you question, not even attempting to hide the annoyed tone in your voice when you feel his presence behind you.
“What do you mean, ’What am I doing here?’ I live here. What are you doing here? I thought you hated these sorts of things.”
"You live here?” you ask, ignoring his question as your head whips around. “I didn’t know you were in the same fraternity as Namjoon.”
“I didn’t know you didn’t know. Sorry?” He laughs as you take the last sip of your mystery drink. “Need another? I’m heading to the kitchen.”
“Uh, whatever you’re having,” you say. Alcohol is alcohol.
“Sure thing. Oh hey, Sana! Where’s Joon?” Taehyung asks, acknowledging that your sidekick returned, but without her significant other.
“Hey Tae, he’s in the Blue Room. Which is where I must drag you to,” she smiles devilishly, grabbing your arm to pull you away. Though unbeknownst to her, you would gladly go anywhere that’s away from Taehyung right now.
“Ahhh, is it already time?” he wonders out loud. “I’ll meet you there,” he says and leaves for the kitchen to grab drinks.
As you’re being pulled away, the only thought parading through your mind is how much you want to rip his head off for the stunt he pulled earlier, but also the multiple ways you can get your revenge on him for costing you ten percent on a paper that would have otherwise been an A+.
Sana pulls you into the second living room, the Blue Room as it’s ‘famously’ known for its somewhat derogatory, yet exclusive, activities. If you could call them that.
Only those invited are allowed to enter. You’re not sure why, but the guys take their rule pretty seriously.
You recognize nearly all of the people already in here, the majority being Namjoon’s frat brothers;
Seokjin; the one that’s always surrounded by both girls and guys. His presence easily fills the room and even without saying a single word he demands their attention.
Yoongi; the one that loves to start shit and can smell drama and sexual tension from a mile away. He knows how to push the right buttons to hear precisely what he wants.
Hoseok; the one who is always smirking about something that no one else seems to know. Not really a gossiper, but definitely knows everything about everyone.
Namjoon; the guy who everyone respects but still teases for being totally whipped for Sana. He’s a softie but can still kick anyone’s ass in mere seconds.
Jimin; the sweet one with a dark side you never want to get on. You’ve heard stories that will haunt you for a while.
And finally, Jungkook; the one who never knows what’s going on but is having a great time regardless. A happy dork who can make you laugh no matter what.
Somehow Taehyung fits into this group too, but you don’t know exactly where he stands yet.
The rest of the room consists of girls you’ve seen around campus and guys attempting to gain Seokjin’s total attention but would probably never get it. Although there are a handful of faces you haven’t seen before, which is refreshing.
It looks like everyone is getting ready to play Ten out of Ten, which is basically a drinking game to initiate party hookups, a ‘how much do you like me’ sort of thing.
To play, everyone in the room writes their name on a little piece of paper and it gets thrown into a bowl. The bowl then gets passed around and each person draws a name out of the bowl, but can’t look at the name until it’s their turn. One person starts and says the name on the paper they pulled and then rates the person a number out of ten if they would sleep with them or not. So then the person whose name was called would go next, and say who they have and rate them. Like a chain game, and you just have to say a number out of ten if you would bang them or not. It’s not really supposed to be a drinking game but somehow it’s become a tradition to take a shot after you say your rating, and especially if someone says ten out of ten - then everyone takes a shot.
Sana grabs two slips of paper and hands one to you. You write your name and hand the pen to her. ‘So much for a couple of drinks and dipping,’ you say internally, realizing that the game will last a while with this many participants. Hopefully, Taehyung remembers your drink. You’re going to need it.
You sigh and sit on the arm of the chair Sana is in as you wait for the game to start.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Taehyung walking towards you with, thank god, a rather large cup in his hand.
“I hope this satisfies your alcoholic needs,” he jokes, “I made it the same way as mine, but with a little less alcohol since I didn’t want to fuck you up a lot."
You take it from him and raise the cup to your mouth. The scent is strong, and your eyes twitch after taking a small sip. He laughs at your quiet sputtering.
“I’ll be good after it hits me. Thanks.”
"Yeah, sure. No problem. And sorry about earlier, again. I know you’ll get me back soon enough and it will be well deserved,” He grins before walking over to sit next to Jungkook.
“Alright, alright.” Jimin starts as he walks around the room with the bowl in his hands, letting everyone grab a piece of paper while he goes over the rules for the newbies invited. The bowl makes its way around the room, and everyone tosses in theirs before Jimin shakes it up and starts letting people pull out a folded piece of paper.
Once everyone has one, he sets the bowl aside, “Everyone ready?”
“Wait, I didn’t get one,” Taehyung says looking around, somewhat confused and a little suspicious. Something’s going on. He just doesn’t know what exactly.
“Oh I didn’t know you were back already, this is the last one,” Jimin says, handing him a name slip, failing to hide the evil grin on his face. “Okay, let’s get this started!”
About ten minutes into the game, you are already feeling the buzz. Whatever Taehyung gave you is pretty damn good now that you’re drunk enough to not taste the alcohol. Meaning, you’re drinking more than you’re paying attention to the game.
Needless to say, you’re a little spaced out until you hear someone say your name. You look up and make eye contact with Taehyung from across the room.
He chuckles awkwardly and sits up. “Of course,” he mutters under his breath, not-so-silently cursing Jimin at the same time.
Taehyung has my name?
“Oh, please go on. We can’t wait to hear what you have to share,” Joon grins as Taehyung responds with a death glare.
The room goes silent in anticipation of what he’s going to say, especially your shared friends. They’re watching very intently as Taehyung takes a swig of his drink and curses again.
“Ten out of ten would bang,” he announces, pausing for a quick moment to take a shot along with everyone else, but you. You’re too awe and unable to do anything but gawk at him as he continues.
“But also ten out of ten would care for you afterward, ten out of ten would let you stay over, ten out of ten would tuck you in, ten out of ten would cuddle the shit outta you in bed, ten out of ten would make sure you fall asleep okay, and ten out of ten would make you breakfast in the morning.”
You’re sure you look crazy with your eyes popping out and your jaw nearly on the floor. Everyone else’s reaction pretty much mirrors yours. Everyone except Sana who is squealing like crazy next to you. A few of the girls glare at you as the guys whoop and holler.
You’re unsure how you feel about what just happened. If it even happened. Or if you somehow hallucinated the whole thing.
Did Taehyung just confess? Does that even count as a confession? Or was he just playing along with the game? Did the room get smaller? Why the hell is it so hot in here?
You take a deep breath, remembering that everyone’s eyes are still on you since it’s your turn, and yet you’re frozen in your spot.
Do they expect you to say something before you take your turn? Do you even want to say anything? Maybe he was joking, maybe you could laugh it off. Or maybe he meant it… What if he meant it?
You fiddle with the piece of paper between your fingers before deciding to unfold it and get on with it so you can get the hell out of this small room.
“Um. Woojin, six out of ten,” you spit out as quickly as you can and immediately get up to leave. You don’t even know where you are going, just following where your feet are taking you.
You have two options; you can either leave and face the wrath of Sana when she comes home - if she comes home - or you can hide somewhere until you can come up with a better plan while you attempt to sober up. The latter is what your subconscious goes with as your body stumbles upstairs to find an unoccupied bedroom to hide out in.
The first one was not locked but definitely should have been. Thankfully you didn’t see too much of the two who you found in a compromising position, and thankfully they probably won’t remember the incident in the morning either.
Fortunately, the next room you barge into is free. After shutting the door, you lean up against it and close your eyes while you focus on your breathing. Your heart is still racing as you try to not think about what happened downstairs.
Feeling calmed down enough, you open your eyes and look around. The first thing that catches your eye is the band posters that cover the wall. Everything from Sinatra and Dean Martin, to The Doors and The Rolling Stones, to Bad Omens and Bring Me The Horizon.
Whoever this room belongs to has good taste. For being a boy's room, it’s pretty clean too. Yeah, there are clothes spewn here and there, but it isn’t any worse than the state that you left your own room in.
Sighing, you sit on the edge of the bed and cover your face with your hands.
What now?
"Yeah, sorry to ruin your moment or whatever, but my room is off-limits. If you’re gonna puke or pass out I’d rather you find somewhere else to do it.”
You lift your head to see the one and only person you did not expect to see in your current confused state standing in the doorway. “Taehyung.”
“Oh,” he says, “It’s you. How did you know this was my room?”
“I didn’t. I was hiding.” Shit, you weren’t supposed to say that.
“Oh…” he says again, shutting his door so the noise of the party lessens. He walks over to sit next to you on the bed, "I was looking for you. After you, uh, ran out.” He hesitates to see if you say anything. You don’t.
“Look,” he begins, “I don’t want to make things awkward. I know we’re friends. Sort of. When we’re not trying to murder each other and all that. But I’ve been into you for a while now and I just can’t hide it any longer. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to take you out sometime."
Once again, you’re gawking.
"Oh god, are you gonna puke or something?” His eyes are panicky as he looks around the room for something you can use in case you do.
“No! No, I just, ahh…” It’s now or never, “Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I am.”
"And did you mean what you said earlier?” You say, referring to his confession in The Blue Room. You try to hide how hard your heart is pounding inside your chest. Just as you would have to hide how hurt you’re going to be when he says the inevitable.
“Well…” He trails off, and you prepare for the worst.
He wasn’t serious, it was some kind of joke, you misheard him, there was another person with your name in the room-
“Hello? Are you sure you’re not going to puke? You look a little pale.”
“I’m fine, was it a lie, just for the game?” you say leaning towards his body, his inevitably doing the same. “Or were you being honest?”
“I was being one hundred percent honest. And I still am. I like you, a lot. As hard as that is for me to admit.” His hand grazes yours and rests on top of it. He was half expecting you to pull away and run out of the room but is more than happy to realize that isn’t the case. Maybe you feel something too. His eyes burn into yours as he awaits your response.
It’s hard for you to admit your feelings as well. If you weren’t both so perfectly stubborn and bull-headed, you might have made this conclusion a long time ago.
You hate to admit that. You hate being wrong.
But Taehyung doesn’t feel wrong to you. His hand on yours feels so…right.
"Good,” you sigh in relief, finally giving in to your heart. You lean in closer and lightly brush your lips against his, pulling back to gauge his reaction.
Taehyung’s breath hitches. The moment you pull away he hastily stands up and moves to his door, his back pressed flat against the wooden surface while the angel and devil on his shoulders argue.
Fuck, he wants you. But he knows you’ve been drinking. And he would never put you in this position and knows how much he would hate himself if you woke up the next day regretting your drunk self’s impulsive decision.
“Don’t do that to me, fuck. I won’t be able to resist. I want to take you out first. You deserve to be taken out on a date first,” he says, running his hands through his hair. You get up and walk towards him. “Several dates. Shit.”
“You still can. But, you know, after you fuck me*.*” Feeling confident, you take another step closer to him. And then another. Until you are pressed up against his chest, listening to his heartbeat as your lips hover over his neck. Finally, his hand grabs the side of your face, pulling you in before he unleashes his lips onto yours. Teeth, tongue, and all.
“This is wrong. This is so wrong.” He moans after pushing you up against his closed bedroom door, “Are you sure? Are you drunk?” You roll your eyes.
“Stop trying to talk me out of this,” you whisper while leaving wet kisses along his jawline. You’ve waited too long. There’s no way in hell you’re stopping now. Lifting your head and looking into his eyes, you continue, “I didn’t drink that much. I want this. I want you.”
He groans and presses his lips into yours yet again. “I swear this wasn’t my intention,” he says after pulling back.
You kiss him hard, but your quick attempt to shut him up doesn’t work.
“I promise it wasn’t,” he blurts, “I was just being honest, you know the rules of the game.” He pulls you close again as his lips flutter around your neck, causing an airy sigh to escape from your parted ones.
“No more talking. Please.” You pull his face back up and let his lips harshly reattach to yours. He proceeds to kiss you, slowing down when you try to speed things up.
“I just need you to know that I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he repeats.
“Taehyung!” You whine as your eyes tell him to stop worrying about it, “Shut up and kiss me.”
“I need to hear you say it. I need to make sure I’m not dreaming.”
You pull back slightly from his embrace to tug your shirt off, “Tae please,“ you beg between kisses, the slick from your heat seeping through your thin underwear, "Just fuck me already.”
And just like that, the switch in his mind flips.
Taehyung wastes no time lifting you, bringing your clothed center up against his. You moan into his mouth feeling his hardness pressing into you through his jeans.
Your senses tingle, from the way his hands are holding your jaw, how his scent encompasses you, the roughness of hips grinding against yours, and finally - from the way his kisses deepen with urgency as he carries you back over to his unmade bed.
Once there, he leans you down gently before hovering over your body, letting his hands run along your hips as they make their way to the front of your pants. His fingers tease the skin alongside the waistline of your checkered jeans as he frantically works to undo them, pulling them and your panties off simultaneously.
Your eyes meet as his hand slides slowly up the inside of your legs, right up to your center. One of your hands covers your mouth as his fingers weave their way through your dewy folds, and dive deep into your core.
He grins wolfishly as they curl with each small thrust into you, and soft mewls pour out from your parted mouth. “That’s it, let me hear you,” he praises as his fingers continue their divine torture.
“Oh my god, Tae,” you cry out, reaching for him as his fingers quicken. “Closer. I need you closer to me,” you pant, grabbing his shirt in the process and ripping it open, giggling unapologetically as you hear the small buttons hit the floor.
His lips close around your earlobe, sucking slightly as his fingers continue gliding in and out of you, “You owe me a new shirt.”
“Consider it payback for the fountain.”
“Payback, shmayback,” he grins while pressing his thumb up against your clit, pulling a gasp from you.
“Oh shut up already and put your mouth somewhere it matters,” you say slyly while non-so-subtly pushing his head down your torso until he understands your intention.
“Yes, ma’am,” he breathes before tasting you. His tongue sliding between your folds is nearly enough to send you spiraling. And as if it isn’t enough already, Taehyung reinserts two fingers into your heat as he laps at your delicate clit, bringing you closer and closer with each lick.
The taste of your sweet center has his rock-hard member twitching in anticipation, but he refuses to rush this. He wants nothing more than for you to come all over his face.
He deserves it.
You deserve it.
Soon enough you’re shaking from your very core as the waves rip through your body. Taehyung presses your hips down as he takes all your body has to offer him.
“Holy shit,” you pant, that was undeniably one of the best orgasms you’ve ever had.
He releases your center with a loud smacking sound and leaves delicate kisses on the inside of each of your thighs, admiring the goosebumps he causes on your velvety soft skin, before moving upward to reattach his lips to yours in a sweet, yet needy, embrace.
Taehyung wraps his arms around you to unclasp your bra while you catch your breath, giving special attention to the soft mounds now held in his hands. Your fingers twist through his hair as his tongue decides to flick one of your nipples before covering it entirely with his mouth. He swirls his tongue around them slowly and gently biting down just enough to hold the hardened nub between his teeth.
“Mmm, I want you,” he whispers, working to undo his own pants this time.
You breathe heavily, “I want-,” the rest of the words caught in your throat as you take in his length. You never expected him to be lacking in that area, but he definitely is larger than what you had anticipated.
“Like what you see?” he smirks, rather enjoying how you gape at him.
“Yes.”
Taehyung swallows hard; your honesty turns him on even more, if that’s possible.
“First things first,” he says, pulling away to grab a condom from his nightstand. You stop him.
“No, I want to feel you. All of you.”
He looks at you quizzically.
“I have an IUD, there’s nothing to worry about. Unless this is your way of telling me you’ve got…something?”
His eyes burn into yours, and he growls “No condom then,” quickly shutting down your question.
Grabbing your hips and holding them in place, Taehyung runs the head of his cock through your damp folds, then slaps your center with his throbbing tip, teasing you once more before he sinks deep into you without another thought.
Watching the way your lower stomach fills out as he pushes all the way into you only adds fuel to his fire. Right now, in this single instant, he owns you. And he’s going to make sure you know it.
Your fingernails dig into his biceps while he stretches you out in the most perfect way, gasping when he quickly removes himself and slams back into you.
“Oh fuck,” he moans, “You feel so good baby, so much better than I could have ever dreamed.”
You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him in deeper if it’s even possible. Taehyung shifts his weights and thrusts into you at a new angle, one that practically makes you see stars.
“Right there, yes. Yes!”
Biting into his shoulder when it becomes almost too much, you use your legs and push on his chest to flip him over so you’re on top, riding him at your own naughty pace.
Taehyung’s hands rest on your hips as you glide on top of him. His thrown-back head and mouthful of colorful words should be enough to prove how much he’s loving this, how much he’s loving you.
But as much as he adores watching your beautiful face twisting and turning with pleasure from below, and your perfect tits bouncing with each swift movement of your hips, he needs to be in charge right now before he loses his mind this early into the long night that awaits you both.
Whipping you around, he hovers over top of your backside and pulls your ass up against him. “Tell me you’ve never had better,” he demands while wrapping an arm around your waist as he pounds into you again from the new position. “Tell me how much you’ve needed me and my cock,” he growls into your ear with one hand moving up towards your neck.
Words are impossible at this point, your head is spinning with too many thoughts of how wonderful you feel and how hot he is in bed.
“Tell me!” he says again, gripping your neck tighter, his long fingers wrapping around your jawline.
“N-no one’s cock is better than yours,” you gasp, his pace picking with your obedience to answer just how he wanted. “No one’s,” you repeat, your eyes rolling back into your head as your insides start to coil.
He releases his hand from your neck and you forget about its whereabouts until there’s a sharp sting on your ass, that’s when you realize the sound that echoes through the room is from his hand cracking against your cheeks. “Mmm, again,” you beg, loving the after effects his spanks have on your body.
Taehyung doesn’t have to be told twice and marks you again, softly massaging the area where his red handprint remains afterward.
Your heated breaths blend as your bodies dance together on the edge, waiting to fall into perfect bliss. He flips you over one last time, wanting to face you as you come undone around him.
Taehyung leans over and nuzzles into your neck, letting his senses take over his body as he pulls you closer and closer toward white, hot pleasure.
“Oh my god!” you scream as the coil deep inside you finally snaps, sending electric sparks through your body.
Taehyung could have died and gone to heaven feeling your insides spasm and clench around him. He grits his teeth as he pumps his seed deep inside you.
His body weight falls on top of yours, energy totally spent.
You find yourself drifting off to the sound of his breathing that matches yours, and fall into a light slumber with your bodies still entwined.
The sound of sirens abruptly awakens you. Rubbing your heavy eyelids, the room flashes between red and blue as the police car lights shine through Taehyung’s second-story windows. You try to sit up but are pulled down by a heavy arm.
“Mmmm,” Taehyung mutters beside you, “Party’s crashed, it’ll quiet down again in a sec once everyone’s out.” His raspy voice tickles your neck and his hand slides down your side, resting on your hip.
A loud crashing sound followed by mumbling voices and footsteps moving outside his door wakes Taehyung up more.
“Everyone out besides residents. Time to go home!” an officer yells in the distance, and more footsteps echo as the house empties.
He sits up and listens, falling back down into bed next to you when he hears the familiar sound of the squad car door closing and driving off to find the next college party to bust.
Thinking it’s probably time to leave yourself, you reach for your shirt that’s hanging from the desk chair near his bed.
“What are you doing?”
“Isn’t it time for me to go?”
“No.” He leans on a bent arm, the other reaching for you to pull you back into his warm embrace. “Do you want to go?”
“No,” you breathe.
“Then stay,” he whispers before kissing you again.
The rest of your late night together is soft and sensual, filled with loving gazes, slow movements, and shallow panting as you lay together as one.
You find yourself getting lost in his touch, every nerve in your body blazes with pure passion this time.
Taehyung whispers your name and wraps your hands in his, pulling them up above your head.
Each roll of his hips draws silky moans from your parted lips. Heat radiates from where hands gently grip your thighs as you writhe beneath him.
You claw at his back, completely and utterly lost in the pleasure as you take the plunge into another mind-blowing orgasm.
He loves how your body reacts to his touch. He loves how you squeeze around his cock, quivering uncontrollably around him as he finds his own wonderful release.
He pushes into you once more before letting himself go. Your head swirls as he fills you with his seed, while your heart pounds to the same rhythm as his.
Taehyung’s pace slows as you tremble around him, he finds it hard to quit thrusting. He doesn’t want to forget this, doesn’t want to waste a moment where he’s not buried deep inside you.
You feel the same way, feeling full in more ways than one, and your heart flutters when you make this realization. Taehyung completes you.
Once his breath returns to its normal rate, he pulls out slowly and watches in admiration as his seed leaks out from your center, dripping between your folds.
He freezes with his eyes glued to the mess he created inside of you, wanting to burn this image into his memory forever.
Taehyung gives in to his sudden urge and uses the pad of his thumb to massage your sensitive heat. Sensually, he pushes the remaining cream back into you, wanting it to stay inside you forever.
He eventually lays back down and pulls you on top of him, the exhaustion starting to set in. His lips leave precious kisses along your cheeks, jawline, and neck before attaching to yours. He sighs contently and rests his hands on the curve of your lower back, satisfied with the way your body conforms perfectly against his.
You lay there, enjoying the blissful moment until you take in what just happened. You have no regrets, Taehyung was everything. But your head is still spinning as thoughts like ‘what does this mean’ and ‘where do we stand now’ float through your brain.
Your heart rate picks up as you start to feel a small sense of panic take over. You need to clear your head and clean yourself properly. A shower. That’ll help.
You’re sweaty, sticky, and still covered in a combination of yours and his cum, yet Taehyung refused to let you roll off of him, "Stay, you’re warm.”
“I’m gross, and I could use a shower,” you say, glancing at him, “if that’s okay…”
“Yeah, absolutely,” he nods as you move off of him. He gets up, presumably grabbing you some clothes. He digs around in his dresser before pulling out a pair of clean sweatpants and a t-shirt. “Here, and there’s the bathroom.” He says pointing to the door that’s to the left of the bed, “Make sure you lock the other door, it’s attached to Yoongi’s room. I’ll join you in a few.” There’s a sudden skip in your heart as you watch him slip his jeans back on and lean down to kiss your cheek. Biting down a creeping smile, you give him one final wave before leaving his room.
Taehyung heads downstairs to grab a glass of water. The party is long over now after the bust and he steps around empty cups scattered down the steps.
As he makes the turn into the kitchen and reaches for a glass, to say that he was surprised to be greeted by Jimin and his know-it-all face would be a straight-faced lie. Exhaling, he closes the cabinet door.
“Don’t even say it,” Taehyung warns. He has more important things to listen to than Jimin’s ‘I told you so’s’.
"Say what? I have no idea what you mean…” he smirks. “Okay I lied, I told you! I totally told you she was into you. You’re welcome by the way.”
It takes Taehyung a few seconds to comprehend where his friend is going with that.
“Oh my god! I should have known. You purposely gave me her piece of paper during the game!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Don’t you have someone waiting?”
“You think you’re so sneaky, don’t you?”
He grins coyly, “Maybe just a little bit.”
Feeling the sunshine’s warmth on your skin wakes you up at daybreak. You stretch and snuggle back into the cozy bed. Taehyung is still snoring softly beside you, unbothered by the sound of the birds awakening.
You admire his face as he sleeps, while memories of your steamy shower late last night drift through your mind. He took extra care of you, washing your body head to toe, massaging your scalp as he shampooed your hair, and leaving warm kissing on your skin after drying you off. Of course, that was all after he held you against the glass wall of his shower and did more sinful things to your writhing body. Shuddering as you remember the filthy things he whispered to you while doing those things.
You ignore the heat pooling between your legs from the recollections of Taehyung’s long fingers and where he put them, among other things, and internally groan instead realizing you need to make your escape now before the rest of the house wakes. Before you’re caught.
And if Sana stayed over too, you’ll never hear the end of it.
The walk of shame is not something people typically look forward to, especially when you’re leaving a frat house of all places. It’s a double-shame kind of moment.
You have one leg over him and are almost able to touch the floor to make your great escape.
Taehyung peeks between his barely parted eyelashes and smiles slyly at how unaware you are. His arms close around you quickly just as your foot skims the floor, immediately pulling you against him so your face is only a mere couple of inches away from his.
“And where, pray tell, do you think you’re going?” he says with a gruff morning voice that sends another wave of heat to your center. Your cheeks flush pink as you squirm, feeling his morning wood along your thigh.
"Oh, um. Hi-”
“Oh don’t do that.”
“Do what?” you ask as you try to wiggle out of his arms, but his iron grip doesn’t allow for that.
“Acting all shy. Nuh-uh. Not allowed. Not after last night,” he announces, tugging you in for a quick kiss while his fingers tickle your side, which causes you to wriggle against him even more.
He lets out a groan and his hips involuntarily buck up into yours. That’s when you really feel him.
It’s your turn to grin wolfishly. “Oh, sorry about that,” you taunt as you press your center down onto him again and circle slowly before sitting up on your knees, leaving him between your legs wanting more contact, needing more of you.
“Fuck, you can’t just grind on me and then stop, baby. Please keep going,” he begs as he juts his hips up looking for some kind of friction.
Taehyung stills and moans uncontrollably as you palm his hardening length through the fabric of his sweatpants, and it’s nearly enough to make him see stars when you reach inside to feel him.
His voice shudders when you pull him out from the waistband of his pants. Your pointer finger glides along his satiny skin, across the vein popped out from your touch, and up to his tip to wipe the small, white dribble away.
“Ready so soon? Thought you’d be spent after last night,” you tease, knowing very well he’ll pounce on you at any moment once given the okay. He watches in awe as you bring your finger up to your lips to lick it clean.
“Mmmm,” you hum, “maybe I should take another taste first…” You bend down to lick along his length this time.
“Oh god,” he grunts, his husky voice full of desire.
Taehyung thanks the universe for not coming undone the second your sweet mouth encompasses his length. He pushes the hair out of your face so he can watch you bob up and down, your hands covering the lower part of his shaft that won’t fit in your mouth.
You press down into him as far as your body lets you, swallowing his hugeness with pride.
His hand grips your hair to your head still as he moves inside you. Slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you, but picking up the pace nonetheless, loving how you choke around him.
He pulls out of your mouth and you gasp for air, drool dripping uncontrollably from your swollen lips.
“Open,” he rasps, holding back until he’s able to place his throbbing head on your tongue and shoots his release into your throat with a loud moan.
His body trembles as the tip of your tongue dances along the underside of his head. He gasps when your lips close around him and you work to suck the rest out of him.
His whole body shudders when you release him, the pain of being overstimulated mixing deliciously with the pleasure you make him feel. He lets out one last breath before collapsing beside you, totally drained.
You lay in bed as the sun rises up high in the sky, holding each other as you talk quietly about whatever crosses your minds, laughing every so often when one of you disagrees with the other, all while you wait to regain the energy to start your day officially.
Meaning it’s nearly noon by the time you crawl out of bed.
“C’mon, I’ll make us something to eat. You like french toast?”
The boys on the sofa ignore you as you walk behind them on your way to the kitchen with Taehyung, or so you think they do.
“Oh yeah, just like that Tae. Oooh,” Yoongi teases once you’re out of the living room, using a girly voice that is supposed to mock yours.
“Fuck, keep going, baby.” Jimin tries to imitate Taehyung but does so very poorly. Still, the overly smug look on his face taunts you childishly.
Taehyung grabs something out of the fruit bowl and whips it at them. “Go fuck yourself with that damn banana Jimin,” he hollers, muttering curses under his breath.
Awkwardly, Jimin picks up the banana that hits him in the back of the head and frowns, “Way to ruin bananas for me. Thanks.”
“As if that’s gonna stop you,” Seokjin laughs as he comes down the steps, joining the conversation. Jimin scowls. Namjoon loses it on the recliner, laughing so hard he’s not making a single sound, which in turn causes everyone to laugh with him.
“Don’t mind them, they’ve clearly lost too many brain cells,” he tells you after lifting you onto the counter next to his workstation. He turns to grab the ingredients he needs out of the fridge, and you realize with a sense of adoration, you could get used to this.
