teehee

using this to save fics for later I WAS BORN IN 1998

[seungkw1]

high maintenance — bsk

♡ pairing: boo seungkwan x f!reader ♡ theme: friends to lovers, smut [18+ mdni], humor ♡ wc: 6,861 ♡ warnings: weed consumption, food consumption, extreme levels of horniness lmao, neck grabbing, munch!seungkwan, oral, unprotected piv sex (don't do this fr), cumming in pants, cum eating/swallowing, light wrist pinning, nipple play, fingers in mouth, praise kink, size kink lowkey, hair pulling, hair washing, petnames (baby, good girl) ♡ a/n: happy birthday to my ult of ults, the loml, the cutiest loveliest boy ever, boo seungkwan!!! i could go on for eons naming all of the things i love about him, but i think yall should just read the fic instead ;) hope u like this filth i wrote about u king, ily so much <3 ♡ a/n 2: not beta'd, srry if there's any mistakes~

SYNOPSIS: Seungkwan has smoked weed exactly once in his life, and it went about as poorly as it could. He vowed to never partake again, a promise he's kept until today, when he accidentally ate one of your weed brownies. You spend the night taking care of him so he doesn't freak out, and everything is going surprisingly okay — that is, until he becomes ragingly and uncontrollably horny.

You were having a perfectly normal Saturday until your roommate accidentally ate one of your weed brownies.

Seungcheol was hosting a party tonight at his place. Jihyo was currently out of town on a work trip, and your other roommate Seungkwan had been gaming all day, so you had spent a nice, quiet afternoon baking chocolate chip cookies from scratch to take with you later. Once the cookies were cooled and packed neatly into some tupperware, all that was left was for you to shower and get yourself ready — but first you decided to treat yourself to one of the special brownies you had made the day before. Just a little something to take the edge off — besides, people were bound to be partaking at the party anyway, so if you showed up a little high no one would notice or care.

You take your shower and get dressed. By the time you get to your makeup, you're feeling pleasantly mellowed out. Finishing off with mascara, you grab your purse and head out to the main room to see if your roommate is ready to go yet. As you pass the kitchen you see him standing in there.

"Hey, you ready to go?" you ask. "I can call the Uber if you wan—"

You freeze mid sentence as you realize he is standing next to the opened container of your brownies, dark brown fudgy crumbles sticking to his lips.

"Oh no…"

Seungkwan turns to face you, looking slightly embarrassed to be caught in the act.

"Sorry," he says sheepishly. "I know these were for the party, but I figured it'd be okay for me to have one now. I haven't eaten since breakfast so I was getting hungry."

"Seungkwan," you say quietly. "How many did you eat?"

"Just one," he answers, . "I'm sorry y/n, I shouldn't have taken it without asking—"

"No no, that's not the problem," you cut him off. "Those… aren't for the party though." You point over at the tupperware sitting on the table. "The cookies are."

He looks over at the cookies, then back to the brownies.

"Oh."

"And, uh… Those have weed in them."

You watch as he processes your words, abject horror washing over his face.

"Oh no," he mumbles, clutching his forehead in distress as he stares off into space.

You know for a fact that Seungkwan has consumed weed exactly once in his whole life: at a frat party in college, where he took one singular much-too-fat bong rip that very nearly made him throw up on the spot and quickly sent him into a panic attack. You did your best to calm him down, but once he started sobbing you had no choice but to drag him up two flights of stairs and knock on the door of the room he shared with Jeonghan. Jeonghan, who was very clearly about to have sex with his girlfriend, opened the door with a scowl on his face — but when he saw the state his roommate was in he just rolled his eyes, helping you drag a stumbling Seungkwan over to his bed. His girlfriend glared at you as she marched out of the room, as if this was somehow all your fault, but you were too busy worrying about your friend to concern yourself with that. Jeonghan assured you he would take care of Seungkwan, informing you the next day that once he finally stopped crying he just laid there catatonic for a bit before eventually falling asleep. He didn't show up to any of his classes that day, allegedly too hungover — but you're pretty sure he was also just plain mortified. He swore he'd never touch any form of weed ever again, a promise which you know he's kept — until now.

"I'm so sorry," you apologize profusely, feeling terrible about what you've inadvertently done. "I should have labeled them or something, this is all my fault…"

Seungkwan shakes his head. "No, this one's on me. I should have at least asked." He runs his hand through his hair, looking deeply stressed. "Oh god, this is so bad, I'm such a fucking idiot—"

"You're not an idiot, you just made a mistake."

"Well, we all know what happened last time," he grimaces. "And that was only one hit." His face turns frighteningly pale as the severity of the situation starts to sink in. He begins to visibly panic, pacing around the kitchen frantically. "Oh my god I'm so fucked—"

"Hey," you say softly, quickly walking over to him and grabbing him by the shoulders. "Look at me." He obeys, stilling himself as he stares back at you — eyes round and fearful.

"It's gonna be okay," you reassure him. "I'm not going anywhere."

"But what about the party?" he asks timidly.

You shake your head. "Forget the party. I'm not leaving you alone while you're high."

"It's okay," he declines glumly. "You don't have to babysit me—"

"Yes, I do," you insist. "I've seen how you get after like two beers, and you just took around 10mg of THC."

"Is that a lot?" he asks nervously.

"For you, yeah."

"Oh god," he mumbles, burying his face in his hands.

"Hey, you're gonna be fine," you insist. You give him a pat on the head, not realizing until you're doing it that that's probably kind of weird. You quickly drop your hand as he looks back up at you. "I'll order us a pizza — I also had brownie already, so laying around watching a movie or something sounds pretty good to me right now anyway."

"You had one too?" he asks, looking befuddled. "How are you so normal right now??"

You try not to giggle, but a smile pokes at the corners of your mouth. "Well, it hasn't fully hit yet, but also I'm used to it."

"How long does it take to kick in?"

"Depends," you answer. "But usually around an hour, give or take. Since you haven't eaten it'll probably be faster for you."

"Oh goody."

You pull your phone of your bag, opening the delivery app and typing pizza into the search.

"How do you feel about stuffed crust?"

"Oh man, stuffed crust was the right choice."

Seungkwan shoves the last bite of his slice into his mouth, humming with delight at the cheesy goodness. While you were waiting for your pizza delivery got here, Seungkwan was already starting to feel the effect of the brownie. Before he could freak out, you had tucked him under a weighted blanket on the couch and put How It's Made on the tv. The calmness of the show surprisingly seemed to work — instead of having a panic attack he simply laid there, fully locked into learning about how hammers are made in a factory.

By the time the pizza had arrived, Seungkwan was floating off into space — and admittedly, you were as well. Between the two of you, you nearly polished off the whole pizza in record time, leaving you satisfyingly full and sinking pleasantly into opposite ends of the couch. Few words are exchanged for the next several minutes, the both of you staring at the tv where you were now learning how cheese is made. Soon, the episode ends; as you're fumbling around for the remote you realize you had shifted into laying sideways on the couch, your feet tossed over Seungkwan's extended leg as he reclines, sinking into the sofa's other end.

"Oh shit, sorry," you mumble as you move your feet off of him.

"Hm?" he asks, staring at you blankly from half-shut, bloodshot eyes without moving his body an inch. You giggle, smiling lazily at him.

"You're fucking blasted, dude," you tell him, straining to get the words out of your mouth.

"Yeah," he agrees blindly, having no idea what you said but just going with it, which only sends you into another fit of giggles.

"How're you feeling?" you question, slowly sitting back up on the couch. He stares at you for a moment, the gears visibly turning in his head as he tries to form an answer.

"Umm…" he starts, trailing off for so long that you begin to wonder if he's fallen asleep with his eyes open — but finally, he remembers that he exists. "I feel………weird," he answers.

"Good weird or bad weird?"

"I dunno," he mutters. "Both, I guess."

"Hey," you say to him, your eyes starting to zone out. Blinking as few times, your sight refocuses on his face — his cheeks and ears tinged hot pink. "You're doing great. For real — I thought this was going to be so much worse."

"Don't speak too soon," he replies, his words slurring slightly. "How long is this gonna last?"

"Um, probably like… a few hours? But it depends."

"I think I've been here for a million years already," he laments, making you grin.

"I regret to inform you that it's only been…" You reach for your phone, checking the time as the screen illuminates. "Likeee, an hour? I think."

"Oh god," he groans. "I'm gonna die like this."

"No, you're not," you tell him sternly, stifling down your laughter. "Here, what's your favorite comfort movie?"

"Ummm… " he thinks out loud, furrowing his brow as he tries to rack his brain — a difficult task considering that his head feels like it's full of soup right now. "I don't know, I can't think."

"Okay, what's any movie you like?"

Seungkwan's face scrunches as he concentrates all his effort on trying to come up with the name of any movie. "Mamma Mia," he answers finally.

"Perfect. We'll watch that."

You locate the film on Netflix and put it on, the melody to "I Have a Dream" beginning to play as the movie begins. You quickly get absorbed in the music, humming along to the familiar tune. When the number is over, you glance over at Seungkwan, his face looking sickly pale again.

"Hey, you good?"

"I think I'm scared," he responds quietly, looking in the direction of the tv screen but clearly zoned out.

"Wait right here," you tell him as you slowly hoist yourself off the couch, as if he was going to be going anywhere. You shuffle over to the kitchen and retrieve a glass of ice water, bringing it back to your disheveled roommate.

"Here," you say as you grab his forearm, pulling him up into a sitting position. He blinks dully as you hand him the cup. "Drink this."

He obeys, lifting the rim of the glass to his lips and sipping on the water. You notice his body trembling slightly — you're not sure if he's cold or just freaking out, but regardless you grab the blanket again and wrap it around him. He gratefully accepts, huddling himself in its fabric. The way it's draped over his head like a hood, with only his round face poking out makes you giggle again. He peers up at you through soft, glassy eyes, looking pathetic but adorable.

"What?" he inquires softly.

"Nothing," you grin, sitting down on the couch next to him. "You just kinda look like E.T."

"Hey!"

"No, I mean it in a good way!" you laugh. "I swear."

Seungkwan pretends to pout, but the smile spreading across his cheeks gives him away.

You sit in silence together for a few minutes, attention shifted back to the movie. A distant memory suddenly resurfaces in your foggy mind — you're not sure where it came from, but you start to giggle again. Seungkwan glances over at you, a confused look on his already-dazed face.

"Do you remember that time we got lost in New Orleans on spring break?" you ask him, pulling your feet up onto the couch and tucking them beside you. He can't help but notice that you've scooted closer to him, prompting his heart to flutter anxiously in his chest.

"You mean, when Soonyoung insisted he knew of a haunted cemetery 'just down the block' from Bourbon Street? And then we ended up on the complete opposite side of town from our hotel?" Seungkwan asks with a grin, trying his best to keep his heavy eyelids from fluttering closed. "Yeah, that rings a bell."

"I'm not sure who was dumber, Soonyoung for thinking he knew his way around a city he'd never been to, or us for trusting him."

"In my defense, I was extremely drunk," Seungkwan points out. "My sense of judgment was a bit impaired."

"We all were, which I think was the problem," you giggle. "I distinctly remember you threatening to turn Soonyoung into a ghost yourself."

Seungkwan laughs. "Well, I don't remember that part, but I believe you."

"Yeah, I think I had to stop you from murdering him at least four separate times."

"Sounds about right."

"Well, at least we eventually made it back without anyone getting murdered," you smile. "It is pretty funny in retrospect."

"Yeah, shoutout to that taxi driver," Seungkwan nods. "I kinda thought he was going to murder us at first too, but turns out he was super nice."

"Shoutout Steve, for real," you nod in agreement. Noticing something, you lean over toward your roommate; Seungkwan starts to panic, thinking you were going to kiss him completely out of the blue — but you brush your finger across his cheek.

"You had an eyelash," you comment, reclining back into the couch again — noticeably closer than before. Seungkwan's body untenses a bit. Not that he would be opposed to you kissing him — hell, it's something he's thought about off and on ever since he met you. But if you had done it without warning, right now while he's stoned out of his mind, he would've panicked.

He goes back to staring at the tv, but he's not paying attention to anything that's happening on it. He can't seem to get his mind off you, something he's worked very hard on ever since he signed the lease and moved in with you and Jihyo — and he's gotten quite good at it. But thanks to the dumb weed brownie he stupidly ate, it's become increasingly difficult to exert self-control right now. You had changed out of the outfit you were planning to wear to the party, which was good considering how low-cut your top had been. But the thin sweatpants and tank top you changed into are proving to be infinitely worse. He's seen you without a bra countless times by now, but he's used to ignoring it — a task that's proving to be impossible right now. His eyes keep flickering over to your boobs, as if your nipples poking through the fabric were pulling his gaze in with a magnet. Thankfully you seem to be too high to notice, but he doesn't know how much longer he can contain himself. Eventually, you shiver, crossing your arms to huddle into yourself a bit, which only draws more attention to your cleavage.

"Are you cold? Here," he says to you in a brief moment of clarity, unwrapping the blanket from around himself and offering it to you. You take the other half, scooting in closer so you can both share the blanket. Shit.

He tells himself that since he can't see your body anymore, it'll be fine. He can just ignore the fact that you're so close to him, your thigh pressing into his, your shoulder resting against his arm. But your body heat starts to make him far too hot beneath the blanket. He wishes to throw it off himself, hand the rest of it to you — but he can't. The damn blanket is the only thing stopping you from seeing the massive boner growing in his pants right now. His plan not only failed, but has now backfired horrendously.

He tries and tries to get his mind off of you, tries to think of the most boring, turn-off-ish things he can possibly muster up — but his mind doesn't want to think about taxes or his grandmother or the mitochondria being the powerhouse of the cell. All he can think of is you, and it's driving him fucking crazy.

The urge to touch himself soon becomes unbearable. You're too out of it to register the torturous state he's currently in; you can tell that he's tense, but you just assume it's general weed-induced anxiety. He closes his eyes, shifting in his seat slightly, his cock straining against the fabric of his shorts — but it's no use. He is utterly desperate for relief.

Maybe I can go to the bathroom, he thinks. Maybe getting away from you for a few minutes will help. He's pretty sure he could rub one out in thirty seconds at this point — just cum real quick and get it over with.

Or… She could jerk me off, an evil voice inside his head whispers to him.

The mere thought of your hand on his cock, touching him, is too much to handle. He throws the blanket aside, bolting out of the room before you can see the tent in his pants.

"I'llberightback!!" he shouts, voice nearly cracking. He's gone before you can turn around, his footsteps echoing as he runs down the hallway, followed by the SLAM! of his bedroom door.

You stare at the now-empty hallway, your fried mind trying to process what just happened. Eventually you hoist yourself off the couch, slowly sauntering after him.

"Seungkwan?" you call out as you approach his closed door. You softly knock twice, but then register the heavy breathing coming from the other side. "You okay?"

Silence follows, punctuated only by his deep inhales and exhales.

"I'm fine," he eventually squeaks.

"You don't sound fine," you reply. "And you're not a good liar."

Seungkwan sighs, head thumping against the door as he slumps against it further. He still doesn't answer; you roll your eyes, tapping at the door again.

"Seungkwan."

"Can I ask you something?" he finally says, his timid voice wavering slightly.

"Sure," you answer.

"But you CAN'T laugh at me," he adds insistently.

"I won't," you agree softly.

"Promise?"

"Yes."

He's certain he's going to regret this, but with another deep sigh he just goes for it.

"Is weed supposed to give me a boner?" he asks quietly.

You slap your hand over your mouth, stifling the burst of laughter that threatens to escape you. You promised you wouldn't laugh, but you weren't expecting him to ask that.

"Um, I mean… weed can definitely make you kinda horny, yeah," you answer him.

"This isn't 'kinda'," he replies before he can stop himself. "This is violent."

You picture his cock in your mind, painfully hard and bulging in his shorts. The fact that that's exactly what's happening on the other side of the door, right now, makes your stomach drop. You instinctively squeeze your thighs together, your core hot and aching for relief — but the added stimulation only makes things worse.

You know you shouldn't say anything. Seungkwan is your roommate — you get along well and have been good friends for years now. You have a great, completely 100% platonic relationship, and you'd be devastated if anything were to happen to that.

But you're high, your pussy is wet, and you do not care.

"I could help you," you say quietly through the door.

Seungkwan thinks he must be hearing things. There's no fucking way you just said what he thought you said. Right?

"I—What?" his voice quivers back, his inflection tinged with genuine disbelief.

"You could let me in, if you want," you reply, treading cautiously. "I can help you."

Seungkwan's dick throbs. He grabs the bulge in his fist, squeezing it lightly. This could be her instead, he thinks. If the room wasn't spinning around him before, it is now.

He opens the door, cracking it open just enough to poke his head out.

"Are you sure?" he asks hesitantly. You step into the narrow opening, your face leaning in so close to his that your noses brush.

"I am."

The soft utterance of your words fall hot onto his lips. Without another thought he swings the door open; you immediately step through the threshold, your hands falling to his waist as you kiss him. His hands gravitate to your neck, holding you delicately as he finally gets to kiss you for the first time. You grab him and spin him around, shutting the door behind him and pinning him against it as you bite gently but eagerly at his bottom lip.

"Fuck," he gasps as you push your body into his, his stiff cock bulging against your stomach as your hands slip beneath his t-shirt, gliding over his warm and soft skin.

"Poor baby, you're so hard," you mutter before kissing him again, making a tiny whimper escape his throat. Your lips trail across his face, planting fragile pecks on his supple cheeks.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he mumbles, his eyes falling shut as your lips migrate to the other side of his face, leaving no spot unkissed. His hands slowly drop from your neck, resting on your breasts and giving them a squeeze; you knew he had large, strong hands, but you never expected them to feel so incredible touching you like this.

A louder moan escapes him as you place one hand onto his bulge.

"Tell me what you need, baby," you croon. You stare into his dark eyes, forehead pressed against his, as you begin to massage his cock through his shorts. His jaw drops, mouth hanging slightly open, his eyelids fluttering shut at your touch.

I need you in every way humanly possible, he wants to tell you. But there's one thing in particular — something he's quite literally dreamt about a shameful amount of times before — that he wants more than anything.

"Let me go down on you," he answers, opening his eyes again to gaze into yours. His voice is low and husky, sending an excited rumble through your gut. "Please."

You nod, staring back at him with overwhelming desire. Seungkwan has always been undeniably handsome, but you've never had feelings for him like this before. Maybe it's the weed, maybe you've just been single for a while now and have been yearning for physical intimacy. But it doesn't matter — the only thing that matters right now is that Seungkwan wants you, and you want him.

"I'd love that," you whisper into his open mouth.

Before you know it, you're on his bed, Seungkwan hurriedly stripping your sweatpants and underwear off. He lays himself between your spread legs, positioning his face near your bare pussy.

"Fuck, baby," he mumbles as he runs two fingers through your drenched folds. "You're so wet."

You sigh as he touches you, spreading your juices around and tracing his fingertips over your swelling clit. Looking down at him, he's staring hungrily at your pussy, practically drooling at the sight before him. With a lick of his lips he gazes up at you, holding eye contact as he drags his tongue over your slit. The tiniest bit of pressure and the warmth of his mouth bring relief to your aching cunt, but immediately leave you craving more.

Slowly his tongue dances across your folds, the taste of you flooding his mouth as he laps up your slick arousal — delicious and utterly irresistible.

"Tastes so fucking good," he moans. You cry out softly as he slips his tongue into your hole, leisurely swirling it around inside you. The tip of his nose brushes against your clit, sending a jolt of electricity up your spine. Instinctively your hips begin to rock, rubbing your clit over his nose as you tenderly run fingers through his soft brown locks. He begins to increase his pace, working his tongue in and out of your hole, stopping only to suck at it gently before returning to fucking you. Your grip on his hair slowly tightens, holding his head in its position as you start to grind on his face. Eventually he licks up to your clit, flicking his tongue back and forth over the sensitive bud.

"Oh my goddd," you groan. Soft whimpers escape your lips as he eagerly eats you out; the sound is overwhelming — his hips begin to thrust, rubbing his painfully erect cock against the mattress, making him moan into your pussy. Soon he latches onto your clit, sucking at it with increasing intensity, and the sensation is heavenly. A white-hot fire burns in your gut, and you start to feel your orgasm building.

"That feels so good, baby," you whine, clutching at his hair as he sucks on your throbbing clit. "Don't stop."

And he doesn't. He eats your pussy as if it's his last meal on earth, making you moan so loud that the neighbors can certainly hear it, but you're too high and it feels too good for that to even be a concern. Your head falls back onto the pillows as your back begins to arch, your body trembling as he ceaselessly suckles your clit. Seungkwan's arms around your thighs tighten as he grasps onto you, humping the bed desperately as your cries grow louder still. Your orgasm hits you like a freight train — your mind goes blank, an eruption of fireworks overtaking you as your body writhes with pleasure. All you can think of while you release is Seungkwan, Seungkwan, Seungkwan…

You aren't aware that you're also saying it out loud, moaning his name over and over again, but he is. It's all too much — he groans as his hips buck into the bed, cum spurting from his cock and making a fucking mess in his pants.

He couldn't care less. That was incredible, one of best orgasms of his life — and he did it hands-free, face buried in your pussy.

He licks you softly as you both start to come down from your climax, the rush of endorphins combined with the intoxication of the weed making you both feel like you are blissfully floating away into space. A tenderly-placed kiss on your tingling clit zaps you back to reality; you slowly open your eyes, the sight of Seungkwan still between your legs making you grin lazily. You release the clutch you still have on his hair, relaxing your hand as you stroke your fingers through the pretty brown tendrils.

"That was," you say to him between slow, deep breaths, "fucking amazing."

It takes a gargantuan effort, but he lifts his heavy head up to look at you. His eyes are still bloodshot and glazed over, gazing up at you with pure adoration.

"Yeah," he sighs, a big cheesy smile overtaking his round and reddened cheeks. "It was."

It takes your high mind a moment to register that he looks far too relaxed for someone who was previously ragingly aroused. Then, it hits you.

"Did you…" you start hesitantly. He nods before you even finish your question.

"Yeah, I came," he answers, an embarrassed grin coloring his face. "Sorry…"

"Don't be sorry," you tell him, your face prickling with heat. "That's kind of, um, super hot actually."

He flops his head back down onto the bed, unmoving from his current position.

"I'm still so fucking horny," he groans, his voice muffled by the sheets. "This is ridiculous."

"I have great news," you say to him, prompting him to poke his head up again. "I am too. And I really want you to fuck me."

His poor cock starts to throb again. His erection hasn't gone down at all despite cumming already, and now it's becoming achingly stiff once more.

"You're gonna be the death of me," he responds, but desire starts to darken his eyes once more.

"C'mere," you say, grabbing his hand and tugging at his arm. He slowly drags himself up the bed, plopping down on his back and laying beside you. Where his cock lay thick and bulging in his shorts, you see it surrounded by several large, darkened spots on the light fabric where his cum had seeped through. You reach for his waistband, tugging it down and over his dick as you peel his shorts and sticky-wet boxers off his body. You lean over and start to lick the cum off of his stomach, prompting him to let out a euphoric groan.

"Jesus Christ, you're filthy."

"Want me to stop?" you tease, hovering your mouth over his shaft.

"Fuck no," he grins. You drag your tongue up and down his length, taking your time as you clean up the remainder of his mess as he watches gluttonously. His cock starts to leak again, the clear sticky fluid dribbling from his tip and pooling onto his stomach.

"Fuck, I need you," he mumbles, wrapping his hand tightly around your wrist and pulling you back up to him. As you rest your head back onto the pillow he reaches for your tank top, stripping it off of you and freeing your breasts.

"Holy shit," he groans, quickly attaching his mouth to your nearest nipple. You whine as he eagerly sucks on it, nipping gently with his teeth.

"That feels so good," you praise, petting his hair again as you watch him. He switches to your other boob, licking at the nipple as he squeezes the soft flesh in his hand. He goes back and forth for several minutes, eventually making you wriggle and whimper beneath his grasp as arousal overtakes you once more.

Eventually he releases his mouth from your breast. He removes his shirt, tossing it to the floor as he suddenly rolls over on top of you. You gasp softly, your legs opening around him as his cock hovers before your core. You reach for it, giving him a few strokes as you position the head by your entrance. Slowly he pushes it in, leaving your mouth agape as he begins to fill you up. The stretch is divine. He takes his time, letting you get used to him as he goes deeper and deeper inside you. As he bottoms out you let out a small whimper, staring up at him desperately. He leans in to kiss you on the lips.

"I'll go slow," he whispers.

"Don't," you whisper back.

Your gaze is lustful, eyes begging, pleading for him to fuck you and to fuck you now. He begins to move his hips, pulling his cock out nearly all the way, then pushing it back in. Then repeat. And repeat. And repeat, but faster. Your mewls grow louder as he thrusts into you; his strokes are long and measured — if he goes any faster he's going to lose control, and he wants to take his time, wants to savor you.

He keeps that up for as long as he can, which isn't very long at all. Your moans and whimpers quickly start to send him into a frenzy, fucking you fast and hard as your walls squeeze delectably around his cock. He leans down to kiss you, locking lips and slipping his tongue into your mouth as he ceaselessly fucks you; you wrap your arms around his torso, nails digging into his back as you cling to him, holding his body tightly against yours.

Seungkwan feels the heat building in his gut. He fucks you and kisses you and moans into your mouth and holds you tight. Nothing has ever felt better in his life than your pretty little pussy feels around his cock right now; he simply can't get enough of you.

Soon his body is quivering, his thrusts becoming frantic as his orgasm nears. His groans turn whiny, utterly desperate and depraved, as do yours.

"Cum in me," you beg, and that's enough to send him over the edge. He releases, crying out with pure pleasure as he pumps powerful bursts of cum deep into your pussy. The sensation of him filling you up is like nothing else; moans escape your lips as his cock pulses inside you, giving you every last drop of his cum.

Finally, he collapses on top of you, unable to hold himself up any longer. You hug him, squeezing him into you as you plant a string of kisses on his cheek and neck.

"Heyyy stop it," he giggles, barely able to form words between heaving breaths.

"What, are you ticklish?" you tease.

"Pshhh, no," he huffs dismissively.

You tickle his sides. He yelps, hastily grabbing your hands to pry them off of him.

"Okay, okay! Maybe a little bit," he laughs. He interlaces his fingers with yours, holding your hands as he softly pins them against the mattress.

"Good to know," you grin, giving him another, slower kiss.

When your lips part again, Seungkwan sits up slightly. He gently pulls his cock out of you; you sigh as the head pops out.

"Let me see, baby," he coos. You release, letting all of his cum spill out of you and onto the bed. He collects some of it on his fingertips, lifting his hand to your face.

"Open."

You do as he says, sticking your tongue out as you accept his cum-covered fingers in your mouth. You suck lightly on them, eagerly lapping up his release once more.

"Good girl," he grins smugly.

"Hey man, you can't just be saying shit like that to me," you say bewilderedly.

"Why, because you like it?"

"Yeah," you answer, a smile creeping across your face. You grab his face with one hand, squishing his cheeks as you pull him in and kiss him. "Exactly."

"Do you wanna shower with me?" he asks without hesitation. You nod, making him grin excitedly. He stumbles as he gets up, clearly still high as a kite. But he makes his way into the bathroom, turning the shower on and waiting for the water warm up.

Once it's pleasantly hot, he comes and fetches you. You spend about the first 10 minutes or so making out, letting the droplets rain down on you as you cling to each other needily. Seungkwan offers to shampoo your hair for you; you accept, letting him run his fingers through your hair as he lathers thoroughly. The head massage relaxes you so deeply that you nearly start to fall asleep standing up — but you manage to stay awake, watching Seungkwan gaze at you fondly as he rinses your hair, then conditions and rinses again.

"Come sleep in my bed," you say to Seungkwan after a very lengthy shower, yawning as you don your jammies — the cute ones, with the teddy bears on them. He pulls a clean pair of boxers on, also looking very sleepy, but his face lights up.

"Okay," he beams excitedly.

His arm rests around your waist as you head to your room together. Crawling into bed, you roll over and wrap your arms around his torso, snuggling in close. His skin is warm, instantly making you feel cozy. You give him one more kiss on the lips, watching as he surrenders to his sleepiness, abandoning the fight to keep his eyes open.

"Goodnight," you whisper, unsure if he is actually asleep already, but a tiny smile flickers across his face.

"Goodnight, y/n," he mumbles back quietly. "Thanks for taking care of me."

You wake the next morning to find yourself still in Seungkwan's arms. Trying not to wake him, you slowly slip out of his grasp; he begins to stir, but then he rolls over and plops onto his stomach, still fast asleep. You check the time: 10:27am. Much later than you normally sleep, but it's not like you had anything else going on today.

Quietly you exit your room and shut the door behind you. Seungkwan is normally an early riser, but you figured you'd let him sleep a little longer. You pour yourself a bowl of cereal, standing in the kitchen and mindlessly scrolling through social media as you eat it. You open Instagram to see pictures from the party last night, posted by your friends. It did look like a fun time, and normally you'd be bummed to have missed out — but you wouldn't trade last night for anything.

You occupy yourself with a bit of cleaning for the next hour or so, waiting for Seungkwan to wake up, but your bedroom door remains silently shut. Eventually you decide to check on him; opening the door slowly, you see him in the exact same spot you left him in.

"Seungkwan," you say softly as you place your hand on his back, but no response. You shake him gently, then a little less gently, until his eyes finally flicker open.

"Hmm?" he hums groggily.

"Good morning," you say cheerfully. He groans, pulling the pillow over his head.

"What time is it?" he asks, voice muffled as he speaks into the mattress.

"Almost noon."

"Shit," he grumbles.

"How are you feeling?" you ask, rubbing his back softly.

"Like I got hit by a bus."

You try to pry the pillow off his head, but he clings to it tightly. You then yank the sheets off of him, making him whine.

"Nooooo I don't wanna," he mumbles. He yelps as you slap him in the ass.

"C'mon, you can't sleep forever."

He emerges from beneath the pillow, rolling onto his back — grabbing your arms in the process and dragging you back into the bed with him.

"Hey!" you protest, but he pulls you into his embrace, squeezing you as he makes you his little spoon. His hand drifts up your shirt, grabbing your boob as he begins to kiss your neck — all while his very obvious boner presses against your ass.

"Okay, so you're still horny."

"Yes," he answers, rutting against you needily.

"You're helpless," you tease. You roll over to face him, greeted with heavily dilated pupils and flushed cheeks.

"I am," he pouts at you, acting pathetic. "You gotta help me."

You roll your eyes. "So what do you think," you ask, palming his cock through his boxers and making him groan. "Wanna do edibles again with me sometime?"

"Hell no," he responds immediately, shaking his head.

"Aw, I thought you had fun," you pout, letting go of his dick.

"No no, I did!" he insists, grabbing your hand and drawing it back to his bulge. "I just, um… I don't think I need to get high to want to have sex with you again," he answers shyly.

A grin spreads across your face. "I like the sound of that," you say as you lean in to kiss him again.

As your lips break free you give him a light shove, pushing him onto his back and climbing over on top of him. You tug at the waistband of his underwear; his eyes widen excitedly. He lifts his hips off the bed you can pull them off, his hard cock springing into view. You were so high last night that you figured everything was just heightened, but now that you're sober you realize that his dick really is big. Mouth watering, you scoot down to position yourself between his legs, spitting on his cock and spreading it over his length with your fist.

"Ohhh, fuck," he sighs, his head falling back into the pillow. But he wants to watch; he lifts his head back up, petting your head gently as you gaze up at him. You bring his cock to your lips, slowly wrapping them around his tip as you lower your mouth onto him. You slowly swallow as much of his length as you can, until the head pokes at the back of your throat; you pause there for a moment, letting him enjoy the sensation, before pushing it further down your esophagus.

"Oh my fucking god," he groans as you gag on him. Your eyes start to water, but you don't stop, letting his cock choke you as you take him deep in your throat. He gathers your hair, holding it out of your face as your head bobs up and down. Your pace increases; Seungkwan is in heaven — his hips begin to rock, fucking into your mouth as the heat rises in his body. Soon he's whining again, uninhibited pleasure overtaking him.

"Baby, 'm gonna cum," he wails. Moments later his cock begins to pulse, shooting hot white ropes into the back of your mouth as he moans incessantly. As he finishes, his body starts to relax; you swallow, taking every last bit of his cum before slowly dragging your mouth off his length. His tip is still furiously-red, twitching beneath your grasp.

"Oh my god," he mumbles, collapsing into the mattress. You crawl back up beside him; he wraps his arms around you, kissing your face repeatedly and making you giggle.

"You're incredible," he praises you softly. His stomach suddenly rumbles with hunger.

"C'mon, you need to eat," you insist. "It's already lunchtime." You try to get up, but he clings to you. You gasp as he slips his hand down your pants, fingertips brushing over your wet cunt.

"Take these off, baby," he tells you, tugging at your pajamas. "I know exactly what I want to eat."

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[woncheolisms]

rules. (choi seungcheol x reader)

summary: when you break seungcheol’s most important rule, he knows he has to punish you. you just didn’t know how much you would end up liking it.

word count: 4.9k

warnings: angst if you squint, smut, nsfw, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, spanking, some pain play, praise and degradation, rough (and I mean ROUGH) sex, oral (m receiving), fingering, orgasm denial, lots of dirty talk, daddy kink, mentions of subspace. Pls read at your own risk.

a/n: this is the most out there thing I’ve written seriously…. I usually don’t write dynamics like these so this was an exercise for me too lol. I hope you like it! Feedback is always loved and appreciated xx

Things felt off from the very start.

You know it’s your fault. You had a terrible day, and you should’ve just taken it easy when you got back home. Work was a shitshow, and for hours, all you wanted was to just lay down in your bed and never speak to another human being again. You should have communicated that. Without a doubt, Seungcheol would’ve dropped everything to pamper you. He would’ve drawn you a nice, warm bath and taken over the dishes after dinner. He would’ve rubbed your feet and gotten you something overly sweet for dessert as a treat for getting through the absolute hell of a day you had.

But you didn’t say anything. In fact, you just kissed him harder, with more purpose, and told him dinner could wait. You pawed at his clothes and told him to take you hard and rough. You wanted to feel, but you forgot that your mind is really not strong enough today to handle what you were asking your boyfriend to give you.

Because, you see, Seungcheol has rules.

You had always been a fan of more spice in the bedroom, and you truly feel like you met your match when you got with Seungcheol. For every submissive tendency in your body, for all the times you wanted zero control over your own senses, Seungcheol was more than happy to take the reins. He loved it, basked in it, knew how to play your body like a stringed instrument. His dominance in the bedroom came with only one, all encompassing rule: you don’t do anything he doesn’t give you explicit permission to do. And that includes every single one of your innumerable orgasms.

Usually, you love it. Your job is taxing and overburdening, and sometimes, you want someone else to take charge and just tell you what to do. For years, you have been perfect, the epitome of submission. You’re his good girl, always, disciplined and in-line. There’s only a smattering of brat in you, which Seungcheol tolerates in small doses, but otherwise, you are perfectly pliant, suited for his needs the way he is suited to yours. There’s a harmony here, established by many years of communication and understanding. So you should’ve known. You should’ve said something, told him to take it easy. But you stupidly kept your mouth shut, and hence began your current predicament.

He’s fucking you into the mattress just like you asked, his sweats pulled down just enough to let him pound his cock into you. You’re naked from the waist down, arching, chest constricted in your pale, buttoned up blouse. You hadn’t even let him fully undress you. You didn’t want to take your time, you just wanted him in you. Even when he tried to tighten his grip on you, tried to mumble a ‘slow down’ into your mouth, you didn’t let him, begging, pleading, promising to be good for him if he would just fill you up, and so he complied.

That was the mistake, and it became your undoing when, just minutes later, you are clamping up around him, your body already so stiff and wound up, so glaringly exhausted, that no amount of self control can stop you. You clench hard and come, writhing on the mattress fisting the sheets, wailing as it washes over you in scattered, broken waves. You haven’t even come down from it when tears coat your eyes and you realise what you’ve done.

Seungcheol slows to a stop, still throbbing inside you, but jaw dropped in shock. This might be the first time in years that you’ve come without slurring out your usual ‘please’ or ‘let me’ or ‘can I?’, waiting for his permission. You’d always listened, always done what you were told, never once stepping even a toe out of line.

This is incredibly out of character.

Immediately, he can see it weigh heavily on you. You’re panting, legs still trembling, but your body is stiffening, he can feel it around his dick, and your face is crumpling. He knows you regret it, but he also knows why this happened. He should’ve known. God, he should’ve spotted it the second you walked in through the door. The hard plane of your shoulders, the tight line of your lips. But he had gotten barely two words out of his mouth before you were smothering him with yours, begging in that cute, whiny voice of yours that you need this bad. He had stupidly agreed, and now he’s watching you fall apart.

He needs to fix this.

“I’m-” Your voice is pitched and wobbly. Your arms tuck into your body, legs pulling together as much as they can with him between them. You’re trying to shrink yourself. “‘M sorry. Cheol, I’m so-”

This isn’t on you, he knows this. This isn’t your fault at all. If anything, it’s his. He should know you well enough by now to estimate what you need and give it to you. But now is not the time to beat himself up. You need to forget this happening, or you will do what you always do; think about this to the point of spiraling and making yourself sick with guilt. He also knows that no amount of reassurance is going to make you forget it.

Through your teary vision, you hear a tut of disappointment, and then your boyfriend pulls out. You’re filled with dread, because you don’t want him to step back. You know you’ve fucked up. This is one of his most important rules. There’s just no conceivable universe where you’re allowed to cum without Seungcheol telling you to, and already, guilt is striking your chest like stab wounds from knives.

“That wasn’t like you, sweetheart.” His voice is rough but soft. “I’m very surprised.”

You sniffle, resisting the urge to curl into yourself. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you?” You feel his hands on your bare knees, closing them and sitting back on his haunches. You sit up shakily, blinking hard to try and see him in the relative darkness of the room. The golden light from the lamp hits the side of his face. His expression is blank. You can’t tell what he’s thinking.

“I am sorry.” You insist again. “I don’t know what came over me-”

“I don’t know what came over you either.” He tilts his head, watching you. “Thats not how good girls behave.”

Your heart lurches. This is your biggest medal. Your point of pride; being good for Seungcheol. Never once in all your years of doing this had you let him down. Never. The mere thought of it might push you to panic. Before you can say anything, you feel Seungcheol’s hand, strong and sure, run over your jaw and cup the back of your neck. He squeezes slowly, affectionately, and you lean into it, wet eyelids fluttering. Every fibre in you hopes he isn’t mad.

“When good girls misbehave, they have to be punished.” He whispers. “I know you never have before, princess, but you know it’s fair.”

You swallow tightly before hesitantly nodding. It’s the rules. You step out of line, you get punished. You will do anything to make up for your misstep. You will take any punishment.

“Okay.” You sniffle. Seungcheol sighs and nods.

“Good.” He says, not ‘good girl’. But you don’t deserve to be called that right now. “Strip.”

Seungcheol stands as he watches you shakily undo your blouse buttons. You tug it off and reach back for your bra. When you’re sat bare before him, you watch him tuck his erection back into his sweats, seating himself on the edge of the bed with his back to you. He reaches an arm back to gesture to you.

“Come here.”

You comply, crawling to him on your hands and knees. He maneuvers your body very easily, settling you on his lap until your stomach is pressed to his thighs, strong and sturdy under the soft material of his pants. Your legs dangle, ass sticking out. You flush at the position, realising what’s coming. You’ve been spanked before, mostly during sex when Seungcheol is whispering dirty things into your ear from behind and slapping your ass. But never like this. You almost jump when you feel his hand run up your right asscheek.

“I think ten sounds good.” He hums. “You will count, and you will say thank you after every single one. Got it?”

Your eyelids flutter. You rest your head on your arms. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.”

The first one is the biggest shock to your system. Seungcheol’s hand comes down with unbelievable force, full palmed and encompassing your entire ass cheek. You yelp loudly, fingernails digging into your arms. Immediately, tears spring into your eyes. You were just wondering why he decided to do only ten, but now it’s clear to you that even ten will be more than anything you can withstand.

“O-one.” You immediately choke out. “Thank you, sir.”

The second one marrs your other asscheek, stinging just as much, and your entire face scrunches as you cry out. You writhe where you’re draped over his lap. Your skin is screaming, and you already feel dizzy.

“Two.” You heave, the very air feeling like torture on your skin.

“Two what?” Seungcheol snaps. “Already forgetting the rules? Don’t make me start over, princess.”

You shake your head immediately, trying to take long breaths. “I’m sorry, sir. Thank you. Thank you.”

You whisper it again, and again, even as he lands more spanks on your ass. It feels heated now, like it’s on fire, and by the time you reach eight, you are lightheaded, sobbing openly, poor pussy clenching around nothing as the sensitivity spreads all the way down your thighs as well.

Seungcheol tuts and sighs, you can hear him over the sound of your own cries. You lurch when he caresses your stinging skin. He reaches down, one thick finger sliding through your slit and pressing into your aching nub. Your eyes roll, the feeling so intense that you can barely process it. You’ve been edged before, so many times, you’ve been overstimulated and wanting, but never has it felt this divine, the pleasure curling around the tendrils of pain running through your body. Seungcheol dips a finger into your squelching hole, sinking it in to the last knuckle, and you wail at the feeling.

“So wet, baby.” He coos. “Greedy little thing, you even enjoy your punishment.”

“I’m sorry.” You whimper, trying everything in your power to not buck back into his finger. When he pulls out, you almost cry, but he wastes no time, using that already wet hand to spank you again, just as harsh, not losing steam at all.

“N-nine.” You weep. “Thank you, sir.”

You almost feel like you’re seeing spots in your vision. Seungcheol reaches between your thighs again, like he knows this is becoming too much. He cups your pussy, sliding his fingers through the sopping mess side to side, just enough to stimulate your clit.

“Last one, princess.” He encourages. “Ready?”

You nod weakly, voice cracking when you cry out again as his hand meets your ass one last time. You choke out the number, the thank you. You’re openly tearful, face nearly as wet as your cunt, and finally Seungcheol moves. He lifts you up, placing you very gently on your back in the center of the mattress. You feel his lips on your forehead, and you bask in the feeling.

“Such a good girl.” He says finally, hand caressing through your sweaty hair. “You took that so well, baby.”

You keen, pussy clenching desperately around nothing.

“‘M your good girl.” You slur.

You don’t see the fond smile on his face, eyes soft with affection. He kisses your forehead, your cheeks, any part of you he can reach.

“Yes, you are.” He reassures you. “My perfect girl. Your first time and you did so good.”

You whine, shaky hands reaching up to claw at his shirt. He takes the hint, sitting back to tug it off, followed by his sweatpants. His cock bobs up, thick and hard, leaking copious amounts of precum.

“I think you deserve my cock now, princess.” He hums. “For being such a good girl.”

You nod eagerly, spreading your legs before he can even do it for you. He settles between them, running the angry, throbbing head through the sticky mess in your slit. He does that a few times, coating his shaft until it’s glistening, before finally reaching down and nudging the entrance. When he slides in, your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling at the feeling. Your ass still stings, especially where it rubs on the sheets, but it sends pleasant, burning tendrils shooting through your skin, and it adds to how sensitive you already are. It does nothing but augment your arousal even more. You moan wantonly as Seungcheol bottoms out, and you hear him softly curse.

“Perfect little cunt.” He groans. “Tight as anything even after I’ve fucked it for so many years. You’re molded to me, aren’t you baby?”

You nod eagerly as he starts moving, your moans punched out of your throat with every thrust, little ‘uh, uh, uh’s that only seem to spur him on more. You’re dripping consistently, wetting his cock as it rams in and out of you at a punishing pace. Every slam of his hips into you jolts your body, your breasts bouncing, and his hungry eyes train on every movement.

“You’ve got the prettiest tits, baby.” He grunts, one hand reaching up to pinch harshly at your left nipple and tug. You cry out. Then, he lets it go, reaching a hand back and bringing it down to harshly slap the swell of it. You gasp.

“Good?” He rasps. You nod enthusiastically and arch up, tempting him more. He groans and does it again, the sting making your eyes roll.

“Dirty slut.” He grits out. “You love this. Love getting slapped around, don’t you?”

You’re so far gone as he rams into you, nearly delirious with it. Even after so long of being together, there are things you’re discovering not only about Seungcheol, but about yourself as well. You’re sinking into the depths of depravity, and you want to fall further into it. So you blink wetly up at your boyfriend, eyes wide and big.

“Only if daddy does it.”

Seungcheol’s hips stutter. You can see the shock pass over his face, but it hardens immediately. His pace slows. He slams his hips into yours and stays there, leaning down closer to you.

“What did you just say?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, clenching wildly around his suddenly still cock. “Only wanna be slapped around by daddy.”

You can see, in real time, Seungcheol’s eyes darken as his pupils dilate. He bites the plump of his bottom lip. Beside your head, his hands fist the sheets tightly.

“You’re playing a dangerous game.” He grits, voice low and brassy. You swallow tightly.

“You don’t like it?”

The corner of his mouth twitches. He pulls out slowly until only the head of his cock is snug inside you. Then, he lurches forward, slamming into you so hard your whole body jerks. You gasp.

“I love it, baby.” He does it again. “Maybe a little too much.”

You can’t speak, all the breath knocked straight out of your lungs with every harsh, deep, slow thrust of Seungcheol’s hips. His head smooches the opening of your cervix, a shooting sensation through your lower abdomen that makes you gush around his thick cock. You feel his hand encircle your neck, and your toes curl in anticipation.

“You’re gonna be a good girl for Daddy then, sweetheart?” Another thrust. You feel your hair brush the headboard as your body is pushed up by sheer force. You nod vigorously, unable to say the words. His grip on the sides of your throat tightens, and you start to feel a little lightheaded.

His pace is brutal, picking up speed as he slams into you over and over. He uses his free arm to tuck just above your head so you don’t slam into the bed frame, but he doesn’t let up even once. He mutters the most filthy, unbearable things in your ear, telling you how you’re his perfect little cocksleeve, made to take him whenever he wants it, no questions asked. That he has trained your pussy to be this way, the perfect little slut for him. You moan whenever he loosens his grip on your neck, choking out how much you love getting fucked hard by daddy, how you’re just a hole for him to fuck and use, and when you can’t take it anymore, you ask him the golden question.

“Can I cum, daddy?”

His thrusts immediately get harsher. “Don’t you fucking dare.” He grits. “You think you deserve to, after cumming without permission? I’ve barely forgiven you for that, baby. You’ve got a lot of making up to do before you get a reward.”

You wail, chest heaving as you clamp desperately around his throbbing, huge cock. You know he’s right. You’ve been bad, and some spanking and one offering of your wet pussy isn’t enough to earn you forgiveness. So you don’t protest. You don’t ask again. You only agree.

“I’m sorry for asking, daddy.” You babble. “You’re right, I don’t deserve it. I’m just daddy’s little cum dump. I’ll take whatever daddy will give me.”

Seungcheol’s groan is broken. “God, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but I love it, sweetheart. Being such a perfect girl for me, fuck.”

You shake and cry as he fucks into you some more, your head now tilting forward as he folds you closer and closer to the headboard, crowding you against it. You can’t barely breathe at the force. And finally, finally, his movements turn sloppy.

“Think you should be allowed to take my cum?” He grits out. “Feels awfully like a reward, no? Have you earned it, baby?”

Your face crumples. You want to feel it inside you so bad, the heat of his release warming your insides. But you know what he wants to hear, you know you haven’t been good enough to deserve a big reward like that.

“No, daddy.” You whimper. “I don’t deserve it. I haven’t been good.”

Seungcheol’s smirk is sick. He licks over his bottom lip. “You’re so self aware tonight.” His tone is near-mocking, and it makes you tighten pathetically.

When he abruptly pulls out, it feels like getting your insides ripped from you. His hand moves rapidly over his wet cock, and he shuffles up until he’s straddling your torso.

“Open your mouth.” He grits. You immediately obey, sticking your tongue out. Your eyelids flutter when the first rope of it hits your lips, dripping over your tongue. Some of it splatters on your cheek, but you manage to catch most of it as he groans and shudders above you. You can’t take your eyes off him, sweaty and shaky, muscles shifting under his pale skin as he rides his high. Your poor pussy clenches around nothing, deprived so suddenly of the intense pleasure. You swallow every last drop, using your fingers to collect whatever your mouth missed and popping it between your lips. Seungcheol is heaving as he shifts back.

Even though your legs are shaky and you feel dizzy, you manage to sit up, making wide, pleading eyes at your boyfriend.

“Can I clean you up?”

You can see how soft and fond his smile is, the little dimple indenting his cheek with it. He sits back leaning on his hands and nods.

“Go ahead, baby.”

You settle between his legs, using little kitten licks to clean your mess, and some of his, off his soft cock. It twitches under your ministrations, already getting half hard as you keep going. He sighs and hums approvingly, running a soft hand through your hair. This was half your motive, anyway, because you like to see this power you have over him. He’s in control, always, but his dick hardens at your very touch, and that makes you giddy.

He pulls you away with a gentle tug on your hair. You lick your lips for any remnants of his taste, blinking eagerly up at him.

“Lay back now.” He whispers. “I’m not done playing with that pretty cunt.”

He sits with your legs framing his hips, laid back on the mattress. You look up at him half with anticipation and half with hesitation, because you know he will toy with you until you’re begging to cum, and even then, you don’t know if he will let you.

He runs his hands gently up your thighs, delicate brushes that only wind you up more. You try to lay perfectly still, knowing he doesn’t like it when you’re impatient. He massages the creases of your thighs, playing with your pussy lips, stroking over them softly. You’re already sensitive from the harsh fucking he gave you just earlier, so you’re twitching a little before he has even properly touched you. You don’t want to beg, mostly because you still think you’re not entitled to it. This is for him. He wants to play with you, it’s not for your pleasure.

(You both know that it is.)

Finally, his fingers slide through your slit, parting your lips to open you up. Your hole quivers, twitches, and he watches it with heated eyes. He hums and his eyes are reverent as he traces the lines of your pussy. He nudges your clit just barely, and you let out your first, tiny moan.

“Don’t hold back, baby.” He coos. “You let me know whenever it feels good.”

You comply beautifully, little whimpers and sighs that accompany every touch of his fingers over your aching center. He takes his time as he toys with your clit, rubbing, flicking, pinching it until it is swollen and throbbing under his fingers. He circles your opening to collect the wetness, using it to smear over the rest of your cunt and leaving you wet all over. When you feel like your skin is quietly buzzing, hypersensitive because of his touches, he finally dips into your entrance, sliding his index finger in to the last knuckle. You sigh in palpable relief, clenching hard around the digit.

“Yes.” A tear slips down the side of your face. “Thank you, daddy.”

He likes that, because he moves it the exact way you want it, curling it and probing your most sensitive spot. He adds another quickly, watching every shift in your face as you swallow his fingers greedily. Two of his thick fingers means a stretch, the kind that you love, and when he scissors them inside you, you moan loudly.

After your last failed orgasm, this one builds too quickly. Your face pinches, your legs stiffening as you hold back. Seungcheol notices, and it only makes him finger you harder. You whine in protest.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He goads you.

“Feels-” You almost choke as he curls both fingers hard into your sweet spot. “Feels so good. Please.”

“Please what?”

You buck your hips into him, self control slipping. “Please, can I cum, daddy?”

Seungcheol hums, as if contemplating. His fingers don’t slow for a single second.

“I don’t know. Do you deserve it?”

Your face crumples. You want to, you do. But the submissive, depraved part inside you shakes its head. You know if you are to cum, you want it to be on his cock. So you squeeze your eyes shut and whimper out a little ‘no’.

“Then keep taking it like a good girl.” Seungcheol responds. You know he likes that you’re depriving yourself of this. It strikes a sick part of him. The sounds of his fingers fill the room, filthy, sopping noises that come from his digits slamming into you over and over. You are panting heavily, gripping the sheets so hard that you’re almost afraid you will rip them, toes curled and legs stiff, doing everything in your power to not gush over his fingers, to prove to him that you can take whatever he will give you and you won’t do anything you’re not allowed to.

Seungcheol pulls out his fingers just when you think you’re reaching your limit. His wet hand comes down with a harsh spank on your tingling pussy. You scream. He does it two more times, and you weep through it. Finally, you can’t take it anymore.

“Please.” You sob. “Please, daddy. Need your cock. Wanna cum on it, please.”

By this time, he is throbbing hard again, and he wastes not even a single second, groaning as he tugs your body down and stuffs your aching cunt full of himself once again. His pace from the start is rough and fast. There’s no indulgence in him anymore. Watching you shake and tremble under him as he abused your pussy must have been enough, because he is nothing but primal need now. He’s so hard it’s almost painful, like you’re being impaled, but the relief of the stretch has you wailing loudly. The room is dense with the smell of sweat, sex and cum, noises picking up as he fucks you the way you need. Your mind blanks, focused on nothing but the wonderful feeling of it. Your body sings, glows, buzzes with anticipation because this time, you know he will let you reach your peak.

You don’t even have to ask. He cups your jaw, tilts your head and slots his lips into yours. He kisses you until you can’t breathe, your walls spasming hard around him, more than ready, as he whispers.

“Cum.”

You nearly black out.

It’s less like a wave and more like an electric shock, shooting through your body and freezing every nerve inside you. Your breath catches and your lungs scream. You cry and wail through it, not even caring how you sound as you gush around Seungcheol’s cock. He rubs harshly over your poor clit, prolonging an already intense high. You arch so deeply you feel like your soul is leaving your body. You babble nonsense, a mix of swear words, thank yous, and incoherent phrases. Seungcheol holds you down after a bit, draping his weight over you to ground you, and it’s such a welcome feeling that your whole body relaxes into it. When the roaring in your ears lessens, you hear his endless praises, telling you how good you are, how sexy and perfect, cumming so beautifully like that. He thrusts shallowly into you, not even properly leaving your cunt, rutting into you so you’re not empty for a single second.

“That was divine, sweetheart.” He sighs. “So pretty when you cum. You want another reward for being such a good girl? You want my cum?”

You’re already nodding before he even finishes speaking, blinking your tear-heavy eyelids.

“Please, daddy. Need it.”

He shushes you, brushes the hair off your face and presses his forehead to yours.

“No more begging, baby. You deserve it.”

And then he floods you, two or three more thrusts until you feel warmth coat your insides. It’s perfect, it’s everything you could’ve asked for and more. He empties his balls into you, thrusting until it dampens into a slow grind, plugging his cum inside your thoroughly fucked out hole.

It’s silent for a long time before Seungcheol moves. Your chests rise and fall together, slowly catching your breaths. He’s draped over you still, and it feels so reassuring that you can’t help but whine in protest when he moves. It makes him chuckle.

“If you get cold like this, your muscles will be very sore in the morning, sweetheart.” He reasons. He would know, the gym freak that he is, so you curl into yourself as he trudges into the bathroom. You can hear water running, and a familiar fruity aroma quickly drifts into the room through the open door. He’s running you a bath.

The warm water is like balm on your skin as he carries your body into it. You moan appreciatively, letting your boyfriend knead and press into your thighs. His front presses against your back as he slowly works over you in blissful silence, laying tiny kisses on your shoulders as he works. After a while, he finally speaks.

“So,” he begins, “what happened at work today?”

You blink, thinking. After a few seconds, you giggle.

“Honestly, I don’t even care anymore.”

That makes him laugh. “Well, I guess that’s a job well done for me.”

You turn in his arms just a bit to lay a kiss on his lips, and he returns it so softly and sweetly that you almost want to cry. This time from unadulterated bliss.

You don’t even know if you have the words to tell Seungcheol how much you love him. But when he squeezes your body tightly to his, you think you don’t have to. He already knows.

feedback is appreciated! <3

[bleudandelion]

TAKEN CARE OF | KMG

Minors do not interact (18+)

The hot water hit your back the second you stepped under the shower, almost painfully hot at first, but after the exhausting week you’d had, it felt more comforting than anything else. Steam slowly filled the bathroom until the mirror fogged completely, the air thick and heavy around you.

You tilted your head forward with a quiet sigh, letting the water hit directly against the ache sitting between your shoulder blades. God, it felt good.

You were so focused on the heat easing the tension from your body that you almost missed Mingyu’s voice coming from the bedroom.

“Babe,” he called out, “you didn’t bring the new towel, right?”

Your eyes blinked open. “…Oh yeah. I forgot.”

You heard him laugh softly from outside. “Again?”

“Can you come in and put it on the handle for me?”

“Okay, I’m coming in.”

A second later, the bathroom door opened, followed immediately by his confused voice.

“Babe?” he said, coughing lightly from the steam. “Are you okay? Why does it feel like a sauna in here?”

“Oh, it’s for my back,” you answered, still standing under the water. “Just trying to decompress the pain a little.”

“How hot are we talking about here?” he muttered.

You heard the shower curtain move before he peeked inside. His brows immediately furrowed.

“Babe—”

The moment his hand reached through the water to touch your cheek, he instantly flinched.

“Jesus Christ!” Mingyu jerked his hand back dramatically. “You’re gonna get boiled at this point.”

You laughed quietly. “No, I’m not. I’ve done this a million times and I’m still alive.”

“That does not make it normal.”

Still smiling, you turned around slightly to lower the temperature to something more comfortable, but the second you did, Mingyu saw your back.

His eyes widened immediately.

“Oh my God.”

“What?”

“Your back!”

Before you could even react, he had already stepped fully into the shower stall with you, not even caring that his shirt and sweatpants were getting soaked.

Your entire back was flushed bright red from the heat.

“How are you still alive?!” he said in genuine disbelief, his hand hovering over your skin carefully like he was scared touching it would hurt.

“I’m serious, Gyu. I’m fine, really.”

He looked at you like he absolutely did not believe a single word coming out of your mouth.

Without answering, he reached over your shoulder and turned the temperature down another notch.

“There,” he muttered. “More like a human.”

You sighed softly when the water cooled a little, finally turning your head to look at him properly.

Mingyu was so much taller than you that whenever you looked up at him like this, his jawline was always the closest thing in your view. So you lifted yourself slightly on your tiptoes and pressed a small kiss against it.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I’ll tone it down next time I need it again.”

The thing was, Mingyu genuinely hadn’t registered the fact that you were naked when he stepped into the shower.

All he could think about was the dangerously hot water turning your back red enough to concern him down to his bones.

But now?

Now you were standing directly in front of him, wet skin glistening under the shower light, head tilted back to look at him with those soft eyes of yours while apologizing over something that wasn’t even really your fault.

And suddenly, it became impossible not to notice you.

The water slid down your chest slowly, your nipples beginning to harden from the cooler temperature he forced onto you. Further down, your body was hidden slightly by the angle, but he knew every inch of you by memory alone.

Beautiful. Warm. Completely his.

Like a heaven-sent goddess he was meant to worship and take care of.

Mingyu let out a quiet breath before sliding one hand to your waist while the other moved to your neck and up along your jaw, tilting your face slightly so you wouldn’t have to crane your neck too much to look at him.

Then he pulled you closer.

You immediately whined when his soaked clothes pressed against your body.

“Gyu,” your hand reaching back to touch his arm. “You’re gonna get wet.”

His lips curled into a smirk, face close enough for you to feel his breath.

“I don’t mind.”

You felt his lips brush slowly beneath your ear, warm and lingering.

“How about,” he murmured against your skin, “I help you decompress your fatigue with something else, hmm?”

Your breath caught slightly when his hand slid from your waist to your stomach, moving lower slowly, while the other drifted down from your jaw to your chest, giving your breast a small squeeze that made you sigh softly.

“What do you have in mind?” you whispered, already melting into his touch.

You always knew your boyfriend was a giver through and through.

Mingyu liked taking care of people—especially you.

Whether it was small things like drying your hair for you when you were too tired, or bigger things like staying up all night beside you after stressful days, he genuinely loved being needed by the people he cared about.

And that extended to moments like this too.

He liked making you feel good. Liked making you relax while he handled everything for you. He wanted you to be comfortable and safe. You could always tell how much pride he took in being able to do that for you.

So tonight, you let him.

Because your body needed it.

And because you knew it made him happy too.

“Gyu…” you breathed softly when his fingers finally slid between your thighs, rubbing slow circles against your clit like he was asking permission before giving you more.

Your lashes fluttered as you looked up at him.

“Please.”

His expression softened instantly.

“Okay, baby,” he whispered, kissing your temple gently. “M’gonna make you feel good. Promise.”

He kissed along your neck slowly after that, soft lips and little sucks against damp skin while his fingers finally pushed inside you.

You both sighed at the same time.

His fingers were thick enough that even one already made you feel full, stretching you slowly while he pumped in and out at an unhurried pace. You could feel every drag of his fingers, every careful curl.

Mingyu knew your body too well.

Knew exactly what kind of touch you needed tonight.

Not rough. Not rushed.

Just enough to slowly pull every ounce of tension from your body.

His free hand lazily massaged your breast while he worked his fingers deeper inside you, occasionally pinching your nipple gently just to hear the soft sounds falling from your lips.

And God, he loved hearing you like this.

Completely relaxed for him.

Letting him take control while you simply enjoyed everything he gave you.

He kissed and sucked at your neck again, softer this time, licking over the spots he kissed too hard before adding another finger inside you.

The stretch made your thighs twitch instantly.

“Mhmm—Gyu…”

“I know, baby,” he murmured against your skin.

His fingers pumped slowly but deliberately, thumb circling your clit in steady motions while your walls tightened around him more and more with every passing second.

He could hear it in your breathing.

Feel it in the way your body trembled slightly against his.

Your orgasm was getting close.

“Let go, baby,” he whispered softly. “I got you.”

Something about those words completely undid you.

Your body tensed before melting all at once, pleasure washing over you so intensely that it almost made your knees weak. Mingyu immediately tightened his arm around your waist to hold you steady while his fingers kept moving through it, coaxing you through every wave.

And just like that, the tension that had been sitting in your body all week slowly melted away.

“Jesus…” you laughed weakly afterward, your head falling back against his shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”

Mingyu grinned against your hair before kissing your lips softly.

“I know,” he murmured smugly. “But you love it.”

You laughed quietly. “That’s true.”

After a moment, he pulled back slightly to look at you again—and immediately frowned when he noticed your back was still red, even if it wasn’t nearly as bad as before.

He groaned dramatically.

“Next time I’m buying you those heat patches for your back.”

“You say that like I’m eighty.”

“At this point, maybe you are.” He leaned down to kiss the top of your wet head. “Seriously though, don’t do that again.”

“No promises.”

Another groan left him instantly.

“At least don’t make it lava temperature again. I don’t want you turning into a soup.”

You burst into laughter at that, and seeing the serious look still stuck on his face, you lifted both hands in surrender.

“Fine. Next time I’ll tone it down.”

“Good.”

After a moment, Mingyu reached for your body wash from the corner shelf, squeezing some into his palm before rubbing it gently over your skin.

“At this point, I should just shower again,” he muttered while looking down at his soaked clothes, though he didn’t sound annoyed about it at all.

You laughed softly when he turned you back under the water afterward, carefully rinsing the soap from your body.

You just smiled to yourself, leaning back against his chest slightly. “I think you should.”

Your boyfriend was perfect for you and you loved it.

[goldenhourology]

SAVE THE DATE.

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers

summary: 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend — before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernon’s place and be your date. this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.

warnings: oral (f!recieving), fingering, 69ing, unprotected sex, reader on top, praise, mingyu has boyfriend dick<3, sub-ish!mingyu, also power bottom!mingyu 👍, multiple sex scenes, marijuana smoking/shotgunning, marijuana-induced horniness lol, one bed trope, forced proximity, miscommunication, HEAVY mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.9k

note: first things first, APOLOGIESSSSS for this taking so long. I've had a lot going on (which I know just about everyone says) and I was lowkey struggling to write this, even tho I was so amped for it. nevertheless, I'm so glad I was able to focus and finish it, because I care so much for these two and I desperately wanted to share their story with you 💓 per usual, please expect angst with your smut, and if you cry, I will not judge you and honestly would love to hear it lol. enjoy friends! (taglist posted at the bottom.)

in rotation: bmf, sza / mona lisa, mxmtoon / gorgeous, taylor swift / moonstruck, enhypen / finally // beautiful stranger, halsey

Your mom had told you that the friends you make in your first year of college stay with you for life, but you didn’t expect that when you met Vernon. He had been shy, refusing to speak to anyone in your orientation group, but knowing glances turned into sitting next to each other, which then had you both whispering jokes back and forth, until finally, he told you his name. Hansol Chwe to be exact, but he insisted on “just Vernon.” By the second semester of freshman year, you both had become inseparable. He was your best friend, been with you through some of the toughest moments of your adult life, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Vernon’s friendship survived through many of your boyfriends, and you knew he’d outlast many more. He experienced some of the worst ones – a.k.a. the men who refused to believe you two were just friends – and also the boring ones – the one guy who used you to get to him. But none of them had pissed him off more than your most current breakup: the man who was three years your senior and cheated on you with a 22-year-old. You assumed by age 27, you’d know how to pick ‘em, but that was clearly wrong.

Now you were left to your own devices with five weddings to attend this year. In retrospect, maybe there was a few you could’ve skipped, but you hated saying no in situations like this. You had agreed to go to all of them with your now ex-boyfriend in mind, placing a 2 on the invite’s attending line. Per usual, Vernon had stepped up and begrudgingly offered himself to be your date.

So why were you now meeting up with Kim Mingyu to discuss the dates of said five weddings?

You first met Mingyu when Vernon joined a fraternity in sophomore year to make more friends. “I can’t just have you. I need to have at least some friends that are dudes,” he said, which made you reply, “That’s the toxic masculinity talking.” And boy, had Mingyu been the epitome of that statement. Him and Vernon had connected instantly, sharing the same major and an affinity for art girls. You had never really gotten along with him like Vernon had hoped, but he was … attractive, to say the least.

Okay, maybe you had a crush on him. You had eyes.

But it was college and you both were on the cusp of 20. It was so hard to confess feelings back then, especially to someone like Kim Mingyu. Who you didn’t particularly enjoy talking to in the first place. However … he was probably one of the hottest men you’d ever seen; made in a lab for every young girl’s fantasy. Sometimes you couldn’t help but just stare at him, admiring his perfect teeth or the way his honey-gold skin shined in the afternoon sunlight. (You thanked your lucky stars that Vernon joined the college football team alongside Mingyu, just so you could  secretly ogle him during practice.)

Suffice to say, you did eventually hook up. In the most cliche way possible, you had both gotten a little too tipsy at the first frat party of senior year and wound up in Mingyu’s dorm, locking out his roommate for the entire night. It almost felt weird, realizing your attraction had been reciprocated, but he hardly said a word to you come morning. In fact, he never mentioned it again, period, choosing to avoid you except in group settings with Vernon. You weren’t a fool; you were quick to realize it meant nothing to him, just another notch on his bedpost.

Mingyu was every girl’s dream, but Mingyu was also uncommitted.

And he was walking towards you right now.

You looked up from your phone after stalking – looking through Mingyu’s Instagram. You never followed him, never checked in on him after graduation, but you knew how close he still was with Vernon. He even posted a picture with him recently. You rolled your eyes. Despite his long hair, you recognized Mingyu instantly as he went up to the barista and ordered a coffee. You studied him for a moment, noticing that there was a curl to his hair and the way those dark stands hung around his eyes. His skin was as perfect as ever and – goddamn, did he get bigger? He was wearing a jacket over his t-shirt and you could still tell how big his muscles were.

When he finally looked over his shoulder and your eyes connected, his face remained unchanged, if not a little awkward. He walked up to you, rubbing at the back of his neck, and said your name as if it were a question. “Yeah. Hi, Mingyu,” you replied with a wave. “It’s been a while.”

“Five years since graduation,” he added, pulling out the chair across from you and plopping down. “So you stopped putting those blonde highlights in your hair?”

Your eye twitched. Before you could spit out a response, a cute, dark-haired barista came over and set a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, completely ignoring that your own was practically empty. Mingyu flashed her a smile, showing off his pretty canines as she walked away. You frowned.

Vernon had told you last night that Mingyu wasn’t the same guy you knew in college, but you begged to differ.

Turning back to you, he took a sip from his mug and asked, “Why did you want to meet up again?”

“Because my best friend is an asshole and you lost a bet.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He nodded.

You almost didn’t believe Vernon when he told you. You knew he didn’t exactly want to be your date to all these weddings and probably felt like he had to, but he did offer so you didn’t think much of it. Until he told you last week that he put all his guest invites on the line while playing a drinking game with Mingyu, which the latter lost. So now Kim Mingyu, your college one-night-stand that was scared of commitment, was committing to being your date to several weddings this year.

Kill me now, you thought.

“I thought drinking games and making silly bets like this didn’t happen once your frontal lobe formed,” you said, and his dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he cleared his throat and set the mug down again. “Men never really grow up.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back in your chair. “Apparently,” you muttered under your breath. “How do you have the time to actually commit to this? Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?”

“One,” he held up a single finger, “I take bets very seriously and I’m not a sore loser. It’s only removing five weekends out of the year for me. No biggie. And two,” he lifted another finger, “No.”

You raised a brow. “Well, I guess that answers all my questions.”

Mingyu stared at you for a moment, running those two fingers over his bottom lip. You suddenly had a flashback to that night, remembering his hands all over you, remembering his fingers plunging inside and curling –

Not the time.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend? Why put down two people on these RSVPs you sent back and then force just anybody to be your date?” He fought the urge to smile, trying to dig a little deeper into you. You weren’t falling for it this time. “I love the guy, but I know Vernon wasn’t your first choice to accompany you.”

“My ex and I broke up,” you replied. “Not much to it.”

Intrigued, he sipped his coffee again. “Why?”

“It’s none of your business, Mingyu.”

“Well, as your new date –”

“Drop it,” you said, voice taking on a new tone. “I’m serious.”

Mingyu raised his hand in surrender, and you shook off your anger. This was supposed to be a friendly, quick conversation, but it was seemingly moving off the rails. A sigh escaped your mouth before you asked, “So you said this is only taking five weekends out of the year. What do you do with your time? Are you working?”

“I thought I answered all your questions.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He chuckled softly, exposing those canines once again. His smile was so … ugh, you needed to stop getting distracted. “I work at a restaurant four days a week as a cook, and then teach flag football at a rec facility the rest of the time. I’ve been trying to save up to open my own restaurant for years, but I got the time to be a makeshift wedding date.”

You knew Mingyu had always loved to cook – you remembered when he’d been the resident chef at the fraternity – but to hear he was still passionate almost … melted you a little. Almost. You were dedicated to not being too swayed by Mingyu’s pretty words. This was a deal and that was the end of it.

“I see,” you nodded, uncrossing your arms to play with the handle of your still empty mug. “I’ve been working at the same marketing agency since college. Pays the bills, you know?”

Mingyu gave you a knowing look before running a hand through the long strands. “Always so committed.”

Your lips pursed. “One of us has to be.”

“Speaking of commitment,” he said without missing a beat, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “What are the dates for those weddings again?”

Save the Date for the wedding of Choi Seungcheol and Holland Levine: February 28th

It was a rainy Sunday in February. Your coworker, Choi Seungcheol, was getting married today at a local venue on the outskirts. His girlfriend, Holland – otherwise known as, Hinge Holland, when he met her on the dating app 3 years ago – was a little kooky and asked for them to be eloped that morning. Seungcheol was too in love to say no; he’d do anything she asked. They were married early morning, and lucky for you and Mingyu, all you had to attend was a reception. It was a nice way to test the waters of this deal before anything got too crazy. 

Mingyu had picked you up in his truck, and together struggled to help lift you inside with your dress and heels on. As he drove away from the city and into a more rural area, he commented, “Your coworker must be real whipped to agree to a reception here.”

“What are you talking about?” You looked through your phone for the address Seungcheol had sent you months ago. “I thought the reception was at some small venue.”

Mingyu said your name, and you glanced over, seeing the smile on his face. “It’s a VFW owned by someone in his girlfriend’s family.”

You realized just how right he was when he pulled up to a spot in a VFW parking lot, seeing a crowd of Holland’s family pour into the post. You knew what the inside of a VFW looked like; you had your sweet 16 at one. But going to a wedding reception at one was a whole different story. Were the walls so old that they’d crumble once the DJ dared to play Dancing Queen?

Rain pounded from the sky, making the cold February wind even more chilly. Mingyu rounded the truck and opened your door, making sure to hold an umbrella above your head as you slid out of the seat. He looked … okay, he looked extremely handsome in his suit, tailored exactly to his body. You were in an old, off-the-shoulder black dress with mesh sleeves that were doing nothing in this wet cold. This wedding had crept up on you, and before you knew it, you remembered you didn’t have any new dresses to wear. And while it looked nice, the dress just barely zipped and you had to keep pulling up the neckline. Clearly, you had grown a bit since the last time you worn this. Probably in college.

Mingyu was staring at you now, letting his eyes wander down, and you were yanking at the neckline again. He didn’t deserve to see more of your cleavage. He whispered, “You look …”

“Just come on,” you cut him off, tugging him in the direction of the VFW. He struggled to keep up for a moment, rushing to hold the umbrella above both of you. 

As soon as you both walked inside, you realized just how dressed up you were compared to the place. The building looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1990s. There was, at least, a huge buffet-style food setup in the corner and a man so old that he probably had one foot in the grave behind the bar. A sign in front of him said, OPEN BAR, written in thick sharpie. Various family members were congregating at tables, while the DJ – who looked like a Pitbull impersonator – was setting up at the head of the room. 

Seungcheol ran over the second he saw you meandering through tables. He had the biggest smile on his face, tugging his new wife over to introduce her to you before wiggling his eyebrows at you when he noticed Mingyu on your arm. Even Holland couldn’t help but ogle him. Seungcheol was one of your closest coworkers, so it wasn’t weird when he asked, “Who’s the beefcake?”

Mingyu was too busy dealing with Holland’s questions to hear you reply, “Don’t ask. I’ve cycled through many options before I was forced to bring him.”

“I’m sure it was quite difficult for you,” he snorted, before carefully pulling his wife’s hand off of Mingyu’s and introducing himself. Not long after, he was ushering her away to start making speeches. 

You and Mingyu found your seat quickly, and luckily enough, you were sat with most of your coworkers. Every single one was looking at Mingyu like he was a piece of meat, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had a friendly conversation with each of them. You struggled to not roll your eyes. How was he perfect with everyone? Maybe your dislike of him was irrational and unwarranted, maybe he did change. But … ugh, could he fuck up for once?

Your coworker, Minghao, sat to your left, watching Mingyu converse with the young assistant – Amelia, right? – who was very clearly batting her eyes at him. Leaning towards you, Minghao whispered, “I thought you were bringing Vernon?”

Minghao was one of the few people you told about your breakup, as well as Vernon and of course, your girlfriends. It wasn’t like you to go around everywhere and post on social media about your breakup; it wasn’t anyone’s business. But Minghao gave great advice, and he was one of the first people that helped you get over the heartbreak. He wasn’t just a coworker. He became a trusted friend.

Turning your head, you said, “Would you believe me if I told you that he lost a bet?”

“Considering who you ended up with,” he chuckled, “I’d say it’s a win in your favor.”

“He’s not that great.”

“Then you might want to pull Amelia off of him before she starts sucking his face.”

The reception ended at an early hour thankfully. Most of the elderly guests were falling asleep anyway. Mingyu was a class act, per usual, trying to get you up and out of your seat to dance with him, but the last thing you wanted to do was dance to Toxic by Britney Spears in front of your boss at the marketing agency. Instead, he took the lead to asking Seungcheol’s mom to dance, and made Amelia’s day when he asked her to join. Minghao only continued to laugh when you rejected each of Mingyu’s advances.

Once 10 PM rolled around and you both were exiting the doors of the aging VFW, you noticed the rain hadn’t let up. In fact, it seemed to have gotten even worst. You had to run to Mingyu’s truck with him holding the umbrella above both of you and almost trip over your dress as you hopped up inside the cab. Assuming it would be fine to drive, just a few minutes in the rain left you both realizing that it might be extremely unsafe to drive back to the city in this weather. You really couldn’t argue with Mingyu when he suggested you stay the night at a motel right down the road. 

The woman behind the front desk at the motel was chewing so loud that you thought the wad of bubblegum between her teeth might be larger than your palm. She informed you both that the only rooms available were ones with a single queen-sized bed. As much as you desperately wanted two, you’d take what you could get. She started grabbing both of your informations to check in when a loud bolt of lightning cracked, followed by a crash of thunder. You instantly gripped Mingyu’s arm, and he paused signing his name to look down at you.

“Are you scared of thunder?” He asked playfully.

Realizing how tight you were holding on, you quickly removed your hand. “No, I’m … it’s fine.”

His bicep felt so much harder than anticipated. All muscle. 

Stop that.

The front desk attendant gave you an actual metal key to open your room, the number dangling from a kitschy pendant. This was the kind of motel where you needed to venture outside to get to your room, and with your arms locked together, Mingyu led you both through the pouring rain to the right building. He shoved the key in the lock, immediately opening the door and allowing you to walk inside first.

The room was smaller than expected. The heat was hardly circulating and you were still shivering. A queen-sized bed was situated in front of an old RCA TV, decorated with a comforter that looked strangely similar to the one from the 80s that your mom had given you when you first moved out. The room smelled like bleach and all you could hear was the rain on the roof. Noticing you shiver, Mingyu walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the heat.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, hugging your arms around yourself.

Mingyu pointed to the large window by the door. “I can’t drive in that. It takes an hour to get back to the city and I can hardly see the road.”

“Okay, well –”

Lightning struck again, painting the window white, and you jumped. Mingyu shook his head and walked over, closing the shades over the glass. He looked down at you, and you were acutely aware that he was the kind of person who could say everything just with his eyes. “Better?” He asked, a smile playing at his pink lips.

He was so close that you could smell his cologne and – god dammit, you were such a sucker for men that smelled good. He smelled like violets mixed with smokey sandalwood, spicy and musky. Whatever you were going to quip back died on your tongue, leaving you to reply, “I can’t sleep in my dress. I have nothing to wear to bed.”

Walking over to the tiny closet, Mingyu spotted a robe hanging up next to the vintage ironing board. He placed it in your arms and remarked, “Take a shower and put this on.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

He laughed. “No, you’re shivering and it’ll help warm you up.”

You nodded, heading off to the bathroom and shutting the door. As you slipped off your dress and let it pool onto the tile, you realized how antagonizing you were being for no reason. Mingyu had been nothing but nice to you, but you were suspecting him to switch-up at any moment. Maybe Vernon was right, or maybe you just needed to take a chill pill.

Mingyu was helping you out, after all.

After taking the warmest shower of your life and probably using all of the hot water in the motel, you walked out into the room with your robe tied firmly around your waist. The cotton smelled like mothballs and you hardly left an inch of skin showing. Granted you weren’t naked underneath, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your underwear. Again. After five years. 

He was wearing only a tank top and boxers while setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. You struggled to maintain focus with him looking … well, like that, and eventually spoke up, “What are you doing?”

He hardly jumped at hearing your voice. “I figured it would just be easier if I slept on the floor. Trust me, I’ve slept in far worse places.”

“Mingyu, you don’t have to do that,” you sighed, pulling back the covers and tossing the mismatching throw pillows on the floor. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but it’s just –”

Thunder clashed outside, sounding like pots and pans clanging together, rattling your bones.

Your eyes connected with Mingyu’s, and you pointed to the empty side of the bed. “Sleep in this bed right now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You both agreed – more like, you told Mingyu and he listened – to place a wall of pillows between you two, leaving you on the edges of the bed. You curled up into yourself, your spine facing him, as Mingyu laid on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose. The rain was so loud. The thunder was deafening. You considered plugging your fingers in your ears as you slept.

Mingyu was shifting on the small sliver of mattress he had, wishing internally that he brought a joint or two with him. This bed was so uncomfortable that he probably wouldn’t sleep. But hopefully, you would. Although that was seeming highly unlikely from the way your back tensed with every boom of thunder.

He watched you from the corner of his eye, and eventually, you did stop shaking. Soft snores filled the room, replacing the sound of the rain. And then Mingyu felt himself relax, swiftly falling asleep with his arm thrown above his head.

Despite the pillow wall you built, you woke up with your head on his chest.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked that day, but he couldn’t find the courage to finish his sentence.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Chan and Adrianna Olson: April 4th

Tapping your freshly manicured nails on your bare arm, you leaned against the passenger side door of your car and huffed. You uncrossed your arms, beginning to pace outside Mingyu’s apartment building. The ceremony today started in two hours and you were about ninety minutes from the venue. Not to mention, there was only a matter of time before one of his neighbors showed up, forcibly removing you from the parking spot in front of the building you definitely did not live in. What the hell was Mingyu doing anyway? He said he’d be down ten minutes ago. 

You tugged off your heels, realizing they’d be a bitch to drive in, and pulled your sneakers from the back seat. Your floral, strapless sundress blew in the Spring breeze. Your curls – that looked like they could’ve been done by a toddler – whisked off your bare shoulders as you stepped into your favorite Nikes. 

“Sorry.”

Popping your head up, you halted while shoving the back door closed. You blinked, assuming your eyes were deceiving you, but there he was, sprinting down the front steps of his building with freshly chopped hair.

Mingyu was quickly walking over to shove his duffle in your backseat, pulling at his tie, when you leaned in and placed your hand on his head. Yep, that was his real hair. Those long locks that had reached his chin were gone, replaced by a hairstyle that was similar to how he looked in college. 

“I know we’re running late,” he apologized, letting your fingers sink into the strands for a moment, “but do you have to –”

“This is not about that.” You removed your hand, leveling a look at him. “You cut your hair.”

Mingyu raised a brow. “It was getting long.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Why didn’t you warn me of your new look?”

“I didn’t think I had to?” He shrugged, genuinely confused as to why you were questioning him. “My hair had gotten even longer since February, so I just thought I’d freshen up for you –”

You completely missed his words – for you, he’d freshened up for you – because you were already interrupting him. “Well, it’s just – it might look weird in pictures because my hair is up and your hair is so short. And I’m already going to have so many people looking at us wondering why my ex, who’s name I put on the invite, isn’t here. And I just want to eliminate as much attention as possible. And, well – and –”

Mingyu placed both hands on your shoulders. His palms were large, practically burning into your exposed skin. “Are you overthinking?”

“No, I …”

When your voice trailed off, Mingyu hesitated for a moment longer and then slid his hands off. “Vernon told me that you dated the groom. Chan, right?”

Of-fucking-course, Vernon told him. Your lips pursed before you replied, “We were friends before that, and we only dated for like a couple months in college. I introduced him to the woman he’s marrying.”

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“I think I have a lot of reasons to be nervous these days.” You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to come up with another quippy remark, but it seemed he contested and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit. The same tailored suit he wore to the wedding in February, a few loose threads at the seams. “Let’s get going. We’ll be in the car for a while,” you said, rounding your car and hopping inside the driver’s seat.

As Mingyu dealt with finding room for his duffle in your trunk, you took this small second to text Vernon.

You: your friend is infuriating

You: also I’m never going to forgive you for telling him that I dated chan

Vernon: you’ll get over it lol

Vernon: is that the only reason why he’s infuriating?

You: HAIRCUT

Vernon: oh I probably should’ve told you about that when I saw him last week

Vernon: sorry :/

You closed your texts when Mingyu hopped in the passenger seat, turning on your music to drown out your thoughts. The drive was long and you were lucky that you got to the venue with ten minutes to spare. You parked the car in a haste, running to your back seat and quickly tugging your heels back on. You chucked your sneakers onto the car floor, almost hitting Mingyu in the face when he went to grab his phone from the same area. Locking your car, you grabbed his arm and yanked, both of you running towards the venue attached to a pretty hotel. Mingyu, even with his long legs, was struggling to keep up. He was also slightly impressed that you could run so fast in heels, and that was definitely the only reason why he was staring at your legs. He wasn’t admiring how long they looked when the wind lifted your skirt and he got a flash of your calf.

Even from your seat in the back of the ceremony, you could see Chan’s face light up as Adrianna was escorted down the aisle. She was wearing a vintage wedding dress, the veil sheer enough to see how beautiful she was underneath, and Chan was eager enough to lift it as soon as they said, “I do.” Adrianna looked like she hadn’t aged a day since school, and you could probably say the same for Chan. But he did manage to finally remove the earrings he got six years ago, which made you giggle to yourself.

Mingyu pretended not to notice.

Most of the people at the wedding were old friends from undergrad, even a few Mingyu knew in passing. Every time you were approached, you prepared yourself for the same question: “Where is He Who Will Not Be Named?” Or, for those that actually knew Mingyu: “Since when did you know Gyu?” You weren’t sure how much longer you could fake a smile and laugh, pretend that your heart still wasn’t sore from the breakup, rehash the same words over and over again. It was tiring; you were tired. 

Same explanation. Same heartbreak. You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole planet knew of your breakup by now. You didn’t announce it anywhere, besides telling your family and close friends. It was natural for people to be curious; you had been with your ex for a couple years, enough for your family to assume that he’d propose. But then he cheated, and you found out, and you were left in pieces, tied to Kim Mingyu as your date for a full year of weddings.

You just didn’t want to keep on doing this, explaining yourself ten times over, realizing that everyone was looking at you with interest. Maybe a second glass of champagne would be a good distraction …

“Wanna dance?”

You looked up from the rim of your empty glass. Mingyu had knocked you out of your daze, laying out a hand for you to take. The reception was lively with family and friends mingling on the dance floor, but Mingyu had still noticed you alone at the table, lost in your thoughts. Had he always been this attentive, or was he just prone to watching you?

Ignoring your internal monologue, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. Just as Mingyu was about to place his hand on your waist, the song changed, switching to a more upbeat track you used to blast in college. You immediately started laughing at all the older folks trying to follow the beat, and then found Chan with his wife, shimmying on the dance floor. Mingyu pinched the bridge of his nose, but found himself beaming when he finally saw the smile grace your features. He didn’t let go of your hand, let you twirl him to the song that took you back to the musty basement of a frat party.

Chan, at some point, had managed to dance over in your direction, bumping into you with a big grin. “I knew all the alumni here would love this,” he shouted over the music. “Do you remember when you puked outside a window once at some party and you said that it was this song that induced it?”

You were surprised when Mingyu said, “Yes,” at the same time as you. Both you and Chan glanced at him, eyebrows raised, until he added, “That was at one of my parties. I cleaned your vomit off the windowsill!”

The four of you erupted in laughter. Even Adrianna remembered that party, considering that was the night you drunkenly introduced her to Chan. She eventually pulled you away from Mingyu, leading you towards her group of bridesmaids so you all could dance together. But your eyes couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s across the floor, and then he was looking at you, and – god dammit, staring at him felt like a crime you’d consider going to jail for.

Everyone was looking at him, but he was looking at you. 

Actually, Mingyu couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you. Not once.

He stared at you as if it was just you two, as if you were stripped bare before him, just for his eyes to see. You could tell from the way he bit his lip while smiling. He looked at you as if you were naked.

Soon enough, you were slipping through the crowd and by his side once again. He was now leaning against the wall by the open bar, nursing a scotch. The party was winding down; all the older family members had left, leaving Chan and Adrianna – plus a few other young couples – swaying to a classic Ed Sheeran song. It wouldn’t be long until they ended the night with Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. The time war nearing 11 PM. 

Slinking beside him, he offered the glass to you and you took a sip, wincing at the burn. You stuck out your tongue. “How can you drink that so smoothly?”

“Years of practice,” he replied, and then flicked your nose in a way that shouldn’t make you blush. But you definitely did. 

You blinked up at him, admiring how pretty he was in the faint, yellow light. Actually, he was pretty in every light, but you liked to find any excuse to admire him. Even if you denied it.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked then, digging your nails into your palms. So afraid of rejection after all these years, even though he agreed to be here. “I think the reception is going to end soon anyway.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He set his half empty glass on a random table and straightened his back before adding, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

God, you needed to get it together. Those words were the bare minimum, but when he said them in that slightly muffled voice, it made your nails pinch the inside of your hands harder.

You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, dragging up, up, up to your room on the seventeenth floor. Your eyes connected. A smile played at his lips. An unspoken tension brewing between the two of you. A feeling you didn’t want to be there in the first place, but something you couldn’t simply ignore. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not tonight. Not ever again.

He opened the door for you, allowing you to slip inside and grab your bag. While he rifled through his duffle, you brought your bag into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. You allowed yourself a moment to just breathe. Maybe if you kept exhaling like this, you would release all the tension from your body. You knew how silly it sounded, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning your face from side to side. Was it the makeup that made him look at you that way sometimes? Perhaps he still had a fondness for lipgloss, like he did back in the day.

When you finally stopped studying your appearance, you wiped off your makeup and tugged on a pair of loose pajamas. Wearing these would be so much more comfortable – and less awkward – than the robe you wore after the last wedding. You still had nightmares about that. Carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom, you expected to find Mingyu already in one of the two  full size beds, scrolling through his phone and ignoring the noise you naturally made. But he was on the deck just outside your room, smoke billowing from his mouth. 

You stood near the unoccupied bed, balancing on the balls of your feet, as you debated your options. A smart person would go right to sleep, leave him to his business. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Despite the slight warmth to the air, you threw on a hoodie, scared of the possibility of your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. You slid open the door and immediately closed it, preventing any smoke from getting into the room. He didn’t turn; he knew exactly who was behind him. His back muscles flexed underneath his suit jacket, the joint dangling between his lips as he prayed for his lighter to work again.

“You probably shouldn’t be smoking in this suit,” you said, saddling up beside him.

He chuckled, finally taking a long drag. “I promise to get it dry cleaned before our next adventure.”

Before our next adventure. You bit the inside of your cheek.

Your eyes didn’t leave the joint now sitting between two of his fingers. (Jeez, were they always that big?) He let more smoke filter from his lips and into the open air, clouding up the starry night sky. Without even looking at you, he asked, “Why are you staring?” His words hung in the silence for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

You shrugged. “Only once or twice with Vernon. Probably as freshmen.”

“You want me to show you how?”

Blinking at him, all you could do was dumbly nod. Mingyu laughed under his breath, fighting with his lighter again, before eventually holding the flame to the end. He then cautiously passed the joint over to you, allowing the filter to brush your lips. “Take it in your mouth,” he instructed, “now inhale.”

When you did as he asked, you must’ve inhaled far too deeply, or just didn’t exhale at the right time. Because then you were coughing, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, concern etched in his tone, and patted your back as you hacked up what felt like your left lung. His voice was soft, soothing, but you could hardly hear it through the ringing in your ears.

“Yeah,” you sighed, voice hoarse, “I’m definitely out of practice.”

As you stood up, his hand stayed on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing patterns. Your breath stilled as you looked up at him. Playing with the joint between his lips, he said, “Let me show you an easier way.”

“Okay,” you agreed, before your conscious could stop you.

You watched as he took a long pull from the joint, sucking it all in until you could see his eyes get a little pinker, and then moved closer to you. Instinctively, your eyes closed and your lips parted, welcoming the scent of him. His lips only lightly grazed yours as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, letting it engulf your very being, and you felt yourself start to relax. He craned back, grinning down at you, and it took everything within you to not ask for another hit right then. 

In the moonlight, you could see why you fell hard for Mingyu. He had only gotten more handsome since college. Light, in any form, was so kind to him, but with the stars hanging above his head … it allowed his dark hair to shine, casting a slightly blueish tone to his warm features. You could see the twinkling stars reflecting in his eyes, especially when he leaned back in, expelling more smoke into your mouth.

This felt too intimate. This felt like fucking.

Once you both were so high you could do nothing but laugh, Mingyu stubbed out the joint and you stumbled back into the room. You both were finally going to have a good sleep at one of these, especially since there were two beds. Rolling into your bed, you immediately burrowed under the covers as Mingyu took off his suit in the bathroom.

The last thing you expected was to feel him plop down in your bed. He was wearing so little that it made your thighs press together, or maybe that was just the weed talking. He was disoriented, laying halfway off the edge of your bed, staring at you as if you were the Mona Lisa. You huffed, “Mingyuuu. You need to get in your own bed.”

“Do you really want that though?”

His words made your eyes immediately snap open. A grin was tugging at his mouth again, his teeth sinking into that plush bottom lip. Oh, so also wanted … Oh.

You tried to sound cool and nonchalant, “Considering this is a full size bed, yeah.”

Even in the darkness, even with his back to the moonlight streaming through the glass door – his presence was making you nervous. His eyes weren’t leaving yours. You felt your hand inch over, your pinky curling around his.

“If I can be so honest with you,” he whispered, licking at the corners of his lips, “you are so beautiful that I want to kill any guy that has done you wrong.”

You exhaled, “Mingyu …”

He leaned in, smiling like he knew he caught you in his trap. “Yes?”

You were pretty sure that you knew Kim Mingyu by now. You knew that this would be just another night that meant nothing to him. No matter how much he “changed” in Vernon’s eyes, it was very clear to you that he remained uncommitted. But fuck it, your heart was still burning from the breakup, stinging from the memory of people uttering your ex’s name tonight. It was only going to be a kiss. Just something to soothe the pain.

He was so much closer now, invading your space, his hand completely eclipsing yours.  He smelled like marijuana and lingering cologne. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, but you didn’t. You let him kiss you, and god, it would be so much easier to dislike Mingyu if he didn’t kiss so well. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue was pushing into your mouth, his large body looming over yours as he pressed you into the mattress a little more. And you’re desperate for it; you couldn’t stop. This was supposed to be simple – just a kiss – but you could feel yourself falling under his spell, feel how his palms burned against your skin as they dragged down your torso. He explored your mouth like it was the first time, parting your legs to make room for himself on top of you. When his lips left yours, you almost let out a whine, but he helped take off your hoodie before reattaching his mouth to your neck. Those large hands snake under your shirt – up, up, and up – until he was cupping your breasts and you can feel how hard he is against your thigh.

Mingyu looked up at you as he kissed down your torso, his spit soaking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were still wearing. He lifted one of your legs, adjusting it so your thigh could rest comfortably on his shoulder and – shit, you knew where this was going. Reaching the waistband of your panties, he begged, “Let me go down on you.”

You mulled over his words. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” he grinned against your skin, meeting your eyes from between your legs. “But that’s a tomorrow problem. Please?” His head tilted. “Do I have to beg? I’m willing.”

You bit your tongue, egging him on a little as he nipped at the inside of your thigh. He bucked his hips once, them twice, trying to get the smallest bit of friction on his cock that was currently throbbing in his boxers. He grunted softly against your skin. 

“And if I say, ‘No?’” You asked with a raised brow.

He lifted his head and pouted his lips. After all these years, he still managed the perfect puppy dog eyes that could make just about anyone weak. “Don’t be mean,” he pleaded, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You like when I’m mean,” you quipped, giving him permission by helping him shimmy your panties off. He adjusted your legs again, presenting you like a meal.

“I do,” he chuckled, his breath ghosting over your pretty, pink folds. “Especially, when you act like you didn’t want me here in the first place.”

Before you can rebuttal, he’s pressing his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue up your slit to collect the wetness that gathered there. Just the small amount of attention had you keening, your hips jumping for more of him, and Mingyu was happy enough to oblige. His tongue flicked at your clit as he slid one single finger inside of you, testing your limits. Those puppy dog eyes lifted from between your thighs, wanting to see you crumble, knowing that it was him who made you like this. You sighed out his name, your hand coming down to tangle in his hair. And god, if Mingyu didn’t love that … he’d be a dead man. He groaned when he felt you tug at the strands, beginning to swirl his tongue in a circle around your puffy clit.

You couldn’t even prepare yourself when he shoved another finger inside, pumping them in and out at an unreasonably fast pace. But you were bucking into him, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered for him. It was too much but almost too little at the same time. You could practically feel him smile as he devoured you. The bed rattled against the wall when he ground his erection against the frame, so needy and aching. His plump lips suckled on your clit, your slick smearing over his face, but he didn’t want to miss a drop of you. He needed more of you, so he started curling three fingers inside of you, teasing that sweet spot.

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Mingyu. He knew what you could take.

“Mingyu,” you whined, and he glanced up at you again with the most fucked-out eyes imaginable. And still, he didn’t stop. “You’re gonna … I’m gonna cum so fast.”

He moaned into you, then begged, “Please. Need to taste you.”

He was so determined, so desperate to feel you shake and moan and cry until he was completely spent on the taste of you. And it wasn’t long before he got his wish: as he shoved those three fingers into you, grazing your g-spot while lapping at you like you were his last meal on death row. You unraveled on his tongue, muffling your cries for the rest of the people sleeping on your floor. Biting into your hand, you had physically restrain your body from shaking as your orgasm rocked through you, but Mingyu held you down with a gentle hand on your stomach.  He was staring at you again and you were staring at him and fuck, his half-closed eyes made him look like he was drunk on you. You could feel him smirking into your pussy as he collected every last drop of you, knowing that he did a good job. He sighed with relief when he could finally taste you again and again and again.

Once your body settled, you felt him start to tug at your shirt and kiss up your stomach. The thought of now having him inside you made your hands clench with excitement, but dear god, he just knocked the wind out of you and you weren’t sure how you could last. You were spent, tired, probably could just fall asleep right now.

You weren’t feeling his lips on your skin anymore, so you opened your eyes. The moonlight gave you just enough to see that, despite the raging boner he probably had, Mingyu was now snoring softly with his head resting on your hips. Brows raised, you almost couldn’t believe that this was the moment he decided to fall asleep, but you couldn’t deny that you had been on the verge of doing the same. 

Untangling yourself from him, you quickly cleaned yourself up and wiped his face clean with a washcloth. You sighed, using all the brute strength you had to haul him up on what was supposed to be your bed, and wrapped the covers around him. You admired him for a moment, your hand coming up to smooth back his dark hair. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than you cumming in his mouth. So you quickly moved away and slipped under the sheets of the other bed, using his snores as white noise.

The next morning, neither of you spoke of what happened.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you the moment Vernon introduced you two all those years ago, even when you disliked him. And slowly but surely, he was starting to realize it never truly went away.

Save the Date for the wedding of Joshua Hong and Jordan Lo: June 20th

Two months passed and the spring air turned sweltering. It was on days like this when you rolled the windows down and wasted gas just to get an overpriced iced coffee that you reminisced. You were taken back to a time when you waited by the curb as Vernon appeared from football practice, and even though he was sweaty, you still always agreed to drive him back to his dorm on the other side of campus. You would watch him say goodbye to his teammates and – shit, the light would catch, and suddenly you were looking at Mingyu wipe the sweat off his face while laughing with the quarterback and –

Now you were thinking about Mingyu again.

You had been thinking about him since April.

All of this felt so silly, like stupid games young 20-somethings played. You knew it wasn’t good for you in engage in – well, anything with Mingyu. He had always been perfectly uncommitted with women, and he was clearly obsessed with his work, posting his new recipes or pictures of him and his flag football team on his Instagram stories. You could handle this. You could be an adult and have a functional acquaintanceship with someone you found attractive. 

So you kept your distance. On the off chance that Mingyu was free and asked if you wanted to get together (which was a shock in itself), you declined. Even if you wanted to. Even if you desperately wondered what would come of it. The next wedding wasn’t until the end of June and you were already biting you lip at the thought of seeing him in a suit again.

The only person you could finally blabber to about this was Minghao, and in typical fashion, he laughed. Not that you expected anything less.

“You’re overthinking the entire situation,” he said over drinks. “It’s completely normal for you to have a little fun, especially while healing from a breakup. That’s what being single is all about, my friend.”

He was right. Of course, he was right. But what if Mingyu rejected you yet again, like he did in college? You wanted to talk to Vernon about this. He always gave you the best advice with this stuff, but this was his friend. The last thing you wanted was to make his friendship with Mingyu weird.

You attempted to ignore him. You redownloaded some dating apps as a distraction. You deleted them just as fast.

On the morning of June 20th, your cousin, Jordan, was marrying her longtime boyfriend, Joshua Hong. You had only met Josh on a number of occasions, but considering that they had been together for almost twelve years, you trusted him enough to take care of her. You felt lucky to be chosen as a bridesmaid and you’d never make a fuss, but dear god, the dark blue of this dress clashed with just about everything. The color was so dark and the dress was clinging to just about all of you and Mingyu’s tie was the wrong shade of blue –

Damn, did he look handsome though.

Jordan had made you both get to the venue early for a rehearsal dinner, and then once the morning came, you were whisked off to hair and makeup. You had barely said a word to Mingyu, too scared to give him anything besides small talk, but you couldn’t help but compliment the new suit he bought for the last few weddings. “Figured I’d cave and invest in one that wasn’t from Goodwill,” he explained, “for you.”

For you. For you. For you.

Your heels were hurting your feet halfway through the wedding, and despite how hard you were trying to focus on Josh’s vows, you couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s eyes in the crowd. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone else, his stare burning into yours to let you know his intent. You swallowed hard. Would anyone notice if you hid your blush behind the bouquet in your hands? It felt like torture having him look at you like this, as if there wasn’t an extravagant wedding happening around them, as if he wasn’t Kim Mingyu. 

It wasn’t until the reception that you could finally get a word in with your cousin, some much needed alone time after what was surely going to be the craziest wedding you went to this year. You both parked yourself near the open bar, ignoring the guests on the dance floor that were screaming for another round of the Cha Cha Slide. Tucking a strand behind your ear, Jordan said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. Jeez, I really didn’t think when I was three and met you a couple weeks after you were born that we’d be here. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You grinned, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” The bartender handed you a new glass of wine and you took a sip. “Besides, these days all I do is work or go to weddings. The life of being a permanent wedding guest, I supposed.”

“Speaking of guests …” Jordan turned her head slightly, ogling Mingyu from where he was standing up and trying to decline your great aunt’s advances to dance. Your cousin giggled. “He isn’t the older guy I thought you’d bring.”

“Circumstances change.” You shrugged, and she gave you a look. “I’d rather not get into it.”

Jordan’s brow raised. “You guys are having sex though, right?”

You almost choked while taking another sip of your wine. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I –” You sighed, and then decided to suck down the rest of the glass in one go. Jordan whistled. “We did at one point. Very long time ago. But he’s Vernon’s friend and … it’s a long story.”

“Sounds like it,” she snorted, eyes flickering around the reception until they landed somewhere behind you. “Well, if you’re not having sex with him, my friend just might tonight.”

Your expression muddled, until she pointed over your shoulder. Turning around, you found Jordan’s Maid of Honor chatting up Mingyu near the stairs that lead to the restrooms. Her hand was inching up his sleeve and he was blushing at what you could only assume was a compliment coming from her lips. He was clearly enjoying the conversation, despite the intimate looks he was giving you earlier. 

Classic fucking Kim Mingyu, you thought.

A pang of jealousy surfaced that you couldn’t control. It was probably best for everyone if you walked away and took a breather. After Joshua pulled his wife onto the dance floor, you adjusted the tight silk of your dress and headed for the bathrooms. You walked past them, your perfume wafting past Mingyu’s nostrils, a scent he would know anywhere. 

Instead of going inside the bathroom, you decide to stand in the empty hall connected to the venue and brace your back against the cool wall. You sighed, gathering yourself, completely unaware it wasn’t just you here until you heard the squeak of someone else’s shoes.

“I noticed you were empty,” Mingyu muttered as a way of greeting. He was holding two glasses of rosé between his fingers, stepping down the small staircase to get to you.

It was just you two now, and he was handing you the glass while standing so close that you could smell his cologne. Had this dress always felt that tight, or could you just not breathe right now? You watched the way his eyes flickered to your mouth, and it took everything in you not to yank him closer by the tie. Instead, you took a big gulp of rosé.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” you remarked, and then nodded your head in the direction of the Maid of Honor now on the dance floor. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side, studying you carefully.

“She’s pretty. Don’t stop on my account, but please be aware that we are sharing a room so you can’t bring anyone back there.”

Mingyu’s lips slowly curved into a grin. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, “No. I’m just … being realistic.”

Taking your half empty glass from your hand, he set them both down on a side table right near the women’s restroom. Your mouth opened, but the words died as soon as he placed a hand beside your head on the wall. He was so tall that he towered over you, even in heels, leaning into your space with pretty, half-opened eyes as he stared at your glossy lips.

“Can I be realistic with you?” He didn’t give you a moment to answer. “I cannot stop thinking about our last night together. I know you probably thought it happened because of the weed, but I … these past two months, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And it’s killing me that I’ve been trying to be normal this whole night when all I’ve wanted to do is drag you away and make you cum again.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words. He leaned in then, grazing his nose over the side of your face, desperate to be in your orbit. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and tried to control your heart rate, but how was that even possible when Mingyu’s other hand was brushing up and down your side, tangled in the silk.

“Well, that …” You swallowed hard. “That wouldn’t be a good idea considering all my family is here.”

He tsked under his breath. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be, but …” You felt his nose at your jaw, inhaling the scent of your perfume again, the one that made him crazy. And he damn near groaned in your ear. 

“Mingyu, you … you –”

“Fuck, how could you think I’m looking at anyone else here when you look this good in your dress?” His voice had taken on that needy tone he always got when he was horny. It almost felt like a reward to be able to hear it again. “I’ve been half-hard this entire reception just from looking at you, remembering the way you tasted …” He muttered another curse.

This was how he always acted. Mingyu could be so desperate and pleading when he wanted to get someone in bed, needy to the point he would do anything just to please you, but god – you couldn’t deny how much you liked it. He was reeling you in. You were like fish to bait.

Slowly, he laced your dominant hand with his and moved it from his belt buckle to his groin. You could barely breathe when you felt him harden under your touch, and then you remembered you were still in a public hallway, where just about anyone could walk by. 

Your eyes met his half-lidded ones as he murmured, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

And god help you, because you whimpered at the sound of his voice, slick starting to gather between your thighs.

“Okay, Mingyu, just …” You sighed, composing yourself because you knew he wasn’t going to any time soon. Your hand slipped away from his and he huffed, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder. “Go to our room and let me make my rounds. I’ll meet you up there.”

He stood up. For a moment, he was almost tempted to drag you into the bathroom and bury his face between your legs, too hungry to let you get away now. But one of your uncles was walking down the hall, and you separated quickly. With a nod, you walked back to the reception and said goodbye to your family that you didn’t get to talk to for too long prior. Jordan gave you a look when you mentioned about going to bed early, and even Josh told you how weird you were being, but your cousin shut him up and sent you a wink.

You exhaled heavily and headed back to hotel on the other side of the venue. Slipping your heels off once you were inside the elevator, you debated if giving into Mingyu this easily was the smart thing to do. Smart? Definitely not. But would it be enjoyable? You didn’t need to answer that question. Mingyu knew what he was doing.

As you unlocked the door to your hotel room, you began to wonder if you were just setting yourself up to be hurt again. He didn’t come back to you like this in college, but what’s stopping him from telling you that he’s “just not that into you” at the next wedding? Or what if he just thought of you as an easy hookup that would get his dick wet every 2 months? Well, you hadn’t done that yet –

Yet. Yet. Yet.

The word repeated in your head like a melody, because when you threw your purse down and saw Mingyu walking out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower and dressed in only a towel around his waist, you realized that you were most definitely getting his dick wet tonight. Whether it was in your mouth or somewhere deeper, you were salivating for it. 

He was smiling at you and you were smiling at him and Jesus, he was so goddamn handsome that you couldn’t believe that he was the one desperate for you. Droplets of water trickled down his tan skin and that towel around his waist was just barely holding on. His torso was chiseled and his arms – fuck, his biceps were bigger than you remembered. He was something out of a dream – some horny, fucked-up dream that you only had after masturbating before bed.

He was on you instantly, pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard. Sighing into the kiss, your hands fist into the towel to yank him closer, but it only makes the flimsy fabric fall. You break away for a moment to mutter, “Oh, shit,” but his lips can’t stay away from yours for long. And he’s laughing, like you did exactly what he wanted. You were too hypnotized by the scent of his body wash to care.

Dragging his lips down your neck, he sucked at the spot that he knew made your thighs press together, grinning proudly against your skin when you moaned. His fingers gripped the soft silk of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric up to feel you that much closer. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much he liked you in this dress – and god, did he like you in this dress – he needed you out of it. Now.

Mingyu unzipped your dress with precision, setting it down on one of the two beds in the room, and both of you were suddenly wishingthere was only one. His hands smoothed down your sides, his breath hot against your mouth. He just wanted to feel you everywhere. He almost didn’t want to step away, afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. When you two had hooked up in college, it was quick and explosive, letting out the tension that had been building for years. There was so much territory for him to cover now, so many ways for him to find out what made you whine and sigh with pleasure. But, if he were being honest, all he wanted right now was for you to –

“Sit on my face,” he begged, caging you into the wall, pressing his hard cock against your stomach. So desperate for just an ounce of friction, so hungry for another taste of you. He could literally start drooling at the thought of it. He was mesmerized by you; he’d do anything you asked just to have your pussy on his tongue again.

But you seemed to be debating your options, biting you lip again, and he wished that didn’t turn him on even more. You were just so pretty, and the way your face scrunched as you decided on something was a sight he couldn’t help but think about when he touched himself, even all those years ago. It was just you. You. 

Eventually, your face relaxed, and you replied, “Well, you don’t have to beg me.”

Mingyu’s lips pulled into a smile, and he laughed while pulling you down onto the nearest bed. Despite his request, you continued to straddle his torso and kiss him for just a little while longer. He was needy, moaning into your mouth whenever his cock bumped against your ass, but all you wanted to feel his lips on yours, tangle your tongue with his, even if it was just for another minute. 

You forgot Mingyu was stronger than you, though. It wasn’t much longer before he was yanking your body up and turning you around so you knelt just above his face. He inhaled the scent of your pussy and almost breathed a sigh of relief, but instead muttered, “Such a tease sometimes.”

Now that you were hovering above him, you were suddenly self conscious about how excited you were and if your arousal was seeping onto his face. You couldn’t even see if he was thrilled or not, since he had turned you to face away from him, but the way his cock jumped in front of your eyes told you enough. His hands gripped your thighs tight. “I don’t want to crush you,” you said nervously.

“You could suffocate me and I wouldn’t have a problem with it."

You chewed on your bottom lip. His tone was firm, probably the most serious you’d ever heard from him. But you were embarrassed and this was crazy and you still so wet. With flushed cheeks, you asked, “Mingyu, are you –”

“Yes,” he answered before pulling you down onto his face.

He wasn’t teasing you tonight. He was devouring you without even letting you catch your breath. His tongue swiping at your clit before he sucked on it – hard. So hard that you let you a sound that was a mixture of a yelp and a moan. Gripping you roughly, he spread you wider, drinking more of you in. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his face, which made him groan into your pussy. The vibration in his voice spread throughout your entire body, goosebumps lining your flesh. “Mingyuuu,” you whined, begging for more, and you could practically feel him smirk as he flicked at your swollen clit. 

Leaning forward, you turned your head up and noticed again just how hard he was. His cock had always been perfect: the perfect size, dark pink at the tip, veins etched into the shaft. Precum beaded at the head, sliding down every so slowly, as he throbbed and ached and – god, his hips were almost thrusting into the air now. You didn’t doubt he could get off for hours on this, but that didn’t mean he needed to be unsatisfied.

Besides, you wanted something to do with your mouth anyway.

Mingyu whimpered as you shifted slightly to reach his cock. Your body stretched, your mouth at the perfect angle as you flicked the head with your tongue. He pulled you back towards his mouth, shoving his tongue inside your tight hole and making you gasp at the same time you licked a stripe up his shaft. His tongue worked you open while you swirled your own along the tip, and then finally took him into your mouth.

The grunt he released should’ve caused an earthquake.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, choking when he bucked into your mouth.  You could hardly breathe, taking every opportunity to inhale through your nose, but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. God forbid, you have a hobby like wanting Kim Mingyu’s cock in  your mouth. He took the liberty of grinding you against his face with his own hands, wrapping his lips around your clit again, eager to taste your climax. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last if you kept sucking on his tip like that. He groaned each time, feeling your tongue circle his head before going back down, taking as much as you could, as if you were rewarding him. And he just couldn’t help but whine along with you.

Your lips pulled off him to kitten lick the veins along the sides of his shaft, and you breathily asked, “Are you close?”

His only response was a moan straight into your pussy.

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see it, before your mouth opened like second nature. You spit on his cock and stuffed him down your throat once again. Head moving faster, you were slobbering on him like a dog in heat, trying not to gag and failing. Your free hand snaked up to cup one of his balls, and the sound he released was deafening. His tongue flicked and sucked at your clit like he had nothing left to live for, hungry for every last drop of your essence.

But then you were cumming, and he was too not long after.

You cried, choking on his cock as you came all over his face. White blurred in your vision, and you were a mess of sweat and spit and so much cum. He exploded in your mouth a moment later, hot seed running down your throat, and you consumed all of it. Neither of you wanted to miss out on the taste of each other. It was filthy, intoxicating, how much you liked this. How much you could suck him off over and over again, and not get tired of him.

You didn’t know it at the time, but Mingyu would say the same about you. If not worse.

He could spend all day between your thighs and never want to leave.

When you both finally angled off each other, spent and exhausted, your breathing was heavy and off by two seconds. Mingyu was glancing over at you before you could even process, a smile playing at his swollen lips. He brushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Mingyu,” you finally said, “has anyone ever told you that you have boyfriend dick?”

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how much he’d been dreaming of that moment, how much you had haunted his dreams and left him waking up so hard that he felt he was going through puberty again. Sometimes he dreamed of how good it would feel when he finally slipped into you, inch by inch. You’d feel like home.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Seokmin and Quinn Song: July 31st

You couldn’t go a day without talking to Mingyu. Whether it be through text or over the phone, you were joking with him, telling him about your day, and vice versa. Just a month prior, you had tried keeping your distance, but now … you simply couldn’t help yourself. It was like there was a voice inside your head telling you to contact him, to send him a funny video you saw that day, to tell him about the show you were currently watching. And on nights when you had too much to drink, that voice made you text him that you missed him. He always said he missed you too.

Mingyu: I’m watching that show you recommended

Mingyu: kinda wish you were watching it with me

Mingyu: but I’m still content here and I can see why you like it so much

You: right?? I knew you’d like it!

You couldn’t help but giggle at your phone when his texts came through. And you answered them immediately, like you always did. 

Mingyu: what are you doing right now?

You: wouldn’t you like to know

Neither of you made the effort to go on an actual date. It was all just flirty texts with a TikTok mixed in every once in a while. Promises about going back to that coffee shop someday, but never planning the day. To be honest, this was one of those moments where you were glad Mingyu was so uncommitted. If you started going on dates that didn’t include a vow exchange in between, it would be so easy to fall for him again, and then be let down when he eventually didn’t want to see you after wedding season. 

Mingyu: I mean that’s why I asked

You: I’m hanging out with

A pillow was suddenly thrown at your head. “Ow!” You shouted, head shooting up from your phone to glare at Vernon sitting on the other side of the couch. “What the hell was that for?”

“Anakin is literally burning alive and all you can do is look at your phone!” Vernon scoffed, turning Revenge of the Sith back on. You set your phone down on your lap as he muttered, “Kinda wish I never won that bet.”

Vernon, obviously, was becoming increasingly annoyed that you and Mingyu had rekindled … whatever this was. Sometimes you wondered if you were talking to Mingyu more than your best friend, but given the way Vernon was acting, that was probably the case. You probably shouldn’t even be texting Mingyu while hanging out with Vernon. Bad friend move; happens to the best of us. 

You apologized to Vernon in the best way possible: you bought him fried chicken from his favorite spot.

As summer came along, so did Seokmin and Quinn’s wedding at the end of the month, an invitation that was barely hanging on by an old Britney Spears magnet on your fridge. Quinn Song had been your first ever roommate out of college. You both had met on a Facebook group to find roommates in the area and quickly hit it off. She had been your roommate up until last year actually, when her now-fiancé Lee Seokmin asked her to move in with him. It was at that point that you finally decided to live alone, besides the few days out of the week that Vernon crashed at your apartment.

The wedding was being held on a pretty island in the northeast, nestled on the expansive grounds of a bed and breakfast in the area. The spot felt warm and lived in, the exact kind of place you imagined Quinn would get married at. 

Meeting Mingyu at the airport had been awkward, but at the very least, you two were sitting in different rows of the plane. Maybe it shouldn’t have been as cringe-worthy as it was, given the fact that you two had been talking nonstop, but it was the memory that the last time you did see each other in person, you were sitting on his face and his cock was so far down your throat –

Mingyu had found your eyes a couple rows behind him on the plane. Even he was blushing now, as if he could read your thoughts.

You had rented a car once you reached your destination and threw him the keys, letting him drive the convertible down the coast while the summer breeze whipped through your hair. You tried not to notice the way his hand twitched on the gear shift, like he was itching to place his palm on your thigh, to ground himself to your presence. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Especially when all you could do was stare out the window with a big smile on your face.

Unfortunately, you had to book a room at a small hotel near the bed and breakfast since all the rooms were used for the wedding party. The hotel was quaint, but definitely old and smelled like the Febreze scent your mom used to love when you were a kid. Your room was tinier than the pictures implied, but it was on the first floor and had a screen door that opened to a pretty view of the ocean. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it though, considering that the ceremony was in a few hours and the reception would probably carry on until way past midnight.

You decided to rewear the floral sundress that made a previous appearance at Chan and Adrianna’s wedding. It wasn’t like anyone here was at that event, and honestly, you didn’t care. Throwing your hair up into a perfectly messy updo, you curled a few pieces and took your time with your diligent makeup routine. Mingyu was in his suit before you could even blink, biding his time while you got ready by watching past game recordings of the flag football team he taught and trying to identify key moves they missed out on. As you finished up and clumsily slipped on your shoes, the perfume you sprayed seemed to beckon him like a siren song, and suddenly, he was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

Your brows shot up. “Done with your flag football research?”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied.

You turned, unable to stop your lips from pulling into a soft smile. His expression was so warm, cheeks tinged slightly pink either from embarrassment or a nasty sunburn. He was beautiful. In ways you couldn’t even comprehend. 

Holding out your necklace to him, you asked, “Can you help me put this on?”

He nodded, plucking the dainty chain from your palm. You moved back to the mirror as he struggled to open the clasp with his thick fingers, but he got it eventually. Placing the thin, gold chain around your neck, you watched the small, star-shaped pendant sit so delicately under your collarbones. He fixed the clasp on your neck, his fingers brushing the top of your spine, and you watched him lean forward in the mirror.

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, breath hot and making the hairs on your neck stand up. “I meant it, by the way,” he whispered, and then placed the softest of kisses behind your ear. 

Your breath hitched, and you were unable to form a single coherent thought. For the first time in a while, he was catching you by surprise. He was moving back, and you noticed him smirk in the mirror, knowing exactly how he was affecting you. That annoying asshole –

“Ready to head out?” He asked, grabbing his wallet from the desk.

You huffed and tugged the strap of your purse onto your shoulder. “Of course.”

The grounds of the bed and breakfast were bigger than you assumed, enough to fit an extremely large tent and hardwood floor for all the guests to congregate. The ceremony was held near the shoreline of the ocean, and it was so, unapologetically Quinn to have a few seashell pins in her veil as she walked towards her husband. You had known Seokmin as long as Quinn had been your roommate, but you had never seen this kind of smile on his face until now. He completely lit up at the sight of her, and he didn’t waste a second to say, “I do,” once his time came.

As the guests crowded into the tent for the reception, Mingyu seemed to hold onto you like a toddler with it’s parent. His arm was locked around yours, letting you lead him through the crowd, even though he was tall enough to see over the tops of everyone’s heads. His palm was so warm on your wrist, and then his fingers were so easily lacing through yours, and you squeezed because you simply couldn’t help yourself. 

You were able to find your table easily, but you didn’t recognize the other people already there. They introduced themselves as Seokmin’s friends, and you remembered seeing one or two of them at a bar. You still couldn’t get a read on these people, and found yourself swiftly growing silent around their shared camaraderie. But Mingyu was suddenly so talkative, catching along with their jokes just as quickly, so you stood and whispered in his ear, “Do you want a drink?”

He leaned back to meet your eyes, and you swore time stopped for a moment. His hand reached down, squeezing your wrist, as he said, “You know what I like.”

Jesus. Fuck. Since whendid he have you this wrapped around his finger?

(Probably since sophomore year of college.)

You nodded, swinging your head in the direction of the bar, and your feet had started to head there when you halted in place. It almost felt like your heels were glued to the floor as you found the face of the last person you expected to be here. The only face that could make all the noise drown out around you.

Your ex.

He still had that same curl that always got in his eyes. He was wearing the same suit he wore to your mother’s engagement party last year. The same watch on his wrist; the same cufflinks. Same. Same. Same. And now, he was meeting your eyes across the room. Bodies formed in clusters under the tent – some hugging, some stumbling into each other – but he was unable to look away.

Until a head popped up in front of him, standing from her chair at the table. Her wedge sandals almost made her taller than him, and her dress looked expensive enough that he probably bought it. You didn’t know her, but you knew of her. Well, at least, you knew what the back of her head looked like, and that was her right there. 

You couldn’t forget the night even if you tried. Exhaustion had your shoulders sagging as you unlocked the door to your boyfriend’s apartment. He didn’t typically keep it locked, but you had a key anyway. You remembered how quiet the place was, except for the soft sounds echoing from his bedroom. At first, you thought he was just masturbating, and to be honest, you were too tired to engage in anything tonight. But a voice in your head had urged you to move, to go, go, go towards his room. And you were slowly pushing open the door, only to find your boyfriend fucking your 22-year-old neighbor from behind, yanking on her short hair like a leash. You had been too scared to move, too scared to breathe, but eventually, you had started wailing. His eyes had found yours – exactly like in this moment – and he screamed, slipping away completely as your back slid to the floor. He had tried explaining, tried to yell at the young girl, but everything had drowned away in that moment, and all you could hear was the ringing in your ears –

Your breathing was growing rapid, just like that day at his apartment. Sprinting to the inside of the bed and breakfast, you tried to act normal and say hello to whoever you knew mingling by the bathroom. But something was clearly very wrong. It was evident in your eyes, the way tears were pricking at the sides. You almost thought the universe was pulling a cruel prank on you, but then you remembered that it was Quinn who had introduced you two in the first place, that he had been a friend of a friend. 

Climbing up the staircase in the lobby, you plopped yourself down on the middle step and let your face fall into your hands. You began to count your breaths – one, two, three, one, two, three – anything to make you get a semblance of control. But you could feel your brain spinning, and your heart was beating too fast. Was this what it felt like to die? Was your cheating ex going to be the last face you saw before you completely slumped against this staircase? Vernon always said you had a flair for the dramatic. What a fitting way to end.

You felt a weight sink into the plush carpet next to you, and you lifted your head, tears brimming your eyes.

“You do realize that this isn’t your party. You can’t cry if you want to,” Mingyu joked, reaching out and swiping the tear at your lash line. His eyes softened then, looking at you like you were something fragile, like a baby bird. “What’s wrong?” His voice was hardly about a whisper.

You sniffled, dabbing at the corners of your eyes with your knuckles. The last thing you needed was your makeup messed up. “This is so embarrassing. I’m crying over something so …” Your words trailed off, noticing that he was leveling a look at you. You sighed before admitting, “I forgot that the bride, Quinn, might invite my ex because they were friends. Somewhat.”

“Your ex? As in that ex?” His brow shot up, and you nodded. “Did he come alone?”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, and after a moment, you watched his large palm slowly envelope one of yours. The rough pads of his fingers – the hands of a cook – brushed over your knuckles, and his touch was so warm that it could burn. 

His voice was soft in your ear as he said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You chuckled a little, turning to look at him again. “Then we’d be sitting on this staircase forever.”

He smiled at you and stretched out his long legs. “That’s fine with me.”

Your lips pursed, and you found him staring at them for a moment. A sigh escaped, and you glanced down at your laced hands. How perfectly they fit together, how he held you with such a fierce softness. His thumb grazed the scar on your knuckle that you got the first time you fell off your bike. Finally, you answered, “He came here with the girl he cheated on me with.”

Mingyu didn’t speak, but you did hear him do a sharp intake.

“She’s twenty-two. She didn’t – she doesn’t know any better. He’s in his early thirties and he’ll do it again,” you continued, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “I found them in his apartment after I came home from a late meeting at work. It was … messy. Walking in on them, the fallout, now this … everything about that breakup has felt like one big mess. And now, I have to see him here and be reminded of it all–fucking–over again.”

You didn’t even dare to meet his eyes as the next words tumbled out of your mouth, already feeling your voice start to break again. “It didn’t just hurt because I found them. It hurt because … I never wanted to become my mother. I love her. I really do. But the last thing I ever wanted was to become her. Be in the same situation as her. And yet, there I was, witnessing yet another infidelity that would affect my life for what seems like forever.” You rubbed at your running nose. “I found my father cheating too. It wasn’t exactly the same. I found him kissing my best friend’s mom in my parent’s bedroom one night when my mother stayed at work too late. The sentiment still stands, and history was always bound to repeat itself. Daughters always become their mothers and I always have to bear witness to another man not choosing to stick around –”

Mingyu stopped you by turning your face towards his, one hand cupping your cheek. His thumb skimmed the tears running through your blush. He didn’t say anything; his eyes let you know that he was here. That he was sticking around. Despite everything you thought of him, despite your past – Mingyu was here. 

He held you for as long as you needed, gathering you in his arms and cradling your head against his shoulder. He let your tears soak into the fabric of his expensive suit, promising he’d get it dry-cleaned, which made you laugh. Your fingers clutched his lapels and you almost considered not letting go. You would give anything to stay in this bubble, to sit on this staircase in his embrace forever.

“I meant what I said all those months ago,” he said, his voice muffled from his lips at the crown of your head. “I would kill any guy that has done you wrong. Do you want me to kill him?”

You chuckled and raised your head from his shoulder. “What are you gonna kill him with? A butter knife?” You shook your head. “No chef is gonna let you in that kitchen tonight to grab a weapon. You of all people should know that.”

Mingyu grimaced. “This conversation is getting morbid.”

Another laugh bubbled at your lips. “You brought it up!”

“And you’re smiling again,” he said, making your hands hold onto him tighter. “That’s all I could ask for.”

Such simple words could take your breath away, especially when they came from his mouth. You searched his eyes for a moment, your fingers now smoothing out the creases in his lapel. Eventually, you whispered, “I don’t know if I can survive this whole reception. I hate the awkward tension, but I should stay for Quinn.”

“Trust me, I know,” he snickered, and his hand covered over yours as an anchor. “I say we stay at the reception for as long as your comfortable. Then we go to bed early. Whatever works for you.”

Your smile was so kind as you nodded along with his plan. After touching up your makeup, you took his hand and let him lead you back to the reception. Once you saw Quinn in her short, after party dress and looking at Seokmin with stars in her eyes, you instantly felt more at ease. This was her day; you wouldn’t let one person sour it. And Mingyu, clearly, wasn’t going to let your own nerves sour it either. Anytime you locked eyes with your ex, there Mingyu was, distracting you by whispering in your ear how pretty you looked or asking you about your best memories while living with Quinn. There was one moment where you saw your ex heading in your direction, assuming he was finally going to talk to you, and Mingyu stood up to whisk you onto the dance floor. His large arms enveloped you, holding you close, as you swayed to one of your favorite songs. Everything about him felt safe, secure, and he even let you stand on his feet when you told him you had never been that good at dancing. And when you looked at him, you noticed that he was staring at you like how Quinn looked at Seokmin during her speech. Even when you had cried, had let him in, see parts of you that not even Vernon touched … he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

You stayed at the reception far longer than anticipated. When you told Mingyu that you were too tired to stay any longer, he didn’t question it. He simply grabbed your purse and jacket before taking your arm in his, walking the short distance back to your Febreze-ridden hotel. The first thing you did once you were back in your room was take off your heels. They were only a kitten heel, but your feet were already blistering, and you winced as you went to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Mingyu had set your stuff down on the small desk before walking out onto the deck connected to your room. You craned your neck out, assuming he was going to smoke a joint, but he was just staring at the ocean, noticing how loud the waves crashed against the shore.

You padded out of the bathroom and leaned against the door frame for a moment, admiring him in the dim light. It almost left in you in disbelief how you had roped Kim Mingyu, one of the most attractive men you’d ever met and probably one of the longest crushes you’d ever had in your life, into being your wedding date for an entire year. He had a lost a bet, but he really didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to invest in a new suit. He didn’t have take the time off from his two jobs. He didn’t have to listen to your trauma, or look at you like you were this painting to be worshipped, this Mona Lisa of sorts. Mingyu could’ve said no. 

But he didn’t. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” you finally informed him, and he turned to meet you eyes. “Can you help me out of my dress?”

He nodded diligently, following you to the bathroom. You pulled your hair up with one hand, and with deft fingers, he slid the zipper down your back. Typically, you would hold the dress to your chest until he left the bathroom, out of respect, but you were letting it pool at your feet tonight. You stepped out of it, your gaze locking with his as you turned on the shower. You were giving him this look and he was still standing there in his half-buttoned dress shirt, hands forming into fists as he fought the urge touch you. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for your permission.

But you didn’t even have to say anything. Your eyes said the words for you. As you climbed into the standing shower, he took his time removing his suit, pretending as if he wasn’t fucking dying to have his hands on you, and then he was behind you, the hard panes of his chest flush against your back. He closed the shower door as the glass began to fog up.

The water was scalding as it rained down on your head, steam forming around the small bathroom. You could still feel the dried tears on your face, imprinted underneath your makeup all night, and you did your best to wash them away. Mingyu noticed the way your shoulders sagged, the way you sighed while you were lost in thought, and as much as wanted touch you in places that made those sweet sounds fall from your lips, he held himself back. Instead, he let his hands comb through your wet hair before scrubbing shampoo into the strands. You relaxed against him, closing your eyes as he washed your hair.

It was so domestic that you could cry. 

(Again.)

The last person you ever thought could be capable of this kind of care was Mingyu. You both had known each other for eight years, and not once had he displayed this kind of person around you. Or maybe you just weren’t paying attention, too lost in your own perception of him. Even now, you couldn’t help but remind yourself of when he avoided you after the hookup in senior year. He really isn’t the same guy, Vernon’s voice echoed in your head. Give him a chance. You had never trusted those words, but in this moment … you realized where you had went wrong.

The water began to get cold when it came time to wash his own hair and you could tell he was struggling to rush. His mannerisms made you giggle, and even though the steam began to dissipate from the room, you still turned to his front and rested your forehead on his chest, letting the lukewarm water beat down your neck.

When you walked out of the shower, you had never felt more fresh and at ease. Your body was all warm and you had brought the comfiest pajamas for summer weather. The breeze wafting off the ocean blew through your room from the open screen door, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could lull you to sleep.

But right now, it seemed like neither of you were keen on the subject. As you slipped under the covers next to each other, you were grateful that there was only one bed: one large, king-sized bed that both of you could be using to spread out. Instead, you were huddled close, hair still wet from the shower, and his arms locked around you like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. Your hands cupped his face, studying parts of him that you didn’t think of in your previous lust-induced hazes. Fingers traced his lips, brushed over the tip of his nose – where his tiny mole was stamped – before you skimmed the shell of his ear.

You almost didn’t recognize your own voice as you whispered, “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime,” he smiled.

A beat of silence. Hands stilled. Lips pursed.

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, kiss me.”

His mouth was on yours before you could even finish the sentence, but he still took his time exploring new ways to make you moan into the kiss. He kept one hand splayed on your back, pressing you further into him, while the other played with the hem of your loose t-shirt. Your hands knotted into his hair as he kissed you slow, savoring you like a fine meal. And you simply let him. You were like molten lava, melting in the palm of his calloused hands. 

You felt his fingers prod at the waistband of your shorts, and it was game over. Slipping them under, he practically whined into your mouth when he realized you hadn’t put any panties on after the shower. His mouth disconnected from yours, fingers sliding between your slick folds. “Are you trying to kill me?” He breathed against your lips.

“In my defense,” you chuckled softly, “I forgot to bring them to the bathroom.”

He laughed with you, and you were debating on crying again because he was so kind and good and definitely just as obsessed with you as you were with him. No matter how many times you didn’t want to admit it, you had somehow fallen into Kim Mingyu’s trap once again. 

He kissed you again, hungrier this time, as he spread you open with his fingers. You whimpered, but he swallowed it with his tongue and began to rub tight circles on your clit. Your leg lifted, hooking onto his waist, and you bucked against his hand. Your body felt like it was on fire, but Mingyu was careful, plucking your strings like a guitar, and you needed moremoremore. Pushing two fingers inside of you, his kiss was like a sound barrier as he consumed all your sweet sounds, as if that would allow him to hear them forever. 

It was only when you came apart that he dragged his lips to your neck, wanting to focus on your moans as he fucked you with his fingers. He felt you shake, your pussy squeezing his thick fingers, and he kept rubbing your clit through it, wanting to prolong your orgasm as much as possible. If not for you, then for him, just so he could hear you. He would make you cum as many times as you wanted if it meant he could hear his name falling from your lips. 

Neither of you wanted to stop; all fumbling hands and shaky limbs as he finally tugged your shorts off. It was a lot more difficult to take off his boxers without separating from you, but you laughed and you were so pretty that he almost forgot what he was doing in the first place. Once he was situated, you rolled on top of him, straddling his lap. You held his face in your hands, and for a moment, you could almost see reflections of the dark ocean outside in his starry gaze. Your palms drifted down, fingertips tracing the hard panes of his chest. He was all muscle, sculpted like your very own David statue; his complexion so similar to golden hour personified.

You lifted your t-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. Mingyu was already so hard that it hurt, but he took a few more seconds to stare at you. He wanted to remember this moment forever: the sight of you on top of him, naked and vulnerable, hair wet and a faint blush on your cheeks.

Sitting up on your knees, you positioned yourself right over his cock and gripped the shaft to get the perfect angle inside of you. You were looking at him and he was looking at you as you lowered yourself slightly, grazing his tip against your wet slit, still dripping from your previous orgasm. Mingyu groaned at the sensitivity, throwing his head back against the pillow and muttering, “This is so mean.”

“You like when I’m mean,” you giggled, repeating the same words you uttered that fateful night after Chan’s wedding, when Mingyu’s face was buried between your thighs.

And Mingyu recognized it too, a grin making it’s way to his lips. But that was soon replaced by look of complete bliss as you finally sunk down onto his cock. He was the perfect size, filling you just right but never uncomfortable. He gave you a moment to adjust, but you could tell from his white-knuckled grip on your hips that he was damn near fighting the urge to thrust up into you. He didn’t though. He was patient and perfect and all yours.

You anchored yourself to him with one hand on his shoulder, beginning to rock into him at a snail’s pace. Your eyes connected, and even as he moaned underneath you, he was unable to stop smiling. Mingyu let you set the pace, and you took your time, getting to know what speed had him pulling your hips harder. The angle had him buried so deep inside that you could practically feel him in your stomach, and you sighed each time as you moved against him. 

“Fuck,” he whined, shifting to sit up against the headboard. “I’ve needed you so bad.”

“I know, I know,” you confessed in a breathy whimper. “Me too.”

He was digging his fingers into your hips so hard that you were sure there’d be marks, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him, wanted this. Wanted to be this connected to him and feel him this deep and cum together as the waves crashed against the shore outside. He began to move you on his own accord, bouncing you on his cock as he leaned forward to nip and suck at your neck. “So pretty,” he mused against your skin, breath stuttering as your walls tightened. “So pretty sitting on my cock.”

You were the one whining now, raking your fingers into his dark strands as your thigh muscles burned. Your breasts jumped with each slam of his hips against yours, and he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, dipping his tongue into your collarbone, before latching his mouth around one of your nipples.

Your hands pulled at his hair. “Mingyu, please,” you cooed, not exactly sure what you were begging for. Just moremoremore. 

His eyes lifted to yours and you watched him fucking smile while tugging at your nipple. You were melting like putty, and he was able to still move you with one hand, using his free one to cup your other breast and run his thumb over that nipple. Tears pricked at your eyes, feeling him pulse inside you with each pass. And when he started to thrust up into you, you were pretty sure that you were close to seeing stars.

“Wanna cum with you,” he rasped while switching breasts and flicking his tongue over your other nipple. “Please, wanna cum inside you.”

You nodded, too cock drunk to say anything besides, “Yesyesyes.”

He was rolling your hips now, practically rutting into you as he lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of spit. You leaned down and let his lips ghost over yours. Moans slipped from your mouth into his, and he was bouncing you on his cock so fast you almost couldn’t register to breathe. His breath was hot against your lips, so close he could feel his body shaking, but he needed you to be closer, needed to feel you tightened around him and milk him for everything he was worth.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, he found your clit easily, knowing your body better than anyone ever had. All you could hear in that moment was the sound of the ocean through your screen door and skin slapping against skin. You were so wet and warm and – shit, you were starting to clench around him. He rolled your clit between two fingers, and a whimper slipped out of his mouth when he felt your pussy clamp around his throbbing cock.

He needed to cum and so did you and – fuck, he could feel it, feel you, feel how deep he was inside.

He would do this forever if you asked.

“Fuck, Mingyu, oh my god, right there, right there –” You pleaded in his ear, feeling yourself tip right over that edge –

Then you were cumming.

And so was he.

You moaned his name like it was a prayer, shattering as you came undone. Your walls were squeezing him like a vice, and he was unable to hold himself back anymore, burying himself to the hilt before painting your insides white with his orgasm. Hips jerked, bodies went taunt. You felt your whole being dissolve into nothing but pleasure, molding yourself to him in his arms. When the rush of warmth started to fade and he felt your combined releases seep from between your thighs, he breathed out a sigh of relief, brushing kisses over your jaw.

You weren’t sure you were in your right mind. Everything was so hazy. But you didn’t want to move away just yet. Even when his cock started to go soft inside of you, you stayed connected to him, pushing his hair back from his forehead and whispering praises in his ear like, “You were so good … So good to me … My Mingyu … I’ve always been yours …” You could feel him smiling against your skin, his hands tracing circles on your lower back.

But as time seemed to stop and you felt peace for the first time in a while, you realized just how deep you had fallen. You were drowning in him.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that it felt exactly like his dreams. If you were drowning in him, he had already sunk to the bottom a long time ago.

Save the Date for the wedding of Nathan Chaney and Your Mother: September 5th

Your mother was remarrying. Her and Nathan had been together since you went off to college, and then got engaged just a year after you graduated. They decided on a long engagement, choosing to plan out a destination wedding in the Caribbean. You thought it was crazy at first, but then your mother said, “If this is going to be my last wedding – and it is – I want to go out with a bang.” You couldn’t exactly blame her. After your dad had cheated and the divorce was finalized, you knew your mother deserved something like this. She deserved the world.

When she had called you just a week before the wedding, babbling on about who you were possibly bringing now that your ex was completely out of the picture, you paused. Holding the phone to your ear and watering one of your half-dead plants with the other, you said, “I’m … I’m going with Mingyu.”

“Vernon?” She asked, not believing what you said.

“Mingyu.”

“Like … the Mingyu from university? The football player?”

You sighed, playing with the dead leaves on the plant. “He was also – and still is – one of Vernon’s good friends.”

“Oh,” your mother said, more surprised than anything. “Well, you better watch for Nathan’s sister. If Mingyu looks anything like how I remember from Family Day, she will go buck wild over him.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you chuckled.

The truth was … you weren’t exactly sure how this wedding was going to go. Ever since the last one, you had been progressively putting more distance between you and Mingyu. Once again. Your last night together had been so real … too real, and you wanted to save yourself from the heartbreak after this wedding when you never saw him again. As much as you hated to admit it, feelings were now involved, seeping into your bloodstream, until your heart thrummed like the sound of his name on your tongue. 

Slowly pushing him away … it hurt, but it was better this way. Pain was temporary and so was your arrangement. You knew that going into it, so how did you end up in this mess? You remembered what had happened after Chan’s wedding, the way Mingyu looked at you as he was shotgunning smoke into your mouth and – yeah, you knew exactly how you ended up here.

If you kept telling yourself this was for the better, maybe you’d start believing it. Maybe your feelings would drift like smoke and your mother’s wedding would be a final farewell before you two went your separate ways.

But you had been doing that for a month now.

And those feelings refused to fade.

You had an early morning flight the day of your mother’s wedding. Typically, you wouldn’t be getting to a destination wedding on such short notice, but the ceremony was small. So small your mother refused to have a rehearsal dinner and no bridal party. It was about her and Nathan, and you had to respect that she was doing things her way this time around.

You had waited at your gate right before doors closed for Mingyu, since you were on the same flight. But he was clearly running late and you were much too awkward around him now to text him. So you finally got on the plane and found your seat, noticing the one seat in the back still left unoccupied. Once you had landed five hours later, you quickly headed to the hotel that Nathan had booked for the ceremony and reception. Your phone lit up as you hailed a ride.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, I got a new flight 

Mingyu: I’ll be there just 2 hours after you land

Mingyu: I’ll make it for the ceremony. I promise

Feeling his anxiety radiate through your phone, you believed him, and then wondered if maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You were rewarded a few more hours of alone time before you had your last hurrah with Mingyu. Maybe if you buried your feelings deep enough, you wouldn’t tense up the second you saw his face. Maybe if you didn’t look into his eyes, you wouldn’t have the urge to kiss him. Or let him hold your hand. Or spread your legs to welcome him inside –

You dropped your lipgloss onto the bathroom counter, sick of your own thoughts. Your  square-neck, baby blue dress was clinging to every curve, but you felt like you were being suffocated by the fabric. You had just finished doing your hair and makeup, but you couldn’t quite keep your thoughts at bay. Nerves batted against your skull, making your hands shake slightly. What would you do once Mingyu walked in? Would you avoid his stare? Would you tell him immediately how much you liked him and how this wouldn’t work out and you knew you set yourself up for heartbreak –

Maybe you needed a walk.

Grabbing a spare pair of sandals, you headed outside to walk the beach just along the grounds of the hotel. There was still an hour before the ceremony, and you could just see the planners putting finishing touches on the decorations laid out on the shore, where your mother wanted it to take place. Couples were still walking through the water. Kids were making sand castles. The sun was slowly beginning to set and the breeze was whipping your hair off your shoulders.

And you smiled, despite everything you were feeling. Because where there was an end, there would always be a new beginning.

“HEY!”

You spun around, your sandals sinking into the sand. Although you recognized his voice, the last thing you expected to see was Kim Mingyu running towards you in his pristine black tux, his tie loose around his neck and blowing in the breeze. It was like something out of a movie, the kind of movie where there was supposed to be a happy ending, but you knew you weren’t afforded luck like that in real life.

He stopped in front of you, running a hand through his hair. Sand sprinkled down the tops of his shoes.

“When did you get here?” You raised a brow.

“About twenty minutes ago. I flew in my tux because I figured I wouldn’t have enough time to change. But now it just kind of smells like …” He lifted the sleeve to his nose and inhaled. “Like peanuts and old plastic.”

You giggled, holding a hand to your mouth and just … staring at him. He was smiling at you, fangs poking out from under his top lip. His skin was even prettier in the sunset. His hair, despite the messy texture, was effortless and perfect. He embodied sunshine in its purest form.

“Well, you …” You looked to the water, your hands flexing at your sides. “You didn’t need to come find me out here.”

His voice was sweet, soft, like fresh sheets, when he replied, “Yes, I did.” His hand reached out a little, attempting to lace your fingers together, but he stuffed them in his pockets instead. “When I was wondering where you’d be, I remembered something you said to me in college … Do you remember Move-In Day of junior year when we had that bonfire with Vernon and a few other people? You really didn’t enjoy my company back then, but I sat next to you because you agreed to sharing that god awful cheap vodka we used to like.” He laughed when you grimaced. “We got to talking and I asked you, ‘If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?’ And you said something like, ‘I want to be walking on a beach. I’ve always felt the most calm with my toes in wet sand.’”

You blinked, wondering if you had heard him right. He … how did he … “You remember that?”

“I remember a lot of things.”

And there he was, reaching out again and brave enough to brush his fingers over your knuckles. You looked down, watching his hand interlock with yours, and his palms were balmy and calloused. They felt familiar, like home. And you simply couldn’t believe that you had deprived yourself of this.

“Did you mean it when you said, ‘I’ve always been yours?’”

Your head snapped up, tsking under your breath. Hand still intertwined with his, you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. “You came all the way out here to ask me that?” You asked, flustered and agitated.

His brow shot up. “So that’s a yes then?” 

Your mouth opened, but then closed when you realized that he caught you. 

He added, his voice like velvet again, “Then why are you avoiding me? I can sense it.”

“Well, if you’re that sensitive to other people’s feelings than I guess that –” You paused, taking a deep breath as you gathered yourself. Your ears reddened. “Look, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ve … I like you. A lot. But having feelings for you would be so messy. The last time I went through this, we hooked up and you hardly spoke to me after.”

Mingyu’s brow furrowed. “That was years ago.”

“You know how uncommitted you’ve always been,” you quickly remarked, even though you didn’t fully believe those words anymore. “Weren’t you the one that told me at the start of this that men never really grow up?”

His eyes narrowed a little. “Are you playing psychological warfare with me right now?”

Slipping your fingers away from his, you shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’ve been your date to five weddings this year. It wasn’t just about losing some bet. I did it for you.” He stared at you incredulously. “Are you really going to hold me to a mistake I made six years ago? When I was a shitty 22-year-old that was terrified to tell the girl I liked for years that I was interested in her?”

“I never … I never thought you liked me back then.”

Mingyu’s gaze softened, and he tucked another curl behind your ear that blew in the wind. “I made you believe that I didn’t because it was easier than admitting my feelings. I was terrified of rejection. And an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his comment, but you knew this conversation was far from over. “Well, I …” You rubbed at your nose and turned away from him, facing the water that looked almost sapphire in color. The waves sparkled under the setting sun. “Wedding season is over after this and we can both go back to our normal lives. Vernon won’t flip a lid when he sees me texting you all the time and everything will be back to the way it was. I always prepared for you to just forget about me after this anyway.”

“I love Vernon, but this isn’t about him.” Mingyu stepped forward into your line of vision. “What if I don’t want to go back to the way things were?”

Your eyes flickered to his, and it was his turn to step closer again. His large palm cupped your cheek, his skin always so cozy and inviting that you just had to lean into him. Fingertips traced your brow bone as his gaze lingered on your lips.

“I don’t want to forget about you or never see you again. I want to be around you,” he confessed. “I … want to go on more dates with you. I want to be your date to more than just weddings.”

You hesitated, unraveling and dissecting each word in your head, before you came to the conclusion that … oh, my god, he had feelings for you too. Had you always been this much of an absolute moron?

Getting on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you two, your lips crashing onto his like the water against the shoreline. Your body almost suctioned to his, bringing him even closer when your arms wound around his neck. He kept that one hand on your cheek, the other splaying on your lower back, like how he always did when he was nervous. But he had nothing to be nervous about, because you liked him and he liked you. The world felt like it was spinning, but also just right, and his tongue was licking into your mouth enough to make you feel breathless. You could do this forever, be this relaxed in his arms, kiss him as if it was only you two in your own world. And as he tugged on your bottom lip to make your breathing heavy, you decided that your dream had become a reality.

When you broke the kiss, your cheeks were definitely flushed, even under the layer of blush you put on. Mingyu grinned, tilting his head as he whispered, “So you have always been mine then?”

“Such a tease sometimes,” you repeated his fateful words from June. 

You turned, tugging on his hand playfully as the waves begin to lick at the sand near your feet. “C’mon,” you chuckled. “If we’re late to this wedding, my mom will kill me before I can even think about calling you my boyfriend.”

Mingyu had wanted to ask you to marry him only two years later, and thank god, he finally found the words.

tag list: @syluslittlecrows @yeosayang @eisaspresso @healingmv @nightshadeblooming @dmstoyangyang @amaraeofsunshine @thepoopdokyeomtouched @reiofsuns2001 @tigerhoshii @yoongznme @nerdycheol @gyuguys @ninixgyu4eva @tokitosun @wooyugta @dawn-iscozy @thecowboy7 @wonu-won @whoisbaek15 @alexie-blog

[fullyconsciouswonwoo]

hi bestie its me. i need mingyu so bad like sobbin on it, ya feel? thanks for letting me hit it in my mind palace, i will be returning but you already knew that xoxo

uhhhhhh cock

[goldenhourology]

I totally feel u bestie

[fullyconsciouswonwoo]

that should say slobbin on it

like slobbin on that knob

[goldenhourology]

SLACKING OFF.

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader

genre: smut, angst, fluff, coworkers to lovers, friends to lovers

summary: being technologically averse, yet a complete control freak to your core, you tend to annoy senior IT specialist, jeon wonwoo, to no end. but after an apology brings you two closer together, wonwoo finds himself reaching out to you more often than not. on and off slack. despite what you two had originally perceived, you find yourself thrown into feelings that neither of you could've ever prepared for.

warnings: handjobs, fingering, oral (f!recieving), unprotected sex, missionary position, belly bulge, grinding, praise, wonwoo is a service top!!, multiple sex scenes, jerking it in an corporate office bathroom lol, drunk horniness, miscommunication, reader is learning how to open up<3, mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.2k

note: hello new ppl, welcome to the first goldenhourology one shot ✨ I've written things in the past, but this is my first really long one shot. the longer it got, the more I stressed out lol. but I've seen a lot of people do this 20k word one shots, so I thought I'd try my hand at it! also idk much about tech, so if I got anything wrong in this, pls ignore it. thank you to anyone who gives this a read!!

in rotation: picture you, chappell roan / dress, taylor swift / valentine, laufey / diamond boy, sza

Some said your late 20s were the last few years of fun before you fully allowed yourself to be an adult, so why were you always drowning in work?

It didn’t help that you were an executive assistant in one of the biggest software companies in the U.S. When you took the job, surely, you should’ve known that you’d be signing up for an exorbitant amount of work, ranging from invoice management, planning travel for your boss, to even research for senior managers. Despite the constant stress you were under, you liked this job. You liked the trust that your boss had in you. You liked that they let you be independent and figure things out on your own.

And when you couldn’t … you simply contacted IT.

It helped that a senior IT specialist sat right across from your cubicle.

Jeon Wonwoo wasn’t the most talkative cubicle buddy, nor was he the most pleasant. He did his best to give you a smile every once in a while, but he had to fight the urge to throw his head in his hands whenever you send him a message on Slack. You didn’t typically need help with anything, except in the area of tech. You were so organized and incredibly smart – it didn’t take an idiot to see that – but god forbid, sometimes … you could be so technologically averse.

Maybe he just had too many years of schooling under his belt – he was 28 now with both a Bachelors and Masters in Software Engineering – but you surprised him with some of your requests. Sometimes, you’d delete files by accident, need to renew your subscription to important apps, even locked yourself out of your own computer once. He had interns underneath him that could be available to help you, but you had consistently messaged him. And he sat directly across from you. No matter what, it was always going to be Wonwoo that had to help you. Fate had made sure of that.

There were times that you realized you were bothering him. Either you heard him curse from behind his extremely large monitor or he adjusted his glasses so much that you thought he might break them in half. And to be honest, you liked being in control of your own work, so you’d try to find a solution. Typically, solving your own tech problems left your computer in more disarray.

And there was Wonwoo to save the day yet again.

You [10:58 AM]: Morning, Wonwoo!

You [10:58 AM]: I screwed up

You [10:59 AM]: Boss sent me some documents that were password protected, but he’s away for the next two days and not answering his phone

You [10:59 AM]: So I might’ve downloaded some software to help me unlock it and I think it’s attempting to hack my email as we speak

You [11:01 AM]: I’m so so sorry! I didn’t want to bother you

Jeon Wonwoo [11:01 AM]: I’ll be right over.

Luckily for you, Wonwoo was able to fix the problem and stop your email from getting hacked. Whoever was the owner of that virus-filled program you tried to download didn’t gain access to those password-protected documents before Wonwoo secured your computer. But it was close. Too close.

Not only that, but he had a multitude of other projects today. He had to train two new interns … have one of those annual performance reviews with the head of IT … change over a dozen new passwords for people … and then he found out that they’re changing servers. Which meant everything backed up on their former server had to be transferred over to the new one. Fucking great.

He wasn’t sure how many times he sighed today, but it had to be over a hundred. When he couldn’t stand to be sitting anymore, he stood up and paced around the third floor of the building. Today felt like the longest day of his life. And there was a mustard stain on his green sweater vest. And he got a shitty haircut a few days ago. And he probably needed new glasses because he was getting headaches. 

It was time for a coffee. As well as a day off.

Coincidentally, you were also headed to the break room that afternoon in need of a green tea. You were about to walk in when you heard your cubicle mate letting out a frustrated breath while talking to another IT specialist. He was clearly fed up about something, or maybe just tired of this day. You hid next to the doorframe, and just when you thought it was safe to step out, you heard your name fall from his lips.

“I don’t understand how she does it,” Wonwoo complained, hands smacking against his sides. “Seriously, it’s mind boggling. I’m pretty sure she has her Masters in Business Administration, but she does this shit that just makes me … Oh my god, she literally tried to download some faulty software off the internet today, instead of just asking me or someone else for help.” 

“Oh, yeah, everyone wants to turn to you when you got that attitude, man,” someone – Lee Seokmin, maybe? – joked.

“You get what a mean.” Wonwoo watched the first couple drips of shitty office coffee fill his cup. “I was able to save her computer, yeah, but it would be nice to avoid an emergency for a day.”

Seokmin slapped him on the back. “The joys of working in IT.”

You huffed, stalking away from the break room and back to your desk. There was only so much office gossip you could take, especially when it involved you. As soon as you sat down, you finished typing up an email at the loudest volume possible, your fingers basically punching themselves into the keys. You heard Wonwoo slide back into his desk chair, the fresh smell of burnt coffee wafting across to you, and he didn’t say a thing. Not that he would ever know you had eavesdropped. But not a “hello” or “how has computer been after this morning?” He went back to work, burning his tongue on the overly hot liquid.

Maybe Wonwoo was right; maybe you did need to just stop overthinking and ask for help instead of figuring stuff out on your own. Or maybe this asshole needed an attitude check.

You decided to not bother him for the rest of the week, complaining to your friends that Friday night about your shithead of a coworker. They said he might be looking out for you in his own fucked up way. You said he might just be an asshole.

Come Monday morning, you had realized your ignoring hadn’t effected him at all. He still sent you the same small smile as he walked in and sat down across from you. Could he really not see how pissed you are, or had the facade you’d crafted for so long as the perfect corporate employee work too well?

You should just be upfront with him, take control of the situation. Like always. 

You [9:44 AM]: I heard you in the break room a few days ago.

You [9:44 AM]: I just didn’t want to bother you. That’s why I had tried to figure out the issue on my own. Didn’t realize that was a crime

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: Crap.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:46 AM]: You weren’t supposed to hear that.

You [9:47 AM]: Well, I did

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Listen.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: Not that it excuses anything, but there’s so much going on at work. It wasn’t all about you. I was complaining just to complain and I didn’t mean any of it.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:50 AM]: I’m sorry.

You [9:51 AM]: Wow

Jeon Wonwoo [9:51 AM]: What?

You [9:51 AM]: You’ve never come across as someone who can apologize well

Jeon Wonwoo [9:52 AM]: Are you sure you aren’t projecting right now? We sit across from each other. I’ve seen how stubborn you are.

You [9:53 AM]: I thought you were apologizing to me????

Jeon Wonwoo [9:56 AM]: I’m sorry. Again.

You [10:01 AM]: Okay, you’re forgiven

Jeon Wonwoo [10:09 AM]: Can I make it up to you with a coffee?

You didn’t go out on dates. The last one you went on was … years ago, probably in undergrad. Once you go for your Masters, all energy to date goes out the window.

Not that this was a date. This certainly was not a date.

This was an apology coffee after work, since the two of you seemed to have an affinity for caffeine at late hours.

Even if, per chance, he thought this was a date … you’d eventually have to let him down easy. It probably wasn’t in your best interest to date someone like Jeon Wonwoo, but you’d also closed yourself off from love for far too long. It wasn’t that you didn’t get lonely – you did, very much, especially on late nights where it was just you and your favorite vibrator – but it was just … scary. Opening yourself up. Losing just a small semblance of control. You weren’t even sure you could physically allow yourself to do that after being alone for so long. 

Your heart had been tucked away so many years ago, locked inside a box, and then in another box, and so on. With the final lock being so complicated that only someone who knew the last four of your social security number could answer. No one was opening up that box. Your heart was safe from the outside world.

You were independent, reliant on only yourself, and you liked it that way.

Once he had gotten both your coffees, he sat down next to you at a hightop table, folding his winter coat over the back of his chair. He had managed to remember your latte order and it tasted perfect. Your eyes flitted up, ogling him for a moment. When you’re not under the fluorescent lights of the office, Wonwoo was … attractive. To say the least. Maybe he always had been and you were too blind to see it. Maybe his face was perpetually hidden by his monitor.

His hair was tousled in the way that it looked effortless, even if he hadn’t brushed it after rolling out of bed. He had a tendency to wear sweater vests with white t-shirts underneath, or button-downs with jeans. But it was only when he showed off his forearms that you realized he was surprisingly built underneath his oversized clothes. He was tall and his shoulders were broad. You liked his glasses too; they always sat on the edge of his nose. A thin line was etched into both lenses, suggesting age, but they framed his face well.

Yeah, you thought to yourself, he is handsome.

“Why are you staring at me?” He asked, knocking you out of your stupor.

You blinked and looked down at your coffee, removing the lid. “Oh, I … uh … good question.”

“Listen,” he started, eyes flickering to his hands, “I’m really sorry about what I said –”

“You don’t have to keep apologizing.”

“– And I understand if you want to go to HR about this –”

You shook your head. “Wait, what? Why would I do that?”

He glanced around, until finally, his eyes were on you again. And suddenly, you were wondering if his eyes were dark brown or the color of cinnamon. “Isn’t that what any rational person would do?”

He had you stumped there. If this were a different situation … you probably would do that. “I’m not going to tell HR about this, Wonwoo. You apologized and said you didn’t mean it. I have to trust that.” And you didn’t trust lightly – hardly at all – but something about Wonwoo made you feel like it could be easy with him.

“We all have shit days,” you added, taking a sip of the scalding hot latte. “You have a ton of stuff on your plate. Doesn’t give you an excuse for what you did, but we all say things in the heat of the moment that we don’t mean. I have so many things to organize throughout the day, and sometimes it gets the better of me. Remember when I had book that last minute trip for our CEO and I was on the phone for hours with Delta and Suzanne in finance had the nerve to start bothering me about some invoice? I lost it on her for a straight minute.”

“Oh, my god, yeah,” he chuckled, pinching the bridge of his nose as the memory resurfaced. “Her eyes almost came out of her skull at your reaction. To be fair … Suzanne needs to be knocked down a peg sometimes. She always blames IT when she can’t get into her email, but it’s because she’s constantly typing her password with one letter off.”

You couldn’t help but giggle. Your hand hit the tabletop a few times as you let your workplace personality fade in front of your coworker. “Those new IT interns don’t know what’s coming once Suzanne comes for them,” you joked.

“The IT interns don’t know anything. Period.” He jabbed his finger onto the table. “I mean, they’re interns, but it takes so much time to train them. If I have to teach them JavaScript one more time …”

“Say it, Jeon Wonwoo,” you egged him on, a chuckle filtering at the end. “What will happen if you have to teach those good for nothing interns JavaScript?”

A slow smile made it’s way onto Wonwoo’s face, and … damn, you were actually a really cool person. “Well,” he cleared his throat, “I’ll tell you what will happen …”

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: Did you bring lunch today?

Jeon Wonwoo [12:13 PM]: I just found this new cafe down the street and was thinking about grabbing something there in a few. Did you wanna come?

You [12:14 PM]: Do you think they have a chicken salad sandwich on the menu

Jeon Wonwoo [12:15 PM]: I can only assume so?

You [12:15 PM]: SOLD

You both go out for more coffees, before and after work. You found yourself excited to wake up early, to meet up with Wonwoo at the coffee shop located in the lobby of your work building. Always getting there before him, you typically ordered two coffees – remembering his order to a T – and when he walked in five minutes late, he promised to buy the next round. You never let him.

You began planning lunches over Slack, discussing what was on special at that cafe he found last month. In fact, you two talked most of the day on Slack. A message from you had once gotten on his nerves, and now … he was eager for it. Eager to hear your thoughts throughout the day, excited to talk about what new dumb question an intern asked him today or to see more pictures of your grandma’s cats.

And Wonwoo … Wonwoo was easier to get along with than you thought. You just had to peel back the layers before he finally got comfortable, and honestly, you could relate. To be fair, you had a few more layers than he did, but he was slowly learning that you were more than what he perceived. After that first coffee, he realized how funny you were, and then a couple lunches later, he learned you were an avid romance and thriller reader – and nothing in between. It wasn’t until last week that he finally cracked you open enough to learn about your love for Elder Scrolls Online. He was sure you were joking at first, but when you clarified how serious you were, he almost fell off his chair.

“I’m not shocked that you play it,” he said over coffee one morning. “What I’m shocked at is that you’d rather play Elder Scrolls Online and not Skyrim.”

“Of course, you would say that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I don’t really have an interest in the game universe. I started playing Elder Scrolls Online to relieve stress while applying to colleges, and then I just … didn’t stop.” You shrugged.

Much to his own surprise – even with your take on Skyrim – Wonwoo thoroughly enjoyed your company. It was insane that you both had spent almost two years sitting across from each other before realizing how much you liked each other. Words always left unsaid. Eyes staying glued to computers. It had been a routine for you both that you had never strayed from – until now. So many tech requests over Slack … and now he was actively looking forward to work everyday. To seeing you. To talking with you. 

You.

Jeon Wonwoo realized how much he liked stockings. Specifically, he liked the way you looked in them.

And that’s when things got dangerous.

He started to notice the days you would wear them, and then concluded which day you did laundry. You liked wearing blouses with a pencil skirt and stockings on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Those were now his favorite days. 

Wednesdays you’d wear dress pants and maybe a sweater, whereas on “Casual Fridays,” you were clad in a t-shirt with a cardigan layered and jeans. You always looked nice at the office, but those stocking days … they were getting to him.

Sometimes, he’d watch the way you walked away from your desk – either to the Boss’ office or to the finance department – and he couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down your legs. You had these stockings that had a slight tear in the back, and he wondered if you realized, or was he just too much of a perverted loser to be the first person to notice? He wanted to purchase a new pair for you. He wanted to replace all your stockings and buy you enough that you could wear them with a skirt everyday, just so he could see you in them.

Maybe he was a loser.

You looked up at him, even in heels, and you had this way of smiling at him that left him questioning why you liked hanging out with him in the first place. His personality couldn’t be that charming to warrant your attention. But you were warm – even when your hands were perpetually cold – and kind, never straying once he was in front of you. And you had this lip gloss that stained your lips magenta and made them shine. Even in the dim fluorescent lights. When his chair turned just slightly and he let his eyes glaze over you, one finger rubbing at his top lip, he couldn’t help but be curious if the gloss had a flavor to it … and then, he’d get distracted by your legs again. And your blouse, and your hair. 

Don’t even get him started on the way you smelled.

Maybe he was a loser. No, he was most definitely a loser. 

It was a Thursday night. Almost 7 PM and you were still at the office. You had plans to go out tonight to celebrate your friend’s new job, but you ended up having to cancel when the Boss placed a stack of paperwork on your desk before leaving the building at promptly 6 o’clock. Why he couldn’t have given you all these invoices and memos hours ago was beyond you, but you weren’t even halfway through this stack and the janitor was now mopping beside you.

When a Slack notification appeared on the side of your monitor, you didn’t even read it before spinning around in your chair. There Wonwoo was, leaning back in his own chair while a progress window ticked on one of his dual monitors. You raised a brow. “I didn’t even hear you over there,” you commented. “Why are you still here?”

“A month or so ago, the IT head told me that we’d soon be transitioning servers, so all of our backups and data need to be transferred over to this new server.” He explained, adjusting his glasses and glancing over at the progress window. It changed from 23% to 24% finished. “Someone had to be the lucky person to stay after hours and make sure it all went smoothly.”

You twirled a pen in your two fingers and crossed your legs. “Oh, that sucks.” Your skirt hiked up a little, and just that small flash of exposed skin had Wonwoo averting his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’m assuming you’re still here because of that.” He nodded towards the pile of paper.

“No, no, obviously I love being here after hours with you,” you replied, sarcasm dripping from your tone, but it still ignited a short spark of hope within him. (Wonwoo, can you chill the fuck out? He chastised.) “You know the Boss has a penchant for letting invoices pile up. He just so happened to let that pile end up on my desk before he left today. And some of these needed to be filled out …” Your eyes skimmed the first paper on your desk. “Oh, yesterday!”

Wonwoo offered to help you while also keeping watch of his computer – 28% finished – but you insisted you could handle it. “I already bother you enough during work hours,” you said before turning back to your desk. He knew by now that you were simply too stubborn to give up control of the project. Once you had started it yourself, you needed to see it through. He wasn’t sure if you two were close enough that he could be completely honest, that he could tell you that it was fine to let go this independence that you kept on a tight leash. He was willing to help. (God, was he willing.) 

But he chocked it up to telling you once that you were “so fucking stubborn.”

Your reply had come in the form of a swift kick to his knee.

Wonwoo glanced at his monitor. 67% finished.

It was 10 PM and you were just about finished with the paperwork, but you were running on fumes. Just a few memos left and you’d be done. To get you through the next hour, you needed something. So you headed to the break room, suddenly craving some burnt workplace coffee. (What was it about this coffee maker that gave it such a distinct burnt flavor? You’d never know.) After placing the pod of coffee grounds in the slot and filling the water, you pressed the start button, turning around with a huff to see Wonwoo striding into the break room. A crushed, styrofoam coffee cup was clutched in his large hand before he tossed it in the barrel beside you. 

“How’s your transfer going?” You asked, crossing your arms over your chest. Coffee had started to pour from the machine and into your cup.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s at 88% now. Hopefully should be done in the next hour.”

“Me too, if all goes well.” A sigh escaped your lips. “I still have a few more papers to fill out. Shouldn’t take me more than an hour, but I haven’t looked through them all yet.”

Wonwoo stepped forward, reaching in the direction of the styrofoam cups. “If you had let me help you –”

You tried sidestepping out of the way to give him some room, but his hand brushed against your arm anyway. Your chin tilted up as your eyes met his, back pressing against the counter. “It wouldn’t have helped,” you finished for him.

His arm paused mid-air, and he looked down at you. Eyes narrowing, he replied, “You’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. You have this desperate need to be in control of everything.”

“And why is that a bad thing?” Your tone took a hard edge. The last thing you wanted right now was to put effort into arguing, but you were tired and already on the edge of a breakdown. “I’ve relied on myself for as long as I can remember. I like being in control. I like being stubborn. If I didn’t do most things myself –”

“You ask me to fix something on your computer at least once a day.”

“That’s different.”

“You’re right,” he agreed, and you noticed then just how close he was. Your chests were practically touching. “Sometimes you do try to figure things out yourself and almost break your hard drive.”

His progress window was probably at 93% finished now. He should head back to his desk, but his feet stayed planted right where they were.

“Why does it matter?” You exhaled loud, your hands slapping against your hips. “Do you want an award or something? You have your way of doing things, and I have mine. I’m not perfect, but I … I like things the way they are.” Change is scary, you thought to yourself, but didn’t dare voice it out loud.

He was so close that he could smell your perfume. The scent of lavender mixed with orange blossoms and vanilla filled his nostrils, swirling around his brain. He could get addicted to this smell, to you. Maybe he already was. When his eyes roamed down to your legs and he saw his favorite pair of stockings on you, he damn near collapsed. In fact, he hadn’t even realized the soft groan had left his lips until your gaze found his, your pretty irises growing wide.

You were just so … captivating.

His hands were on both sides of you, pressing your back further into the counter. Your black coffee steaming and fully abandoned in the coffee machine. He was holding himself back, his knuckles going white with restraint. But he wasn’t like you. He could only keep himself in control for so long. And with you here right now, your perfume surrounding him, your stockings-clad thigh brushing against his leg, your a hand placed on his chest … he was a goner.

“Wonwoo,” you whispered, palm still resting on his shirt, “we …”

When your voice trailed off, Wonwoo’s instincts got the better of him. “Please, just …” One hand came up to smooth against your cheek, and he was almost out of breath as he pulled your face to his. “Let me do this.”

He gave you enough time to shove him back, to yell at him, to tell him you didn’t like him in that way. But your neck was craning towards his, and he took that as a sign to crash his lips onto yours. They were softer than he expected, and the taste … your gloss tasted like – well, like nothing. But if he pretended, he could’ve sworn there was a slight cherry aftertaste. His glasses bumped into your nose, but he’d been too overwhelmed to remember to take them off. Mouth moving against yours, his hips crammed you more against the counter, hard enough to leave a bruise on your spine. You didn’t care though. His shoulders were so wide that they shielded you, inviting your body into his, and your fingers fisted into his button-up. Tongues tangled, eager to taste more and more of each other. 

Wonwoo could kiss you forever. You didn’t want him to stop.

But all good things must end. Because when he instinctively placed his leg between yours, he knew this was going too far. Especially because you two were still at work. In the break room.

He instantly removed his leg, his lips breaking from yours. Your eyes connected, the room filled with only the sounds of heavy breathing, before you wiped a trail of spit from your chin.

Wonwoo’s head spun behind him. Thank god, there was no CCTV camera by the coffee maker.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: Good morning.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:09 AM]: I shouldn’t have done that last night.

Jeon Wonwoo [9:10 AM]: Still friends?

You [9:14 AM]: We probably shouldn’t be talking about this on Slack

You [9:15 AM]: Here’s my number: 855-777-0821

You [9:18 AM]: But yes friends :D

Wonwoo did not want to be just friends. But he was utterly terrified of what you would say if he voiced that. You had kissed him back, yes, but … hadn’t you agreed to be friends far too quickly? You had both hung out post-kiss – he liked to call this period of time A.T.K. (after the kiss) – and you didn’t seem to be ruminating on it like he was. Of course, he didn’t know what you were thinking, and you could be so hard to read sometimes when your layers weren’t stripped back enough. But …

Could it really have meant nothing to you?

If that were the case, he didn’t know how it was possible for you. He couldn’t stop thinking about the kiss even if he tried. When he saw you the next day – Friday, January 9, A.T.K. – the first thing he noticed was your lip gloss and all he wanted was to have it smeared over his mouth again. He noticed the way your hair fell over your shoulder, remembering how soft the strands felt when his fingers had slipped between them. He noticed that you were wearing those jeans that hugged your ass just right, and – god, now he was wishing that he had touched more than just your cheek. Wonwoo wanted to touch you everywhere. And vice versa. He didn’t care if your hands were constantly freezing or if they were dry during the winter. He wanted you to touch him however you pleased. He wanted to grab you and kiss you and hold those cold hands in his warm ones –

Oh, my god. He had a boner. At work. Just the mere memory of a kiss had him shifting himself in his pants underneath his desk, hoping no one noticed.

Eventually, he stood up, trying to keep a casual hand over the bulge in his pants as he fast walked to the bathroom. Nobody batted an eye, but you did steal a glance over at him once his back was turned. Your brow raised at the way he was practically sprinting for the elevator, not realizing that he was heading for the second floor restrooms. He must be excited for something. Probably a package, you thought before turning back to your computer.

Wonwoo felt like he could finally breathe once he was inside a stall. He rested his head against the cool tile wall, feeling the ache start to settle in his groin. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. What 28-year-old gets a boner from a kiss? You had him acting like a goddamn teenager.

What had you done to him? Just one kiss and he was completely under your spell.

(Or maybe he’d been this way all along.)

His fingers fumbled with the zipper on his jeans as he finally pulled himself out of his jeans, stroking from base to tip. Thankfully, no one was in the bathroom. He couldn’t believe his life had come to this. The last thing he ever wanted was to be that guy who jacked off in the bathroom. But you had to wear those goddamn jeans –

Wonwoo wasn’t good at hiding his feelings, but he was doing a pretty good job even as this was killing him inside. He wasn’t like you; he found it hard to restrain himself, to ignore everything that was bubbling up inside him. He could feel himself cracking. What would be the thing that finally broke him?

The answer was simple: alcohol.

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: Dude lol. Why’d you run away from your desk like that

Lee Seokmin [11:26 AM]: I think you could win the Olympics with that kind of sprint!

Jeon Wonwoo [11:39 AM]: Don’t ask.

Lee Seokmin [11:40 AM]: Alrighty then ;)

Lee Seokmin [11:41 AM]: On another note … you free next Thursday? My buddy in the marketing department, Josh, finally has a night off from his kid so we were thinking of getting a group together for drinks after work. Interested?

The last thing you ever expected was to be invited to drinks with Seokmin and some of the managers in marketing, but Wonwoo said you should come. “In fact,” he had clarified, “you should come so I don’t have to deal with DK’s drunk antics all night.” Who were you to deprive him of your presence when he was that desperate? Plus, there was a nice girl in marketing that was also invited; maybe tonight was the night to befriend her.

But the marketing people knew how to party. You were only halfway through your second beer whereas the rest of your group was on their fourth. And three tequila shots deep. Wonwoo, seemingly, had an affinity for tequila, unlike yourself. He was able to throw them back like it was nothing; he didn’t even need a chaser. When Seokmin had requested they all get a fourth, he was met with a round of cheers, and even Wonwoo – quiet, introverted Wonwoo – threw his hands up with excitement. You placed a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear, “Are you sure about that?”

Wonwoo felt his whole body freeze when your hot breath reached his ear. A pale, pink flush appeared on his cheeks, but you chocked it up to how drunk he was. Eventually, he waved away your worry with his hand. “I’m fiiiiiiiiine. Hey, how about I get you another beer?”

“Are you even coherent enough to get me another –”

“HEY! Bartender! Can I get one more of these?!” He shouted, waving your empty glass in the air. “Oh, and more tequila!”

Seokmin slapped a hand on his friend’s shoulder, laughing along with him. As you made friends with the rest of the marketing department, you found yourself glancing at Wonwoo every so often. His cheeks were so rosy now, and his glasses kept slipping down his nose. To be fair though, everyone in this dive bar seemed to be in the same state of mind. Seokmin was singing along to the Sabrina Carpenter song blasting through the speakers. Josh was so drunk that he was crying about how much he loved his friends. They had even gotten Suzanne in finance to come out, and she was making friends with everyone for once. And Wonwoo … oh, god, Wonwoo’s head was now on the bar top and he was closing his eyes –

You abandoned your beer and walked over to your friend, shaking his shoulders. His eyes instantly opened, expecting to see Seokmin, but when his gaze met yours, he instantly felt all warm and fuzzy. “Okay,” you said, trying your best to hoist this 6 foot man off the barstool, “you’ve had enough. I’m taking you home.”

It was like pulling teeth to get him to tell you his address, but you guessed you shouldn’t be surprised when the man on your arm was blackout drunk. After flagging a taxi, you shoved him in the seat next to you and rubbed your hands together to get them warm. Wonwoo’s head was on your shoulder the second you sat down, his eyes fluttering closed as the taxi sped off into the night. You watched his fingers twitch on his thigh as he whispered sleepily, “I think my family would really like you.”

“Is that so?” You chuckled, squeezing his arm for reassurance, but little did you know just how much your touch effected him. “Why’s that?”

“Because you’re you,” he replied, and then yawned. “Only you and Mingyu would do this for me.”

Your brow furrowed. “Who’s Mingyu?”

The taxi pulled up to a brick apartment building then, and your cold fingers struggled to get cash out from your pocket while Wonwoo was practically laying on top of you. Finally, you did your best to haul him out of the seat, thanking the taxi driver before gathering an arm around Wonwoo’s shoulders. The building was definitely old with vines of ivy crawling up one side. There was a dead tree with snow covering it’s branches directly by the door, spilling snowflakes on your head as you struggled to input the code Wonwoo managed to remember. And then, you were pulling him up two flights of stairs, which took far longer than you estimated. You had basically ripped his keys from his hand once you reached his apartment and continued to drag him inside, laying him on the old couch that was conveniently right near the door.

Wonwoo grumbled as soon as his head hit the armrest, and he almost fell off the couch if it weren’t for you catching him and rolling him back onto the cushion. “I’m going to go get you a glass of water,” you said, quickly rushing off to his kitchen. “Please, for the love of god, don’t fall off the couch again.”

He whined for you to come back, but you pretended you didn’t hear it, because if you did, you’d have to reckon with the tingle that bloomed between your legs at the sound of his desperation.

The entrance of his kitchen was right in front of a small hallway that sectioned off two ways. There was a bedroom door on each side of the hall, and once you walked inside the kitchen, you found a tiny table from the 80s and the dishwasher currently running. You didn’t have time to contemplate that now, and instead pilfered through his cabinets until you found a glass and filled it with tap water. Rushing back to his side, Wonwoo was already laying halfway off the couch and you sighed.

You set the glass of water on his coffee table and lifted him back up. With a little bit of help from you, you both managed to shrug off his winter jacket and you tucked a throw blanket over him to prevent him from falling off again. A heavy exhale slipped past your lips as you knelt by his side, and you couldn’t help but reach out to pushed back his hair from his forehead. His eyes were closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You smiled to yourself.

Were coworkers supposed to show this much affection for each other?

“Wonwoo,” you said softly, and he cracked one eye open. “Do you want some water?”

He shut that eye again, grimacing at the thought of anything entering his body right now. “Ab…absolutely not.”

“It’ll make you feel better,” you persuaded, but he still shook his head. “Okay, so what do you want right now?”

His breath stilled for a moment. “Can I be honest?”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

“I …” No, he couldn’t be that honest. “I want you to … keep p–pushing back my hair. It’s … relaxing.”

You chuckled, “Okay, you got it.” Your fingers were at the crown of his head again, smoothing back the strands. You hadn’t noticed until now that he had a freckle on the left side of his forehead; maybe you’d just never been this close to notice. Well, actually, you had. There was this thing you two did called a kiss –

“If you’re going to fall asleep, I’m going to take off your glasses,” you informed him, slipping his glasses off and setting them by his glass of water. It was late, much later than you anticipated on staying out, and you both still had to go to work tomorrow. 

But then his hand was grabbing your wrist, his grip surprisingly firm for how intoxicated he was. “Can I b–be honest again?” He slurred, his eyes half open to meet yours.

You sighed, placing your hand on top of his, thumb brushing over his knuckles. “Just know whatever you say will be used to make fun of you tomorrow –”

“I can’t … I haven’t …” He took a breath to formulate the words in his head. “… Stopped thinking about our kiss.”

You blinked down at him, watching the way his eyes began to close again as he relaxed into the old couch cushions. “You can’t just say shit like –”

He scoffed dramatically. “I’m noooot,” he defended, his hand slipping off your wrist to curl underneath the blanket.

“Wonwoo …” Your voice trailed off, the words dying on your tongue.

“Who the hell are you?”

You immediately got to your feet at the sound of another person’s voice behind you. Eyes growing wide, you took in the sight of the man in front of you wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chiseled abdomen as he shook a smaller towel through his hair. He might’ve been taller than Wonwoo, only by a little bit, and his skin was a golden tan that reminded you of summertime even in this harsh winter. Why was Wonwoo hiding handsome men in his apartment? The man looked at you, waiting for an answer, his brows raised.

“Oh,” you cleared your throat. “Um …”

“Leave her alone, Mingyu,” Wonwoo groaned from the couch, turning away from them to lay on his side.

So this was Mingyu, you concluded. This slightly god-like dude that looked like he walked straight out of a porno was the only other person who’d help Wonwoo when he was blackout drunk. Interesting.

Mingyu raised his hand awkwardly for you to shake. “His roommate,” he clarified.

“Oh,” you replied, grasping his hand for a moment and telling him your name. 

Mingyu instantly grinned, laying the small towel over his neck, holding both ends. “So you’re her.”

You blinked, not knowing how to respond to that. Perhaps there was no way to respond; the silence was comfortable enough. You decided to keep that in mind for later though.

“He’s … well, he got very drunk,” you informed Mingyu, gesturing to a now-sleeping Wonwoo with both thumbs. “I wanted to make sure he got home okay.”

Mingyu nodded, and then sighed. “I’ll take care of him. Don’t worry,” he promised, opening up the door for you. “Get home safe, okay?”

Wonwoo: Sorry about that the other night. I won’t get drunk like that again. It doesn’t happen very often

You: it’s okay! I’m used to handling drunk people

You: don’t get me wrong, I like to have my fun but it’s easier for me to take care of other people than like … be incoherent and anxious lol

Wonwoo: By the end of the night I was starting to feel that way. Not fun

You: DRINK WATER

You: your roommate is hot btw. does he always walk around without a shirt?

Wonwoo: Of course, he didn’t have a shirt on when you met him

Wonwoo: Everyone likes Mingyu

You: well, I like you [UNSENT]

The bi-annual sales meeting was started to boost morale and talk with other departments that you didn’t see as often. It was typically held at a hotel in the downtown city, with the company flying in all the sales reps from across the country. There were even a few from overseas. In reality though, this was usually the week where coworkers made mistakes. At least one person was let go after these sales meetings, and HR had their eyes peeled for an entire week.

You never made a mistake at one of these. And you didn’t expect to any time soon.

This was a week of rubbing elbows with slimy sales reps and making sure some old man hadn’t spiked your drink. For most, this was a week to slack off, but a woman working in corporate couldn’t relax in these settings. You’d been making corrections to your boss’ presentation for the entire company for what felt like forever. (Realistically, it’d been almost two weeks.) You probably went through the 50 slides at least twice as much, checking for spelling mistakes and making sure it was in the right place on your desktop. Not on some random external hard drive. Not in the trash. 

But it was finally the day you’d been dreading. Presentation day, and everyone at the company was eager to hear the Boss reveal if they hit their goal for the year, amongst other things. You checked the slides another time, and then made sure no one would trip over the HDMI cord connected to the projector. The Boss gave you a reassuring smile, and then it was go time.

Your boss could be a shit bag – what CEO wasn’t? – but he had a way of speaking that made everyone so excited for the future. He was probably the reason why morale was always so high, and everyone looked forward to his presentation at these meetings. Your finger hovered over the right arrow button as he went through his speech, pointing out company statistics and what he wanted them all to accomplish this year, before finally getting to the goal reach. And his answer was nothing short of what the audience wanted to hear. He congratulated all of them, and everyone clapped together at the good news.

When you looked out at the crowd that had gathered, you realized almost every seat in the ballroom was filled. Some were even standing near the door and – wait, there was Wonwoo, leaning against the wall in the back. IT didn’t need to be here for this presentation. In fact, they were encouraged to be doing other things, like manning a table near HR and offering on-the-spot tech help. A smile made it’s way to your lips, watching the way Wonwoo was listening intently.

Once the presentation was over and the room erupted in small talk, your boss came over and thanked you for helping out yet again. “Of course,” you replied, as if there was anything else to say. He gave you a comforting squeeze of the hand before walking off to talk to some of his favorite sales reps.

As you shut your laptop and began to place your things in your backpack, Wonwoo slipped into the chair beside yours. Just the sight of his grin set you at ease, but also made you nervous at the same time. Why were you suddenly so nervous? This was just Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo. Just Wonwoo. Just … your Wonwoo.

“Congratulations,” he beamed, giving you a high five. “I know you’ve been working on this all week, but you did it!”

You always stressed so much about this presentation, but at the end of the day … “All I did was press a button,” you shrugged.

Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t accidentally delete your file like every other time you’ve messaged me on Slack.” He chuckled, and you scoffed at his teasing. “I’d call that a win.”

The second to last night of sales meeting week was the longest night of the year. It was a tradition for everyone to go out to a bar the company rented out, drinking whatever alcohol they could get their hands on while celebrating a job well done. You only saw half these people twice a year, and half of the time they’d have a beer in their hands. 

You did your best to ignore every sales rep that tried to speak with you without slurring their words, but that was damn near impossible when some were already on their second cocktail. However, no matter how embarrassing it was, you did allow them to compliment you and your hard work. Who were you to turn down the validation? And when the time came, even your boss came over to compliment you again, and you realized there was truly nothing like being good at your job. 

Just for a moment, everything felt okay. It was like the loneliness dissipated, the sting of years without pleasure or having someone by your side … it all faded when you were rewarded for your hard work.

Maybe tonight was the night you had fun for once.

When you finally found Wonwoo later that night, he was surrounded by a few younger members of the IT team, debating what computer language everyone should be obligated to learn. You waved to him from where you stood by the bar top, and that was all it took to have him walking away from his team and towards you. He wrapped one arm around your shoulders, insisting to buy you drinks for the rest of the night, and you didn’t hesitate to agree. If there was anyone here you trusted enough to hand you a drink, it was Wonwoo.

Just Wonwoo.

The hour was reaching midnight now, and you weren’t sure how many martinis you had, but you were hiccuping a storm. That was a telltale sign that you were totally, thoroughly drunk. Wonwoo was only drinking beer and pacing himself, unlike that night at the dive bar, but he was enjoying the sight of you finally letting loose. You hung on his arm, staring up at him with your big eyes, glazing over from all the alcohol coursing through your system. He didn’t like how this effected him; he shouldn’t be attracted to the way your gaze looked while you were intoxicated. But he couldn’t help but wonder if your eyes held the same shine while your lips were wrapped around his –

No, this was too much. He should take you back to the hotel.

The two of you glanced around the bar, realizing it was mostly cleared out. You definitely needed to leave now.

He tugged on your arm, wrapping one of his around your waist to support you. “C’mon now,” he grunted, helping you walk out. “Let’s get you back.”

“I didn’t f–finish my drink thoooooough,” you argued, despite letting him lead you out of the bar. “And I can walk … on my own. Swear!”

“Listen, you took care of me once,” he said as you two walked into the brisk cold air. The hotel was, thankfully, only a block away. “Let me take care of you.”

Even with the alcohol pumping in your veins, just the sound of those words falling from his mouth made you grip him tighter. You felt like your bones were made of jelly, and it wasn’t just from the vodka. It was him, and the way he made you feel, and how secretly warm he was, and the way he took care of you as you took care of him, and – oh, god, you wanted to cry because you liked Jeon Wonwoo so much.

So, so much.

It was much easier to get you back to your hotel room than his apartment, seeing as this hotel had a working elevator. You slumped beside him, tripping over your feet every so often, as he hauled you down the hallway to your room. You gave him your keycard easily, and once the door was open, he squeezed your hand to silently let you know it was time to move again. He helped you into the room, shutting the door behind him, before laying you down on your bed with the clumsiness only he could have. 

You were laughing now, hiccuping from the alcohol, but laughing nonetheless. And he was laughing at your hiccups. Or maybe he just liked the way you grinned at him.

He assisted with taking off your boots and jacket, too embarrassed to remove anything else. And it definitely wasn’t appropriate to either. Tearing back the covers, he nestled you underneath them, and said, “You got everything, right? I’m a call away if you need me.” He grabbed one of the small trash cans in the room and placed it at your bedside. “If you need to vomit and can’t make it to the bathroom, just use the trash can here –”

You hand came out to wrap around his forearm. “Stay, Wonwoo.”

Your sleepy eyes were killing him, making his inhibitions melt and his cock throb at the same time. He sighed, sitting on the side of the mattress, and before he could stop himself, he was tucking hair behind your ear. “You know I can’t do that,” he said, his voice like a caress. “You know how it would look if someone saw me leave this room tomorrow morning. HR is on all our asses this week.”

“I know,” you slurred, and then pressed your flushed cheek into his palm. “I j–just thought you … were taking care of me thoooooooough …”

His resolve crumbled into a million pieces. This was complete, utter torture. You had to know how you effected him, but of course you didn’t, because you were stretching under the covers and yawning like you didn’t just make his heart stop. 

That’s how he ended up in your bed, shutting off the lights and settling underneath the comforter. Until you came closer and rested your head on his chest. Despite how fast his heart was beating, he felt so at peace, and you both fell asleep in the clothes you wore out tonight.

Only a few hours later, you woke with a clear head and the beginning of a hangover. Your head was pounding like crazy, and it took everything in you to slip out from the comfort of your bed and pad your feet over to the bathroom. The bright light was burning your eyes, but you needed it to find the Tylenol you left by the sink. Filling a cup with water, you took the medication and prayed it worked sooner rather than later.

You squinted at yourself in the mirror, realizing you were still in the outfit you wore yesterday. With a sigh, you picked up the big t-shirt you left on the floor yesterday morning and stripped yourself until you were in nothing but your underwear. You pulled the t-shirt on and slumped against the wall, pressing your forehead against the cold tile. Now this felt like heaven for your headache.

It took a couple of minutes to get yourself to move again, feet slapping against the floor as you walked out of the bathroom. You noticed Wonwoo was awake too, in the midst of slinking back under the covers, and you saw his jeans abandoned by his bedside.You crawled back to your cocoon of blankets, and he instantly wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you against his chest. And you … you didn’t move away. In fact, you pressed yourself closer, finally hearing how his heart raced. Wonwoo didn’t care if it was probably 4 AM and he probably had to leave in a few hours – before anyone else woke – because he was holding you and smelling you hair. You smelled … god, you smelled so good that it made him hard almost instantly.

You felt his hand splay against your spine, as if trying to hold himself back, and it was then that your eyes opened. The room was dark, but you knew when his gaze was burning into yours only seconds later. You slipped one hand out from the covers, cupping his cheek as your thumb brushed over his lower lip. Under his breath, he muttered a soft, “Shit,” because you both knew where this was going.

You agreed you wouldn’t do this again. You agreed to be friends.

But now you’re kissing again.

Your hand moved from his face to his neck, and his hands are gripping your cheeks to make sure your mouth stayed on his. His fingers were shaking. He kissed you desperately, as if he needed this just to be able to breathe again, and maybe he did. You were like putty in his hands, molding yourself to his body as your tongue tangled with his. Whatever ache you felt in your temples drifted between your legs, causing you to moan into his mouth. And fuck, just the sound of you made his cock swell, precum soaking through his boxers.

The room felt so hot all of a sudden, but your cold hands came in handy as they rested on his neck. His left hand slid down to your ass, finally giving it a firm squeeze after kicking himself for not doing it when he first kissed you. That made you moan again, and he decided he’d never stop touching you like this, just so he could hear these sounds fall from your lips.

He slid his knee between your legs on instinct, and you didn’t hesitate to start grinding against his thigh. The friction felt delicious and soothing. You both kissed each other slower, a little messier, focusing on touching each other everywhere you dreamed about all these months. Your fingers traced down the column of his neck, down the thin cotton of the shirt he was still wearing from yesterday, while bucking against his thigh. His lips left yours, dragging across your cheek so he could nibble on your earlobe, feeling it grow warm and red from all the attention. “You have no idea how long I’ve needed you,” he whispered, and you damn near almost came from that confession.

You weren’t used to this; you couldn’t remember the last time you experienced pleasure like this with someone, but you couldn’t imagine stopping. Not when he angled his thigh just right, the muscle in his leg rubbing against your clit, your panties completely soaked. You cupped him over his boxers, feeling his bulge throb in your palm, and you cooed, “Can I …”

He groaned. You didn’t need to say more; Wonwoo was smart enough to know what you were insinuating. He felt disoriented, drunk off of you and your touch, smell, everything. “Are you … are you sure you don’t want to …” His voice was giving out, but from the way your fingers were slipping under the waistband of his boxers, you knew you wanted just this, and he’d give you whatever you wanted. “Yes. Yes, of course. That’s fine,” he finished.

You chuckled softly. He smiled against your neck. Pulling his cock out and wrapping your palm around it, you began to stroke him slowly. “Oh, god,” he was sighing into the crook of your neck, his brain in such a state of disarray when you resumed grinding against his leg while also pumping him from base to tip. This couldn’t be real; he had to be dreaming, but he could feel your wet panties sticking to his thigh. He could feel himself shake as he clung to you and pressed sloppy, wet kisses to your throat. It was all too much, but not enough at the same time. 

“Wonwoo,” you whimpered, and he dragged his lips back to yours just to feel how your mouth moved when you said his name. You bucked your hips faster, your arousal coating his thigh, and warmth bloomed between your legs. When your hand on his cock reached his head again, you rubbed the pad of your thumb over his slit, making more precum bead onto your knuckles. “Wanna cum with you,” you begged, stroking him faster and in time with your hips.

“I know you do, I know,” he breathed against your lips. “Just a little faster … yes, just like that. Fuck.”

Only a moment later were you trembling, hips stuttering as pleasure took over your body. You came hard, squeezing his thigh between your legs, and your cry was swallowed by Wonwoo’s lips. If he didn’t kiss you, he knew he’d moan so loud it would wake the entire hotel. Because – oh, god, he was cumming now, and he was sighing against your mouth as he erupted in your hand, ropes of cum staining your t-shirt. He could’ve swore he saw white. He’d never felt a release like this before; not with anyone else. Not even when he jerked off. But maybe it was because this was your hand and you were cumming on his leg, and fuck –

You were still shaking in each other’s arms, minds blank and reeling, bodies coming down from the high. It took the kind of strength that moved mountains to slip from his arms and clean yourself up. But by the time you came back from the bathroom and cuddled up next to him, Wonwoo was already fast asleep.

Jeon Wonwoo [6:08 AM]: I had to leave early this morning before anyone woke. But if you want, I’d like to see you at breakfast this morning :)

You [7:31 AM]: Jeon Wonwoo, I’m begging you to just text this to me

You [7:31 AM]: Also, was your phone hacked? Since when do you use emojis?

There wasn’t much to do on the last day of sales meeting week. The only things on your plate were to make niceties with some of the new reps, and probably attend a few presentations by HR. When you had finally woken up this morning to just you in the bed, you almost considered skipping the HR presentations, feeling too guilty and like they might see right through you. It was irrational, but you were sure that this was the only way to feel after realizing that you hooked up with your coworker and friend. 

Not that you hadn’t wanted to. Not that you hadn’t been thinking about it since your kiss. No, it wasn’t like that at all.

So why were suddenly terrified to see him at breakfast?

You got ready as quick as you could – but of course, making sure you wore that V-neck sweater that showed off your cleavage just right – and threw your hair up before leaving your hotel room. The line for the breakfast buffet was packed, but you waited patiently and decided to sit near the bar once you plate was full. The rest of the dining room was filled with people and you weren’t awake enough to make shitty small talk. Sitting here at the bar top was peaceful and quiet –

“Is this … seat taken?”

Your eyes met his instantly, and you noticed the way Wonwoo was cringing at the line he threw at you. You decided to forget it, for his sake, and gestured for him to sit down. Fuck, you were so goddamn nervous, even though you had agreed to meet him in the first place. You wore this low-cut sweater for him. You both sat in silence for a bit, crunching awkwardly on the burnt bacon, and shifting in your seats. 

“Did you …” You were surprised that your mouth was moving on it’s own volition, spilling any words that came to your head. “… Do anything this morning since you were up early?”

Wonwoo choked a bit on a strawberry, but recovered quickly. “Uh … yeah, yeah, sure. Once I came down here, one of the IT interns found me in a panic because he couldn’t set up one of the rep’s new work phones. Created a whole scene over nothing.”

You snorted and sipped your coffee. “Is that intern still breathing?”

His eyes flickered to yours, a slow smile growing on his face. “Yes, actually.”

You fell into sync then, letting the awkward silence melt away as you joked about Wonwoo’s interns. He wasn’t meant to teach college students, god help them. But as your plates became empty and a server came around to take them, you two were left with only the mugs in your hands, strangely reminiscent of that apology coffee he bought for you so long ago.

Wonwoo sighed. “Hey, so about last night – or I guess, this morning …”

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you interjected, setting your coffee down. “I have a hangover, but I am thriving.”

He blinked. “Well, that’s good. But I was referring to –”

You almost couldn’t look at him when you said, “The fact that we’re definitely not just friends anymore?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, that part.”

“I …” You licked your lips as you gathered yourself. There was this … terrifying flutter in your chest. You’d never felt something like this before, but you weren’t keen on letting it go. Not yet. “I would like to see you again. Like that. Definitely not during work hours. If you catch my drift. This is awkward.”

Wonwoo had to turn his head so you wouldn’t see him trying to hold in his laughter, but it was clear as day. You sighed loud and hit his arm, making him look at you once again as he snickered to himself. “You know, you could just ask me if I want to hang out.”

You leveled a look at him and huffed. “Okay, Wonwoo, do you –”

“Yes,” he beamed. “Always, yes.”

You found yourself at Wonwoo’s side more often than not. What used to be work get togethers transitioned to meeting up at a bar, or checking a new restaurant on the weekends. Sometimes he’d ask you to come over so you could taste test a new recipe he found. (Unfortunately for both of you, Wonwoo wasn’t very good at cooking, but he was getting better. Somewhat.) Those recipe nights, however, always led to him lifting you up on his creaky kitchen counter and kissing you so hard that you almost forgot to breathe. Until Mingyu came into the kitchen, making a gagging sound, and you two instantly detached from each other.

Friday nights were known as Mingyu’s Movie Nights, and Wonwoo began inviting you to those. He had said that this would help knock a few movies off your Letterboxd Watchlist, but you knew that was just an excuse for wanting to see you. You probably saw him more than anyone now, but you couldn’t deny that you … wanted to see him too. Having him in your life made everything suddenly better. He was kind and smart and thoughtful. He made you laugh in ways you couldn’t explain, and obviously … he didn’t have to do much to make you want him. He’d simply have to look at you and you’d get on his lap. If Mingyu wasn’t there, of course.

Wonwoo seemed to blossomed with you. He was more excited to leave his apartment, more eager to become a better cook. He spoke up often, whether it be at work or out with you, rather than letting someone talk. He wanted to learn all the things that you liked, wanted to touch you exactly where you needed it, wanted to find new ways to leave you breathless. Because it was for you.

Even Mingyu noticed a difference in his friend. He’d known Wonwoo for so many years now, but he’d never made this much of a change for anyone. One night, when you and Mingyu were alone in the kitchen, he mentioned, “He’s different around you.” And then kept pouring wine in three glasses while Wonwoo picked a movie from the living room.

There were also times where Wonwoo was a booty call, of course, and neither of you had any problems with that. Some nights, Wonwoo would call you after Mingyu went to bed, begging you to come over, but ended up settling for phone sex. His attraction to you in stockings only went up, and it was difficult for him to contain his arousal at work when you strutted around just knowing how it affected him. There was days where all he wanted to do was pull you into a janitor closet and fuck the living daylights out of you. But it wasn’t like you’d let him anyway.

You had your fair share of desperate moments too. Especially tonight, as you were out drinking with your friends at a local spot you’d been coming to for years. The live band was loud and you’d had your fair share of shitty margaritas already. One of your friends was tugging on the arm of some rando she met on the dance floor, yelling over the music that she was leaving and she’d text you when she was home safe. That left you shit out of luck for a ride home, and suddenly very lonely. The last thing you wanted was to drink alone at a shitty bar on a Saturday night.

Wandering outside, your heeled boots crunched in the snow as you looked for the nearest Uber. The fastest one around would take over 20 minutes to get to you, and as you looked around the empty city streets … wait, didn’t Wonwoo live around here? Maybe all the tequila was just getting to you. But you called him anyway, and despite the time reaching 1 AM, he answered instantly. He heard the slight lisp in your voice, and once he got out of you exactly where you were, he realized you were right. It only took him about 10 minutes to get to where you were, parking on the side of the road. 

He sighed at the sight of you sitting on the curb, shivering and hugging your jacket around you. Various drunk people filtered in and out of the bar, but none of them checked on you – a freezing girl just sitting on the side of the road. “Why didn’t you wait inside for me?” He asked, his breath hot against your cheek when he pulled you up in his arms. Your dress rode up a little, and his hands were quick to yank it back down. “It’s the middle of winter.”

“I jusssst thought … the cold air would sssssober me up,” you slurred, letting him place you in his passenger seat before running back over to the driver’s side. His car was warm, making you bury yourself in your jacket, but his hand on your thigh was even warmer somehow. If your fingers weren’t so cold, you’d wrap your hand around his wrist, inching his palm up higher as he drove.

Once he was parked, he wasted no time getting you out and helping you up the stairs to his apartment. Mingyu was passed out on the couch, an old movie from the 80s playing on the TV, but you could hardly register it because your brain was spinning and Wonwoo was practically dragging you to his bedroom. He was grateful that all the lights were off so you couldn’t see how messy it was, but honestly, it was a miracle if you could see anything clearly right now.

He sat you down on the bed and you looked up at him with bleary eyes, which made you so fucking hard to resist. All the tequila you drank was pumping through your bloodstream, and you couldn’t help but fist your hands in his t-shirt and try to kiss him. He evaded your lips though – no matter how much he wanted to – and you whined, “Whyyyyyy won’t you kiss me?”

“Shhh …” He whispered, yanking off your boots. “Inside voice. Mingyu’s sleeping.”

You smacked your hands against his mattress. “He’s sleeping in the living room!”

Wonwoo got back to his feet, gesturing as he instructed, “Arms up.” You were too intoxicated to do anything but oblige, lifting your arms as he struggled to pull your dress over your head. Once it was off and thrown to the side with your boots, your hazy vision caught him looking through his drawers for clothes for you to wear. But didn’t he just take your clothes off? You could’ve sworn he did that because he wanted you too right now.

You protested when he tried putting you in one of his simple white tees, but your body felt too limp to fight. He slipped the shirt over your head before pulling back his comforter and wrapping you in it. With your eyes half open, you watched him come to the other side of the bed, yanking his pants down and crawling in bed beside you. He reached over you and set his glasses on the side table. You sighed dramatically. Now he was just torturing you. Wonwoo simply chuckled to himself, realizing what you were angry about.

His arms instantly wound around you, his lips pulled into a smile at your hairline. You looked up at him with a scowl and your voice slurred, “Whysss your eyes closed?”

Wonwoo snickered under his breath. “Because it’s late and I’m tired.” His hand on your lower back traced circles, attempting to coax you to sleep.

“I thought you wanted meeeee,” you complained. Your hand reached in between you two, smoothing your palm against his groin as he slowly started to harden under your touch. You heard his breath hitch slightly, so you kept going, a soft ache beginning between your own legs at just the thought of putting him in your mouth. 

“Sweetheart, I always want you.” He then grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from him, and then lacing your fingers together. Pressing a kiss to the side of your forehead, he sighed sleepily, “But you’re much sexier when you’re sober.”

You started to realize why you didn’t usually do this, why it had been so long since you let someone see every part of you. What you looked like completely stripped down – both inside and out – completely vulnerable for your person. How your face contorted during pleasure, and how it relaxed when you were taken care of.

Catching feelings like this meant giving up control.

You didn’t work on the weekends unless you had to, and when the Boss sent you a high priority email on Saturday morning, you didn’t hesitate. He had transferred over a bunch of sensitive files that were needed for a board presentation first thing Monday morning. But of course, something just had to go wrong: the files were corrupted and you had no way of figuring out what to do. And it wasn’t like your boss was on call like you were on a Saturday.

This was how you ended up at Wonwoo’s apartment.

You had called him in a panic, explaining what had went wrong, but he didn’t seem too fazed. He was used to your tech emergencies by now. But by the time you got to his apartment, out of breath after running from the train station, he had realized just how serious you were taking this. You both sat down on his couch and you let him work his magic. His fingers moved across the keys as if he were a musician, and you couldn’t stop biting your nail nervously.

Mingyu came back to the apartment after grocery shopping, waving at you before putting all the food away. Seeing as you were here, maybe they could all go out and have fun tonight. He went into the living room, ready to mention a band that was playing at a local venue later, but upon seeing the stressed look on both your faces, he exhaled. “It’s a Saturday,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Why do you two look like that?”

“Corrupted documents,” Wonwoo answered quickly, not even looking up from the monitor. 

“I don’t even want to know more,” he said, grabbing his leather jacket from the coat rack and tugging his arms through the sleeves. “Just your faces are making me anxious. I’m heading out. Don’t wait up.”

You gave Mingyu a wave as he left, but Wonwoo was too focused to even say goodbye. It took about another hour and one cup of coffee, but Wonwoo eventually figured out how to uncorrupt the files. You let out a sigh of relief as he handed the laptop back to you and you were able to open each of them without issue. Thank god, you had managed to figure this out before Monday morning. And … having Wonwoo wasn’t too bad either.

“Thank you,” you beamed, not being able to resist pinching his cheek. “My hero.”

Silence engulfed the room as you both noticed how the sky was already getting dark. You cleared your throat, slipping your laptop back into your bag and muttering, “Thanks again. I know I kind of barged in and wasted your Saturday afternoon –”

Like the saint he was, Wonwoo simply smiled at you. “No time with you is a waste.”

Whatever words you were about to say clogged in your throat. You swallowed hard, attempting to hide your fluster, but you ended up choking out, “I … should go.”

“You don’t have to.” He stood from the couch, walking over to you and running his hands down your arms. His brow lifted. “Do you want to?”

You let the strap of your bag fall to the floor as your hands cupped his neck. “No, not particularly.”

Wonwoo chuckled, leaning in and letting his lips just lightly graze yours. “We have the place to ourselves,” he hummed, slowly dragging you backwards with him. “Mingyu’s gone … probably won’t be back until midnight.”

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle, letting him lead you to his room, as limp as a rag doll. Once he shut his bedroom door behind you, he flicked the light on. You pressed your back against the door and your eyes roamed around the space. This was the first time you saw his bedroom with the light on; every other time had been pitch black. You liked that his walls weren’t bare – they were filled with posters of his favorite musicians or photographs. On his desk was a large monitor and a gaming set up, but also a camera with stacks of film next to it. His furniture was old – probably from the 90s, probably passed down from his family – but the scratches within the wood told a story. And unlike most men, his sheets were gray.

Wonwoo realized you were scanning his room, and he became acutely aware of the clothes scattered amongst his floor. He muttered something to himself, beginning to pick up the clothes piles and chuck them into his hamper. “Sorry,” he murmured. “I wish I inherited the organized gene like Mingyu.”

You tilted your head, striding over and pulling him up, making him halt his actions. Your hands went to his face as you brought him closer. With a smile, you whispered, “I don’t want to talk about Mingyu,” before pressing your lips to his.

The kiss became deep far too quickly, or maybe time was passing faster than usual. Your lips crashed so hard against his that they’d bruise. He took off his glasses, setting them on his drawer, before his fingers hooked into the belt loops of your jeans. You stepped forward, making him step back, then another, and another – until you had him falling back on his bed. You straddled him, arching your back so you could lick into his mouth just how he liked. Hands sliding up his shirt, you felt his abdomen flex underneath you. His fingers in your belt loops jerked you closer, pressing your hips to his, and it wasn’t long before he was moaning into the kiss.

You smiled against his mouth, dragging your lips down his neck, and then even further, as you slinked down his body. Your eyes were trained on his, and he was trying his best not to look like a complete idiot in front of you. But it was difficult when you were looking at him with those eyes and – oh, now you were pulling down the waistband of his sweatpants, practically salivating when you noticed how hard he was already.

But … this was what you guys always did. Not that he had an issue with you giving him blow jobs, but none of this felt particularly intimate. You never really let him worship you; you took control of the entire situation. As if you were bringing your professional stubbornness to the bedroom.

“Wait,” he choked out as you palmed his growing bulge. “Can we … can we try something different?”

Your brows furrowed and you continued pressing sloppy kisses above his groin. “Why would we do that?”

Wonwoo let out a frustrated sound, and before you could prepare yourself, he was yanking his pants back up and pinning you underneath him. You blinked up at him in surprise, and he was gripping your wrists above your head now, his bodyweight pressing you into the mattress. He almost looked shocked that he had the strength to push you back, but his blown-out pupils gave away his true desire.

“What was that for?” You asked incredulously. Nerves clouded your thoughts, making you stutter. “I thought … I thought you liked …”

“No, trust me, I do,” he assured you, and then tipped his head as he gazed down at you. “I just … why won’t you let me take care of you?”

You scoffed then, trying to cover up how petrifying this conversation was becoming. Were you that transparent now, or did he simply know you far too well for your own good?

“I have no idea what you’re –”

Wonwoo gave you one of his infamous leveled looks, and you sighed. “You’re in constant need of seeking control when it’s always at your fingertips. It’s okay to let it go; it won’t slip away.” He let go of your wrists then, but kept his body hovering over yours, holding himself up by his elbows resting near your head. “Please, just … surrender it for once. Let me take the lead.”

You glanced down at your hands on your chest, twiddling your thumbs. Eventually, you murmured, “It’s hard. I’ve never done that before.”

“Can we try? I like …” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, then let his head fall as he chuckled to himself. “This is so awkward. I just – I like prioritizing your pleasure. It feels much better for me and I think it will for you too. And if you don’t like it –”

“I’m not good with change,” you blurted.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice taking on that husky tone that made warmth pool in your stomach. His eyes flickered to your lips now, noticing how swollen they still were. “I won’t make you do anything you don’t want to do. It was just a suggestion, and I probably ruined the mood.”

You shook your head immediately, allowing your fingers to tenderly sweep over his shirt. “No, I …” A voice in the back of your head told you this was a good thing, and you did want this, but the fear of change was overwhelming. You wanted to step out of your comfort zone, desperately, for once. You were allowed to do this; you were allowed to be happy. 

Your gaze met his again. “I want to try.”

His eyes softened with affection, but then he asked, “You’re not just agreeing for my sake, right?”

“Now when have I ever done that?” You laughed, making him smile along with you. 

But as soon as his mouth met yours, that awkward, giggling persona seemed to melt away. Jeon Wonwoo morphed into an entirely different person, someone that possessed your jaw in his large hand, pulling at your bottom lip before kissing you harder. It was enough to leave you gasping for air once he pulled away, spit connecting you two, and he continued to suck and nip his way down your throat. He made sure to leave marks in places that could be covered up for work, but he’d know exactly where they were. God, would he even be able to control himself at his desk, knowing where his bites were hiding under your clothes? 

Tugging your sweater over your head, he practically whined at the sight of your breasts, constricted in the bra that you told him was too old once, but you kept wearing it anyway because he said it was cute. He lifted you for a moment, expertly removing it with one hand, before licking the valley between your breasts. You arched into him, sighing into your arm when he swirled his tongue around your taut nipple. He glanced up and realized you were hiding your face, so he pushed your hand off. “I want you to look at me while I do this,” he cooed, but it sounded more like a demand.

Despite the embarrassment, you did as he asked, feeling completely bewitched as you watched him cup the swell of your breast, tugging on your nipple. This felt like a goddamn Pornhub video. You two have had sex before, yes, but not like this. Never like this. Wonwoo had always let you do what you were comfortable with, keeping his other side at bay while you rode him hard on the couch. But this … this felt like something else entirely. The way he was lavishing both your nipples, coating them with his spit, demanding you to watch … Expletives filtered softly from your mouth, wetness gathering between your thighs. It suddenly felt too hot and your jeans were still on.

Wonwoo was taking his time with you though, and it was very clear to you that this wouldn’t just be one of those nights where you had sex for 10 minutes before ordering pizza. When he lifted his mouth from your left nipple, he asked calmly, “Do you like this or do you want more?”

You sneered, “Well, of course, I like –”

His hand came up instantly to pinch your other nipple, and you couldn’t stop the whimper that came out of your mouth. “No teasing,” he said, lowering his head to flick that nipple with his tongue. “Just answer me.”

“More,” you choked out, your hips arching off the bed, seeking friction. “Please, more.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss between your breasts once again, before lowering himself down your body. His eyes never left yours as he dragged his lips down your stomach. Eventually, he had to stand from the bed so he could finally unzip your pants, tugging when they got stuck around your ankles. When the cold air hit between your legs, you realized how soaked you were already. Wonwoo smirked to himself, slowly rolling your panties down your legs.

“Don’t let it get to your head,” you joked, kicking your panties off into a pile by his bed. 

He lifted your ankle, nipping playfully, and replied, “Told you that you’d like me taking the lead.”

You rolled your eyes as he settled between your thighs, bending your knees back so your feet rested beside his head. You bit your lip as he placed sloppy kisses on your inner thigh, biting hard enough to make a bruise. Wonwoo fought hard to maintain a sense of composure, but god, the sight of your pretty pussy oozing slick made him wonder if he could cum untouched. You had let him finger you before, but had never been in the mood for this. And this was something Wonwoo had been fantasizing about since the day he noticed that tear in your stockings. He could jump for joy if that didn’t make him look like an absolute fucking loser.

He pushed your folds apart with two fingers, running a hand down his face as he attempted to school his expression. It was just so fucking hard to act cool when you were this aroused. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip. You reached out and brushed his hair back from his forehead, deciding to quip, “Wonwoo, can you even find the clit without your glasses on –”

Without warning, he spit on your pussy and buried his face between your thighs. The words died on your tongue immediately, and you let out the loudest whine he’d ever heard in his life. He smiled, but that didn’t deter him from circling his tongue around your clit. He wound one of his arms around your thigh, holding you in place as he pressed his face further.

Wrapping his lips around your clit, he sucked and drew out the prettiest sounds from you, using his free hand to slip two fingers inside you. You tasted exactly like he dreamed about, sweet and tangy and so unmistakably you. He looked up at you from between your legs, curling his fingers in the spot that made tears prick at your eyes, and when your gaze found his, it was like something in him snapped. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice muffled, feasting at you like he’d been starved for days. 

Your fingers were in his hair now, pressing his head more into you, which only made this more enjoyable for him. He nearly came in his pants when your hips began to buck against his face, but this was about you. And him experiencing you cumming on his face. But mostly you. His fingers pumped faster inside you and his tongue was now flicking your clit, allowing more of your arousal to invade his mouth. He’d never get tired of this taste; he was obsessed. Now that he finally got a taste of you … he never wanted to not be doing this. Never wanted his face too far from the apex of your legs. Not when you had the sweetest taste that could move heaven and earth between these thighs.

And when you finally came on his tongue, he noticed that your legs shook like an earthquake. Your essence flooded his mouth, and he moaned – god, did he moan – lapping at you, never missing a drop of what you gave him. His fingers kept curling inside of you, making your orgasm feel like forever. When he finally removed them with a wet pop, he didn’t miss the opportunity to have more of you, wrapping his mouth around those two fingers and licking off the last of your release. You watched him, completely mesmerized by the way he savored you, even darting his tongue out to capture the whatever seeped out of you. Your hips jolted, suddenly so sensitive, and he grinned up at you.

You hardly caught your breath before he crawling up your body, kissing you hard and letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands fisted in his t-shirt, and when you ripped your lips away from his, you arched a brow. “You are still fully clothed,” you reminded, and then swiped at the spit lining his bottom lip.

Wonwoo simply smiled, ghosting his lips over yours before trailing them to your ear. “I’m getting to that part. Patience,” he whispered, nibbling on your earlobe. “You must really want me inside you.”

“I want to not be the only one naked.”

“Say it,” he prodded in a weirdly casual tone.

“What?”

“Say you want me inside you.”

“This is ridiculous –”

He lifted his head from your jawline. “I can easily leave this room and order a pizza,” he teased, and you blinked at him. He was actually being serious. He would completely ignore what looked like a throbbing erection in his pants, just to make a point. You knew he wasn’t trying to be mean; he wanted to get you out of your comfort zone. This was so stupid, because you did want him inside you. Embarrassingly so. He had just given you one of the best orgasms of your life, but you still had this … aching need to be filled. Your cheeks heated just at the thought of it.

“I …” Your eyes closed for a moment, trying not to make your whole face turn bright red. With a sigh, your eyes connected again, and you answered, “I want you inside me, Wonwoo.”

He rewarded you with a kiss, pulling away before it could get too heated again, and stood from the bed. “Well, when you ask nicely …” He smiled, that dominating demeanor slipping for a moment as he pulled his shirt off. You’d never get tired of the way Wonwoo looked without a shirt. He didn’t let anyone see it very often – he wasn’t like his roommate – but the moments he did, you felt eternally grateful. His torso was toned, with defined abs and pecks that made your mind boggle. You liked that his arms were long and muscled; his hands large and slightly calloused. 

You liked everything about him.

When he finally went to kick off his sweatpants, he noticed a large precum stain on the gray fabric from just eating you out. Which was probably the biggest jab to his calm and collected attitude right now, but he didn’t let it slip. He simply threw the sweatpants to the side, coming up close to the bed again, where your legs were now hanging off the edge. You gazed up at him as if he held the world in his palms, watching the way he reached into his boxers and pulled out his cock. Your eyes widened at the sight, never used to the size. He was slightly thicker than average, but long. Longer than you ever expected. With a pretty pink head leaking sticky precum.

It was killing you how long he was taking. Your legs shifted, ready to make a move to yank him underneath you, but he was faster than you. He pinned your wrists about your head with one hand this time, using his other to keep a firm grip on his cock. “You want to be in control that badly, huh?” He asked, tilting his head.

His hand was moving up and down his shaft now, letting precum dribble on your stomach. Your eyes flickered from his cock back to his eyes. “I just … I need you, Wonwoo,” you begged, your voice taking on a new tone. And somehow … wanting him so bad like this was ten times more arousing than riding him on the couch. “Please, please, Wonwoo. Please, fuck me.”

Your pleas had him falling apart, and he sighed, letting go of your wrists to discard his boxers too. His cock flopped against his stomach, hard and aching and – fuck, had he always been veiny? He got on top of you again, cooing against your lips, “I know, baby, I know.” His rubbed the underside of his length against your wet folds, moaning at the slightest bit of friction. “I’ll fuck you real good. I promise.”

Pressing the head of his cock at your entrance, his breath hitched at just the feeling of your arousal coating his shaft. You both had never taken your time with sex. But he was doing that tonight now that he was in control, letting himself slowly push inside you, feel you completely stretch open for him. You mewled, slinking your arms around his neck and carding your fingers at the nape. And when he finally buried himself to the hilt, his lips fell open and he groaned. You felt so good he could cum right now, but he needed to get a grip. The last thing he needed was to cum too fast.

Not that you would like him any less if he did.

“Wonwoo,” you cried, your hips arching up to meet his. “Please.”

Your voice snapped him out of whatever trance-like state he was in. He settled more on top of you, resting his elbows on both sides of your head, and pulled all the way out so only the tip remained. You whined at the emptiness, which soon changed to a gasp when he bullied his cock back in. Your fingers tugged at his hair; your legs crossed around his waist, drawing him deeper inside. “Fuck,” he muttered, still feeling how tight you were, how you molded yourself for him. “So fucking … god, so wet.”

His restraint could only last so long. He’d gotten his fill of feeling you adjust around him. He couldn’t take this anymore, or he was going to cum before you both had even started. With a deep breath, he set a brutal pace inside of you, his hips snapping forward. Tears rolled down your cheeks; how could something feel so good that you cried? Wonwoo seemed to be thinking the same thing, because he was burying his face in the crook of your neck and groaning, “God, so good … you feel so good … how can anyone feel this good?”

The only word you could choke out was, “Ditto,” which you’d regret for hours after this. But now was not the time.

He was fucking into you so hard that you were already sore, but you were holding onto him for dear life, clinging to him as that warmth burned in your gut. The way his cock curved and grazed your g-spot perfectly, making you tremble and whimper his name like a prayer. He placed a hand on your stomach, feeling how deep his cock nestled inside you, and you noticed him shiver in your arms. He was trying desperately to fight off his release. That coil in your gut began to tighten, and from the way Wonwoo was breathing, you knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. He wanted you to cum first though – like always – wanted to feel you clamp around him, squeeze him so tight that he saw white. 

So he did what he did best: reached in between your bodies, finding your swollen, sensitive clit so easily, and rubbed slow circles. He lifted his head from your neck, wanting to see that familiar look in your eyes when you saw stars. “Are you gonna cum for me?” His voice was so deep that it reverberated against your chest.

And finally, as he pressed his thumb down hard and pushed into you just right, you felt your orgasm crest. “Fuck, Wonwoo,” you sobbed, body shaking as you came undone. 

But Wonwoo wasn’t stopping. He kept fucking into you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. And when your walls squeezed him so tight, he buried himself completely and came hard, a generous amount of fucks leaving his lips. His cheek pressed against yours; his groans muffled by the comforter. You held him close as he filled you to the brink with his release, and it almost felt like hours before he realized he finished. 

You exhaled together, allowing your heart rates to settle. He turned his head slightly, pressing a kiss to your cheek, and then to your nose, and now he was kissing all over your face. Your cheeks instantly tinged pink, but you let him do as he pleased. He didn’t even make a move off you, letting his cock soften inside your warmth. When your eyes opened, he was staring down at you like you were the sun. You searched his eyes, “What?”

His dark gaze flickered to your lips for a moment, and then he asked, “Did you really say, ‘Ditto,’ during sex?”

You and Wonwoo had gotten into a routine. Of course, you saw him 5 days out of the week at work, but you wanted more of him. You figured out Mingyu’s schedule, coming over most nights when he wasn’t home – besides Mingyu’s Movie Nights. You would let Wonwoo cook for you, and he promised he was getting better, before he led you to his room with kisses to your neck and a firm grip on your hand. 

He always went with whatever you were comfortable with, but you found yourself letting him take the lead more often than not. You liked letting him prioritize you; you liked being selfish with him. Giving up control felt … much better than anticipated. Everything about this felt too good to be true. But you couldn’t help yourself, and you didn’t want to spoil it by asking him the dreaded, “What are we?” For now, you’d exist in your safe little bubble, where he would smile at you at work and then fuck your brains out after hours. It felt perfect, simple.

You approached sex through a different lens now. Instead of simply riding him on that godforsaken old couch, you let him go at his own pace: placing you on his lap, having his way with you and making you cum at least 3 times before he sunk you down on his cock, bouncing you up and down as you clung to him, practically letting him use you as a flesh light. Even when he let you sit on his face, it was on his terms: his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark, trying to suffocate himself with your pussy, not allowing you to cum until he said so, no matter how much you needed to. But it felt too good to stop. You didn’t want this to stop. You liked the lack of control, liked the way he took care of you. The way he bent your knees back as he slid into you, keeping eye contact, so you’d feel him that much deeper … the way he could feast on you for hours, never getting enough of your taste … there was something about it that made you feel more than beautiful. 

Especially when he looked at you as if you were his world.

Especially when he fucked into you and you realized you might be in love with him.

You tended to get lost in thought while laying in bed on an early morning. The birds chirped outside, your phone chimed along with each new notification. Curling underneath your comforter, you held your pounding head, reminiscing on last Sunday. You had gone over Wonwoo’s apartment and he had surprised you with a spaghetti dinner. Mingyu promised that it was “more edible than usual” before he left you two alone in the apartment.

You had noticed the shine in Wonwoo’s eyes, how excited he was to do this for you. He had never bothered to learn anything for anyone, but all he wanted to do was please you. To make you happy. And you could see that in the way he gazed at you, making your stomach do flip flops. Letting him have all this control over you, letting him see past the fortress you’d kept up for who knows how long … it was scary and exhilarating all at the same time.

He taught you how to play his favorite video game after dinner, placing you in between his legs on the couch and letting you lean back against his broad chest. His arms cocooned around you, nestling your body in his embrace. Sometimes he would nibble on your ear as you fought to maintain hand-eye coordination with the controller. Eventually, you had given up and asked to watch him, but that led to his hand dropping the controller as the enemy killed him off. And then his fingers were slowly slipping down the waistband of your leggings, rubbing your slit over your panties. You had arched into him, your ass pressing against his hardening erection as he pulled your panties to the side, already finding you wet and ready for his touch. He chuckled in your ear, “How long have you been thinking about this?” His index finger rubbed tight circles on your clit, and all that you could formulate for a response was a moan as he –

You cut yourself off from the memory before it could end you.

Your stomach churned. Despite your better judgement, you had completely fallen head-over-heels for senior IT specialist, Jeon Wonwoo, and that was terrifying. He had seen your personality unfold, seen the most vulnerable parts of you. But nothing was more scary than admitting to yourself how much you liked him, maybe even loved. You were frantic to the point of exhaustion, so stressed that you felt sick. Soon you were shivering, your head pounding as a fever came on, and you stayed home from work for a few days. Your phone notifications be damned – you stayed in your bedroom with the blinds closed, sleeping the days away.

Every so often, you would hear your phone chime. Your phone screen would light up with another text message. But … you couldn’t bring yourself to answer him. This behavior was illogical and stupid; you just simply couldn’t help yourself. You were an avoidant. The only thing you knew how to do was slowly push him away before he saw all the layers underneath your carefully crafted facade.

What if he finally saw how anxious you were all the time?

What if he knew how you secretly craved to be loved your entire life, but you looked for it elsewhere, in places like workplace praise or crowded bars where you couldn’t see another person’s face?

What if he knew you weren’t as organized up in your head as you were at your desk?

Or worse … what if he didn’t like you back?

TUESDAY, APRIL 22

Wonwoo: What’s going on?

Wonwoo: I managed to find out that you’re sick. I can make you soup, if you want? I know my cooking is terrible. But what if this time it’s good and it cures you?

Wonwoo: If I threaten to message you on Slack, will that make you reply?

Wonwoo: I promise I won’t. Unless … lol

Wonwoo: You’re not dead, right?

Wonwoo: Please, answer me.

FRIDAY, APRIL 25

UNKNOWN: hey, it’s Mingyu. I found your number in Wonwoo’s phone. he’s really messed up right now and worrying about you.

UNKNOWN: idk what’s going on between you two, but I don’t like seeing him like this.

UNKNOWN: just … call him. or text him. or something.

Jeon Wonwoo [10:13 AM]: Did your computer die and you need a new charger?

Jeon Wonwoo [3:21 PM]: I miss you.

When you finally returned to work, it’s on a day that your cubicle mate had decided to work from home. You couldn’t decide if that was a blessing or curse until the next day, when you wished that he decided to work from home forever. It was on a Tuesday morning that you finally faced him again, locking eyes with him from across the boardroom table in an all-hands meeting. You weren’t sure what to say, weren’t sure what you could say, but … he didn’t speak to you any way. In fact, even when you both got back to your desks, he kept quiet, throwing on his headphones and focusing on whatever task was at hand. His attitude change wasn’t exactly surprising, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him either.

All your other coworkers looked bewildered. The silence between you two made just about everyone feel awkward. They all saw how close you and Wonwoo had become, and now everything just felt … flat. Silent. Empty. It was like you two were strangers. Maybe you had never really known each other in the first place, if you could both discard each other so easily. 

But that just seemed too good to be true. You thought about him everyday, despite yourself, and he had to think of you too. You caught his eyes on you every once in a while, and you couldn’t help but yearn for him in silence. It was probably time for you to take charge again and make the first move, but you found yourself hesitating. Again. You were overwhelmed with thoughts of rejection. 

This was why you never gave up control with someone before. It left you suddenly so, so doubtful.

You [1:34 PM]: I can’t get into my Outlook. I think I’ve locked myself out 

Jeon Wonwoo is now offline.

You [1:36 PM]: I miss you too

It was a busy Sunday, the first notes of Spring evident in the air. You needed to go to the post office today, the supermarket, probably check in on your parents … but that was all discarded when you made the sudden decision to take a taxi to Wonwoo’s apartment. Your hands were shaking more than his when he first touched you. Your leg was bouncing with anxiety, and when the taxi finally pulled up to his building, you considered never getting out. 

But you couldn’t continue being a coward. Besides, this driver had places to be, with the way he was arguing for you to pay in cash.

You were lucky enough to slide in through the building’s entrance while someone was walking out. The less you had to embarrass yourself by calling Mingyu to let you in, the better. The walk up those two flights of stairs was long and tiring, and it wasn’t because you always hated them. You physically couldn’t make yourself go faster, too frightened of what he was going to say when he saw you. Maybe he wouldn’t say anything; maybe he’d slam the door in your face. And you couldn’t blame him, because now you were at his door and – oh, god, you wanted to hurl.

The door was opening before you could even catch your breath. When you caught that first glimpse of Mingyu, you realized how much of a mistake this was. You could always turn back, run down the stairs before anyone could say a word.

But as soon as you both locked eyes, Mingyu raised his brow, but not in a mocking sense. It was as if … he expected you to be here. He sighed, leaning against the door, and without looking back, he called out, “Wonwoo! You got a visitor.”

Your eyes went wide, and then Mingyu was pushing past you, leaving the door open and muttering, “Good luck.” He was rushing down the stairs two at a time before you could even say a word back. But then you were seeing him, and you wondered if it had always been this hard to breathe around him.

Your fingers played absentmindedly as you both stared at each other. His glasses were slipping down his nose, but he made no move to fix them. His own hand was too busy dropping the controller that had been in his grip, now clattering to the floor. His hair was messed up and he was wearing his favorite comfy sweatsuit, and you … you were put together, as always. Your hair unwashed, but pulled up in a ponytail, and wearing that cardigan he liked so much on you. If he wasn’t so hurt, just the sight of you would have him on his knees right now, begging to have you.

He had to turn around and walk away. If he didn’t right now, he’d just –

“Wait,” you said, walking in and closing the door when he spun away. “Please, don’t. I –”

“What could you possibly say?” He snapped, facing you once again. You had never heard his voice at this octave before, never seen so much distress on his face. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you wouldn’t cut me off out of nowhere. As if I’m just some guy you met at a bar last weekend.”

Your mouth opened, and then closed. 

“Do you … do you even understand how worried I was about you?” He ran a hand through his hair, voice cracking for the first time in forever. You took a step closer to him. “You weren’t answering me and I just … my head went to the worst. I thought Mingyu was gonna kill me the next time I mentioned your name. And then, to see you at work and realizing that you were actually just ghosting me was a fucking punch to the gut. I didn’t get it. I still don’t get it. But I’m so pissed at you for hurting my feelings that I’m not even sure if I wanna know.”

“Wonwoo –” You started.

“Please, don’t say my name like that,” he sighed and pinched his nose. “I realize that you came all this way to finally break the news to me, but I’m good. It’s very obvious to me now that you don’t like me as much as I like you, and to save us the pity party, let me get you home –” He reached for his wallet to grab some cash for your next taxi.

But you interrupted before he could finish.

“I love you.”

He paused, looking up and making sure he heard you right. “What?”

“I’m in love with you,” you said it again, and it felt so freeing to have this weight lifted off your shoulders. You moved closer, now standing a foot away, but refusing to touch him for your own good. “And I’m not just telling you that as an excuse. Ignoring you was cruel and I can never forgive myself for hurting you. I just … when I realized how deep my feelings for you were …” Your throat closed up, as if your body was acting on instinct, preventing you from being vulnerable with him.

Wonwoo closed the distance. “Hey,” he whispered, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I’m right here with you.”

His voice was so reassuring – as always – opening you up like a blooming flower. And suddenly, your mouth didn’t feel so dry anymore and your nails stopped making crescent-shaped indents in your palm.

“I got scared,” you confessed, your gaze locked on his. “And I ran away, because that was the easiest thing to do. I thought ignoring you would be best for both of us, and I stubbornly didn’t want to hear your opinion on any of this. What I did was wrong and I … I hate myself when I do stuff like this to people I care about.”

Tears pricked at the corner of your eyes, but he wiped them with his thumb before they could fall. You sniffled, noticing the hurt in his eyes had faded, replaced only by adoration. Your lips pursed as you searched his gaze.

“I’ve just … never allowed anyone to open me up like this. I’ve never given my feelings to someone and let them care for me.” You blinked, your eyes rimmed red. “I’ve hardly been able to comprehend my own feelings because I’ve been scared shitless of them in the first place. But I can’t … I can’t justify pushing you away anymore. Because I love you. I don’t like being alone anymore and all I ever want to do is see you. Sometimes I’m afraid if I stop holding you, you’ll disappear. You do so much for me; you literally fix something on my computer everyday. I think if I let you go right now, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, and I –”

Wonwoo cut you off by pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t remember the last time he kissed you like this: so gently with his palm cupping your jaw. You felt yourself relax when he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His tongue licked into your mouth, sighing with relief when the familiar taste of you entered his orbit again. The taste of coffee and peppermint gum and the peanut butter and jelly you definitely had for lunch today. It was everything he loved about you, and he smiled into the kiss.

When he finally pulled away, he said, “Sorry, I interrupted your monologue.”

“It’s okay. Someone needed to before I got into the Hamlet soliloquy I prepared.”

He chuckled, grinning from ear to ear, and just that had a blush creeping to your cheeks. “I forgive you,” he whispered, leaning back in to ghost his lips all over your face. Your warm breath fanned his mouth. “Just don’t do that again. I know I don’t show it very often, but I’m secretly very …” He smiled softer this time, pecking just slightly on the corner of your mouth. “Sensitive.”

Your fingers hooked into the waistband of his sweatpants, wanting him all the more closer. “I know. I promise.” You brushed your nose over his. “If I ever ignore you for even a couple hours, you have full permission to annoy me on Slack.”

Wonwoo had to cover his mouth from letting out the loudest laugh possible, but it made you feel all the better to see him happy. You could spend forever seeing him this happy. You got up on your tiptoes just to stare at him more, to press yourself closer and feel his grin against your cheek.

But he was holding your face now, sighing down at you with a smile that almost made you swoon. “For the record,” he replied, “I love you too.” 

[goldenhourology]

SAVE THE DATE.

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader

genre: smut, fluff, angst, frenemies to lovers

summary: 5 weddings in one year. 5 dates you saved for you and your boyfriend to attend — before he cheated. and now, you had to force your best friend, vernon, to go with you. but after losing a bet, mingyu agrees to take vernon’s place and be your date. this wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go, but you guess you could settle going with your only one-night-stand from college.

warnings: oral (f!recieving), fingering, 69ing, unprotected sex, reader on top, praise, mingyu has boyfriend dick<3, sub-ish!mingyu, also power bottom!mingyu 👍, multiple sex scenes, marijuana smoking/shotgunning, marijuana-induced horniness lol, one bed trope, forced proximity, miscommunication, HEAVY mutual pining. nsfw (minors / ageless blogs dni).

word count: 19.9k

note: first things first, APOLOGIESSSSS for this taking so long. I've had a lot going on (which I know just about everyone says) and I was lowkey struggling to write this, even tho I was so amped for it. nevertheless, I'm so glad I was able to focus and finish it, because I care so much for these two and I desperately wanted to share their story with you 💓 per usual, please expect angst with your smut, and if you cry, I will not judge you and honestly would love to hear it lol. enjoy friends! (taglist posted at the bottom.)

in rotation: bmf, sza / mona lisa, mxmtoon / gorgeous, taylor swift / moonstruck, enhypen / finally // beautiful stranger, halsey

Your mom had told you that the friends you make in your first year of college stay with you for life, but you didn’t expect that when you met Vernon. He had been shy, refusing to speak to anyone in your orientation group, but knowing glances turned into sitting next to each other, which then had you both whispering jokes back and forth, until finally, he told you his name. Hansol Chwe to be exact, but he insisted on “just Vernon.” By the second semester of freshman year, you both had become inseparable. He was your best friend, been with you through some of the toughest moments of your adult life, and you wouldn’t trade him for the world.

Vernon’s friendship survived through many of your boyfriends, and you knew he’d outlast many more. He experienced some of the worst ones – a.k.a. the men who refused to believe you two were just friends – and also the boring ones – the one guy who used you to get to him. But none of them had pissed him off more than your most current breakup: the man who was three years your senior and cheated on you with a 22-year-old. You assumed by age 27, you’d know how to pick ‘em, but that was clearly wrong.

Now you were left to your own devices with five weddings to attend this year. In retrospect, maybe there was a few you could’ve skipped, but you hated saying no in situations like this. You had agreed to go to all of them with your now ex-boyfriend in mind, placing a 2 on the invite’s attending line. Per usual, Vernon had stepped up and begrudgingly offered himself to be your date.

So why were you now meeting up with Kim Mingyu to discuss the dates of said five weddings?

You first met Mingyu when Vernon joined a fraternity in sophomore year to make more friends. “I can’t just have you. I need to have at least some friends that are dudes,” he said, which made you reply, “That’s the toxic masculinity talking.” And boy, had Mingyu been the epitome of that statement. Him and Vernon had connected instantly, sharing the same major and an affinity for art girls. You had never really gotten along with him like Vernon had hoped, but he was … attractive, to say the least.

Okay, maybe you had a crush on him. You had eyes.

But it was college and you both were on the cusp of 20. It was so hard to confess feelings back then, especially to someone like Kim Mingyu. Who you didn’t particularly enjoy talking to in the first place. However … he was probably one of the hottest men you’d ever seen; made in a lab for every young girl’s fantasy. Sometimes you couldn’t help but just stare at him, admiring his perfect teeth or the way his honey-gold skin shined in the afternoon sunlight. (You thanked your lucky stars that Vernon joined the college football team alongside Mingyu, just so you could  secretly ogle him during practice.)

Suffice to say, you did eventually hook up. In the most cliche way possible, you had both gotten a little too tipsy at the first frat party of senior year and wound up in Mingyu’s dorm, locking out his roommate for the entire night. It almost felt weird, realizing your attraction had been reciprocated, but he hardly said a word to you come morning. In fact, he never mentioned it again, period, choosing to avoid you except in group settings with Vernon. You weren’t a fool; you were quick to realize it meant nothing to him, just another notch on his bedpost.

Mingyu was every girl’s dream, but Mingyu was also uncommitted.

And he was walking towards you right now.

You looked up from your phone after stalking – looking through Mingyu’s Instagram. You never followed him, never checked in on him after graduation, but you knew how close he still was with Vernon. He even posted a picture with him recently. You rolled your eyes. Despite his long hair, you recognized Mingyu instantly as he went up to the barista and ordered a coffee. You studied him for a moment, noticing that there was a curl to his hair and the way those dark stands hung around his eyes. His skin was as perfect as ever and – goddamn, did he get bigger? He was wearing a jacket over his t-shirt and you could still tell how big his muscles were.

When he finally looked over his shoulder and your eyes connected, his face remained unchanged, if not a little awkward. He walked up to you, rubbing at the back of his neck, and said your name as if it were a question. “Yeah. Hi, Mingyu,” you replied with a wave. “It’s been a while.”

“Five years since graduation,” he added, pulling out the chair across from you and plopping down. “So you stopped putting those blonde highlights in your hair?”

Your eye twitched. Before you could spit out a response, a cute, dark-haired barista came over and set a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, completely ignoring that your own was practically empty. Mingyu flashed her a smile, showing off his pretty canines as she walked away. You frowned.

Vernon had told you last night that Mingyu wasn’t the same guy you knew in college, but you begged to differ.

Turning back to you, he took a sip from his mug and asked, “Why did you want to meet up again?”

“Because my best friend is an asshole and you lost a bet.”

“Oh, yeah. That.” He nodded.

You almost didn’t believe Vernon when he told you. You knew he didn’t exactly want to be your date to all these weddings and probably felt like he had to, but he did offer so you didn’t think much of it. Until he told you last week that he put all his guest invites on the line while playing a drinking game with Mingyu, which the latter lost. So now Kim Mingyu, your college one-night-stand that was scared of commitment, was committing to being your date to several weddings this year.

Kill me now, you thought.

“I thought drinking games and making silly bets like this didn’t happen once your frontal lobe formed,” you said, and his dark eyes flickered up to yours.

“That’s where you’re wrong,” he cleared his throat and set the mug down again. “Men never really grow up.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and sat back in your chair. “Apparently,” you muttered under your breath. “How do you have the time to actually commit to this? Don’t you have a girlfriend or something?”

“One,” he held up a single finger, “I take bets very seriously and I’m not a sore loser. It’s only removing five weekends out of the year for me. No biggie. And two,” he lifted another finger, “No.”

You raised a brow. “Well, I guess that answers all my questions.”

Mingyu stared at you for a moment, running those two fingers over his bottom lip. You suddenly had a flashback to that night, remembering his hands all over you, remembering his fingers plunging inside and curling –

Not the time.

“Don’t you have a boyfriend? Why put down two people on these RSVPs you sent back and then force just anybody to be your date?” He fought the urge to smile, trying to dig a little deeper into you. You weren’t falling for it this time. “I love the guy, but I know Vernon wasn’t your first choice to accompany you.”

“My ex and I broke up,” you replied. “Not much to it.”

Intrigued, he sipped his coffee again. “Why?”

“It’s none of your business, Mingyu.”

“Well, as your new date –”

“Drop it,” you said, voice taking on a new tone. “I’m serious.”

Mingyu raised his hand in surrender, and you shook off your anger. This was supposed to be a friendly, quick conversation, but it was seemingly moving off the rails. A sigh escaped your mouth before you asked, “So you said this is only taking five weekends out of the year. What do you do with your time? Are you working?”

“I thought I answered all your questions.”

You narrowed your eyes.

He chuckled softly, exposing those canines once again. His smile was so … ugh, you needed to stop getting distracted. “I work at a restaurant four days a week as a cook, and then teach flag football at a rec facility the rest of the time. I’ve been trying to save up to open my own restaurant for years, but I got the time to be a makeshift wedding date.”

You knew Mingyu had always loved to cook – you remembered when he’d been the resident chef at the fraternity – but to hear he was still passionate almost … melted you a little. Almost. You were dedicated to not being too swayed by Mingyu’s pretty words. This was a deal and that was the end of it.

“I see,” you nodded, uncrossing your arms to play with the handle of your still empty mug. “I’ve been working at the same marketing agency since college. Pays the bills, you know?”

Mingyu gave you a knowing look before running a hand through the long strands. “Always so committed.”

Your lips pursed. “One of us has to be.”

“Speaking of commitment,” he said without missing a beat, pulling his phone from the pocket of his jeans. “What are the dates for those weddings again?”

Save the Date for the wedding of Choi Seungcheol and Holland Levine: February 28th

It was a rainy Sunday in February. Your coworker, Choi Seungcheol, was getting married today at a local venue on the outskirts. His girlfriend, Holland – otherwise known as, Hinge Holland, when he met her on the dating app 3 years ago – was a little kooky and asked for them to be eloped that morning. Seungcheol was too in love to say no; he’d do anything she asked. They were married early morning, and lucky for you and Mingyu, all you had to attend was a reception. It was a nice way to test the waters of this deal before anything got too crazy. 

Mingyu had picked you up in his truck, and together struggled to help lift you inside with your dress and heels on. As he drove away from the city and into a more rural area, he commented, “Your coworker must be real whipped to agree to a reception here.”

“What are you talking about?” You looked through your phone for the address Seungcheol had sent you months ago. “I thought the reception was at some small venue.”

Mingyu said your name, and you glanced over, seeing the smile on his face. “It’s a VFW owned by someone in his girlfriend’s family.”

You realized just how right he was when he pulled up to a spot in a VFW parking lot, seeing a crowd of Holland’s family pour into the post. You knew what the inside of a VFW looked like; you had your sweet 16 at one. But going to a wedding reception at one was a whole different story. Were the walls so old that they’d crumble once the DJ dared to play Dancing Queen?

Rain pounded from the sky, making the cold February wind even more chilly. Mingyu rounded the truck and opened your door, making sure to hold an umbrella above your head as you slid out of the seat. He looked … okay, he looked extremely handsome in his suit, tailored exactly to his body. You were in an old, off-the-shoulder black dress with mesh sleeves that were doing nothing in this wet cold. This wedding had crept up on you, and before you knew it, you remembered you didn’t have any new dresses to wear. And while it looked nice, the dress just barely zipped and you had to keep pulling up the neckline. Clearly, you had grown a bit since the last time you worn this. Probably in college.

Mingyu was staring at you now, letting his eyes wander down, and you were yanking at the neckline again. He didn’t deserve to see more of your cleavage. He whispered, “You look …”

“Just come on,” you cut him off, tugging him in the direction of the VFW. He struggled to keep up for a moment, rushing to hold the umbrella above both of you. 

As soon as you both walked inside, you realized just how dressed up you were compared to the place. The building looked like it hadn’t been updated since the 1990s. There was, at least, a huge buffet-style food setup in the corner and a man so old that he probably had one foot in the grave behind the bar. A sign in front of him said, OPEN BAR, written in thick sharpie. Various family members were congregating at tables, while the DJ – who looked like a Pitbull impersonator – was setting up at the head of the room. 

Seungcheol ran over the second he saw you meandering through tables. He had the biggest smile on his face, tugging his new wife over to introduce her to you before wiggling his eyebrows at you when he noticed Mingyu on your arm. Even Holland couldn’t help but ogle him. Seungcheol was one of your closest coworkers, so it wasn’t weird when he asked, “Who’s the beefcake?”

Mingyu was too busy dealing with Holland’s questions to hear you reply, “Don’t ask. I’ve cycled through many options before I was forced to bring him.”

“I’m sure it was quite difficult for you,” he snorted, before carefully pulling his wife’s hand off of Mingyu’s and introducing himself. Not long after, he was ushering her away to start making speeches. 

You and Mingyu found your seat quickly, and luckily enough, you were sat with most of your coworkers. Every single one was looking at Mingyu like he was a piece of meat, but he didn’t seem to notice as he had a friendly conversation with each of them. You struggled to not roll your eyes. How was he perfect with everyone? Maybe your dislike of him was irrational and unwarranted, maybe he did change. But … ugh, could he fuck up for once?

Your coworker, Minghao, sat to your left, watching Mingyu converse with the young assistant – Amelia, right? – who was very clearly batting her eyes at him. Leaning towards you, Minghao whispered, “I thought you were bringing Vernon?”

Minghao was one of the few people you told about your breakup, as well as Vernon and of course, your girlfriends. It wasn’t like you to go around everywhere and post on social media about your breakup; it wasn’t anyone’s business. But Minghao gave great advice, and he was one of the first people that helped you get over the heartbreak. He wasn’t just a coworker. He became a trusted friend.

Turning your head, you said, “Would you believe me if I told you that he lost a bet?”

“Considering who you ended up with,” he chuckled, “I’d say it’s a win in your favor.”

“He’s not that great.”

“Then you might want to pull Amelia off of him before she starts sucking his face.”

The reception ended at an early hour thankfully. Most of the elderly guests were falling asleep anyway. Mingyu was a class act, per usual, trying to get you up and out of your seat to dance with him, but the last thing you wanted to do was dance to Toxic by Britney Spears in front of your boss at the marketing agency. Instead, he took the lead to asking Seungcheol’s mom to dance, and made Amelia’s day when he asked her to join. Minghao only continued to laugh when you rejected each of Mingyu’s advances.

Once 10 PM rolled around and you both were exiting the doors of the aging VFW, you noticed the rain hadn’t let up. In fact, it seemed to have gotten even worst. You had to run to Mingyu’s truck with him holding the umbrella above both of you and almost trip over your dress as you hopped up inside the cab. Assuming it would be fine to drive, just a few minutes in the rain left you both realizing that it might be extremely unsafe to drive back to the city in this weather. You really couldn’t argue with Mingyu when he suggested you stay the night at a motel right down the road. 

The woman behind the front desk at the motel was chewing so loud that you thought the wad of bubblegum between her teeth might be larger than your palm. She informed you both that the only rooms available were ones with a single queen-sized bed. As much as you desperately wanted two, you’d take what you could get. She started grabbing both of your informations to check in when a loud bolt of lightning cracked, followed by a crash of thunder. You instantly gripped Mingyu’s arm, and he paused signing his name to look down at you.

“Are you scared of thunder?” He asked playfully.

Realizing how tight you were holding on, you quickly removed your hand. “No, I’m … it’s fine.”

His bicep felt so much harder than anticipated. All muscle. 

Stop that.

The front desk attendant gave you an actual metal key to open your room, the number dangling from a kitschy pendant. This was the kind of motel where you needed to venture outside to get to your room, and with your arms locked together, Mingyu led you both through the pouring rain to the right building. He shoved the key in the lock, immediately opening the door and allowing you to walk inside first.

The room was smaller than expected. The heat was hardly circulating and you were still shivering. A queen-sized bed was situated in front of an old RCA TV, decorated with a comforter that looked strangely similar to the one from the 80s that your mom had given you when you first moved out. The room smelled like bleach and all you could hear was the rain on the roof. Noticing you shiver, Mingyu walked over to the thermostat and adjusted the heat.

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said, hugging your arms around yourself.

Mingyu pointed to the large window by the door. “I can’t drive in that. It takes an hour to get back to the city and I can hardly see the road.”

“Okay, well –”

Lightning struck again, painting the window white, and you jumped. Mingyu shook his head and walked over, closing the shades over the glass. He looked down at you, and you were acutely aware that he was the kind of person who could say everything just with his eyes. “Better?” He asked, a smile playing at his pink lips.

He was so close that you could smell his cologne and – god dammit, you were such a sucker for men that smelled good. He smelled like violets mixed with smokey sandalwood, spicy and musky. Whatever you were going to quip back died on your tongue, leaving you to reply, “I can’t sleep in my dress. I have nothing to wear to bed.”

Walking over to the tiny closet, Mingyu spotted a robe hanging up next to the vintage ironing board. He placed it in your arms and remarked, “Take a shower and put this on.”

“Are you saying I smell?”

He laughed. “No, you’re shivering and it’ll help warm you up.”

You nodded, heading off to the bathroom and shutting the door. As you slipped off your dress and let it pool onto the tile, you realized how antagonizing you were being for no reason. Mingyu had been nothing but nice to you, but you were suspecting him to switch-up at any moment. Maybe Vernon was right, or maybe you just needed to take a chill pill.

Mingyu was helping you out, after all.

After taking the warmest shower of your life and probably using all of the hot water in the motel, you walked out into the room with your robe tied firmly around your waist. The cotton smelled like mothballs and you hardly left an inch of skin showing. Granted you weren’t naked underneath, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing your underwear. Again. After five years. 

He was wearing only a tank top and boxers while setting up a makeshift bed on the floor. You struggled to maintain focus with him looking … well, like that, and eventually spoke up, “What are you doing?”

He hardly jumped at hearing your voice. “I figured it would just be easier if I slept on the floor. Trust me, I’ve slept in far worse places.”

“Mingyu, you don’t have to do that,” you sighed, pulling back the covers and tossing the mismatching throw pillows on the floor. 

“It’s not a big deal.”

“I know, but it’s just –”

Thunder clashed outside, sounding like pots and pans clanging together, rattling your bones.

Your eyes connected with Mingyu’s, and you pointed to the empty side of the bed. “Sleep in this bed right now.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You both agreed – more like, you told Mingyu and he listened – to place a wall of pillows between you two, leaving you on the edges of the bed. You curled up into yourself, your spine facing him, as Mingyu laid on his back and pinched the bridge of his nose. The rain was so loud. The thunder was deafening. You considered plugging your fingers in your ears as you slept.

Mingyu was shifting on the small sliver of mattress he had, wishing internally that he brought a joint or two with him. This bed was so uncomfortable that he probably wouldn’t sleep. But hopefully, you would. Although that was seeming highly unlikely from the way your back tensed with every boom of thunder.

He watched you from the corner of his eye, and eventually, you did stop shaking. Soft snores filled the room, replacing the sound of the rain. And then Mingyu felt himself relax, swiftly falling asleep with his arm thrown above his head.

Despite the pillow wall you built, you woke up with your head on his chest.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked that day, but he couldn’t find the courage to finish his sentence.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Chan and Adrianna Olson: April 4th

Tapping your freshly manicured nails on your bare arm, you leaned against the passenger side door of your car and huffed. You uncrossed your arms, beginning to pace outside Mingyu’s apartment building. The ceremony today started in two hours and you were about ninety minutes from the venue. Not to mention, there was only a matter of time before one of his neighbors showed up, forcibly removing you from the parking spot in front of the building you definitely did not live in. What the hell was Mingyu doing anyway? He said he’d be down ten minutes ago. 

You tugged off your heels, realizing they’d be a bitch to drive in, and pulled your sneakers from the back seat. Your floral, strapless sundress blew in the Spring breeze. Your curls – that looked like they could’ve been done by a toddler – whisked off your bare shoulders as you stepped into your favorite Nikes. 

“Sorry.”

Popping your head up, you halted while shoving the back door closed. You blinked, assuming your eyes were deceiving you, but there he was, sprinting down the front steps of his building with freshly chopped hair.

Mingyu was quickly walking over to shove his duffle in your backseat, pulling at his tie, when you leaned in and placed your hand on his head. Yep, that was his real hair. Those long locks that had reached his chin were gone, replaced by a hairstyle that was similar to how he looked in college. 

“I know we’re running late,” he apologized, letting your fingers sink into the strands for a moment, “but do you have to –”

“This is not about that.” You removed your hand, leveling a look at him. “You cut your hair.”

Mingyu raised a brow. “It was getting long.”

You paused, blinking at him. “Why didn’t you warn me of your new look?”

“I didn’t think I had to?” He shrugged, genuinely confused as to why you were questioning him. “My hair had gotten even longer since February, so I just thought I’d freshen up for you –”

You completely missed his words – for you, he’d freshened up for you – because you were already interrupting him. “Well, it’s just – it might look weird in pictures because my hair is up and your hair is so short. And I’m already going to have so many people looking at us wondering why my ex, who’s name I put on the invite, isn’t here. And I just want to eliminate as much attention as possible. And, well – and –”

Mingyu placed both hands on your shoulders. His palms were large, practically burning into your exposed skin. “Are you overthinking?”

“No, I …”

When your voice trailed off, Mingyu hesitated for a moment longer and then slid his hands off. “Vernon told me that you dated the groom. Chan, right?”

Of-fucking-course, Vernon told him. Your lips pursed before you replied, “We were friends before that, and we only dated for like a couple months in college. I introduced him to the woman he’s marrying.”

“Then why are you so nervous?”

“I think I have a lot of reasons to be nervous these days.” You continued to stare at him, waiting for him to come up with another quippy remark, but it seemed he contested and shoved his hands into the pockets of his suit. The same tailored suit he wore to the wedding in February, a few loose threads at the seams. “Let’s get going. We’ll be in the car for a while,” you said, rounding your car and hopping inside the driver’s seat.

As Mingyu dealt with finding room for his duffle in your trunk, you took this small second to text Vernon.

You: your friend is infuriating

You: also I’m never going to forgive you for telling him that I dated chan

Vernon: you’ll get over it lol

Vernon: is that the only reason why he’s infuriating?

You: HAIRCUT

Vernon: oh I probably should’ve told you about that when I saw him last week

Vernon: sorry :/

You closed your texts when Mingyu hopped in the passenger seat, turning on your music to drown out your thoughts. The drive was long and you were lucky that you got to the venue with ten minutes to spare. You parked the car in a haste, running to your back seat and quickly tugging your heels back on. You chucked your sneakers onto the car floor, almost hitting Mingyu in the face when he went to grab his phone from the same area. Locking your car, you grabbed his arm and yanked, both of you running towards the venue attached to a pretty hotel. Mingyu, even with his long legs, was struggling to keep up. He was also slightly impressed that you could run so fast in heels, and that was definitely the only reason why he was staring at your legs. He wasn’t admiring how long they looked when the wind lifted your skirt and he got a flash of your calf.

Even from your seat in the back of the ceremony, you could see Chan’s face light up as Adrianna was escorted down the aisle. She was wearing a vintage wedding dress, the veil sheer enough to see how beautiful she was underneath, and Chan was eager enough to lift it as soon as they said, “I do.” Adrianna looked like she hadn’t aged a day since school, and you could probably say the same for Chan. But he did manage to finally remove the earrings he got six years ago, which made you giggle to yourself.

Mingyu pretended not to notice.

Most of the people at the wedding were old friends from undergrad, even a few Mingyu knew in passing. Every time you were approached, you prepared yourself for the same question: “Where is He Who Will Not Be Named?” Or, for those that actually knew Mingyu: “Since when did you know Gyu?” You weren’t sure how much longer you could fake a smile and laugh, pretend that your heart still wasn’t sore from the breakup, rehash the same words over and over again. It was tiring; you were tired. 

Same explanation. Same heartbreak. You wouldn’t be surprised if the whole planet knew of your breakup by now. You didn’t announce it anywhere, besides telling your family and close friends. It was natural for people to be curious; you had been with your ex for a couple years, enough for your family to assume that he’d propose. But then he cheated, and you found out, and you were left in pieces, tied to Kim Mingyu as your date for a full year of weddings.

You just didn’t want to keep on doing this, explaining yourself ten times over, realizing that everyone was looking at you with interest. Maybe a second glass of champagne would be a good distraction …

“Wanna dance?”

You looked up from the rim of your empty glass. Mingyu had knocked you out of your daze, laying out a hand for you to take. The reception was lively with family and friends mingling on the dance floor, but Mingyu had still noticed you alone at the table, lost in your thoughts. Had he always been this attentive, or was he just prone to watching you?

Ignoring your internal monologue, you took his hand, allowing him to lead you to the dance floor. Just as Mingyu was about to place his hand on your waist, the song changed, switching to a more upbeat track you used to blast in college. You immediately started laughing at all the older folks trying to follow the beat, and then found Chan with his wife, shimmying on the dance floor. Mingyu pinched the bridge of his nose, but found himself beaming when he finally saw the smile grace your features. He didn’t let go of your hand, let you twirl him to the song that took you back to the musty basement of a frat party.

Chan, at some point, had managed to dance over in your direction, bumping into you with a big grin. “I knew all the alumni here would love this,” he shouted over the music. “Do you remember when you puked outside a window once at some party and you said that it was this song that induced it?”

You were surprised when Mingyu said, “Yes,” at the same time as you. Both you and Chan glanced at him, eyebrows raised, until he added, “That was at one of my parties. I cleaned your vomit off the windowsill!”

The four of you erupted in laughter. Even Adrianna remembered that party, considering that was the night you drunkenly introduced her to Chan. She eventually pulled you away from Mingyu, leading you towards her group of bridesmaids so you all could dance together. But your eyes couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s across the floor, and then he was looking at you, and – god dammit, staring at him felt like a crime you’d consider going to jail for.

Everyone was looking at him, but he was looking at you. 

Actually, Mingyu couldn’t seem to take his eyes off you. Not once.

He stared at you as if it was just you two, as if you were stripped bare before him, just for his eyes to see. You could tell from the way he bit his lip while smiling. He looked at you as if you were naked.

Soon enough, you were slipping through the crowd and by his side once again. He was now leaning against the wall by the open bar, nursing a scotch. The party was winding down; all the older family members had left, leaving Chan and Adrianna – plus a few other young couples – swaying to a classic Ed Sheeran song. It wouldn’t be long until they ended the night with Can’t Help Falling In Love by Elvis Presley. The time war nearing 11 PM. 

Slinking beside him, he offered the glass to you and you took a sip, wincing at the burn. You stuck out your tongue. “How can you drink that so smoothly?”

“Years of practice,” he replied, and then flicked your nose in a way that shouldn’t make you blush. But you definitely did. 

You blinked up at him, admiring how pretty he was in the faint, yellow light. Actually, he was pretty in every light, but you liked to find any excuse to admire him. Even if you denied it.

“Wanna get out of here?” You asked then, digging your nails into your palms. So afraid of rejection after all these years, even though he agreed to be here. “I think the reception is going to end soon anyway.”

“Yeah, sounds good.” He set his half empty glass on a random table and straightened his back before adding, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

God, you needed to get it together. Those words were the bare minimum, but when he said them in that slightly muffled voice, it made your nails pinch the inside of your hands harder.

You both stood on opposite sides of the elevator, dragging up, up, up to your room on the seventeenth floor. Your eyes connected. A smile played at his lips. An unspoken tension brewing between the two of you. A feeling you didn’t want to be there in the first place, but something you couldn’t simply ignore. 

This couldn’t be happening. Not today. Not tonight. Not ever again.

He opened the door for you, allowing you to slip inside and grab your bag. While he rifled through his duffle, you brought your bag into the bathroom and leaned against the sink. You allowed yourself a moment to just breathe. Maybe if you kept exhaling like this, you would release all the tension from your body. You knew how silly it sounded, but desperate times called for desperate measures. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, turning your face from side to side. Was it the makeup that made him look at you that way sometimes? Perhaps he still had a fondness for lipgloss, like he did back in the day.

When you finally stopped studying your appearance, you wiped off your makeup and tugged on a pair of loose pajamas. Wearing these would be so much more comfortable – and less awkward – than the robe you wore after the last wedding. You still had nightmares about that. Carefully tiptoeing out of the bathroom, you expected to find Mingyu already in one of the two  full size beds, scrolling through his phone and ignoring the noise you naturally made. But he was on the deck just outside your room, smoke billowing from his mouth. 

You stood near the unoccupied bed, balancing on the balls of your feet, as you debated your options. A smart person would go right to sleep, leave him to his business. You chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

Despite the slight warmth to the air, you threw on a hoodie, scared of the possibility of your nipples showing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. You slid open the door and immediately closed it, preventing any smoke from getting into the room. He didn’t turn; he knew exactly who was behind him. His back muscles flexed underneath his suit jacket, the joint dangling between his lips as he prayed for his lighter to work again.

“You probably shouldn’t be smoking in this suit,” you said, saddling up beside him.

He chuckled, finally taking a long drag. “I promise to get it dry cleaned before our next adventure.”

Before our next adventure. You bit the inside of your cheek.

Your eyes didn’t leave the joint now sitting between two of his fingers. (Jeez, were they always that big?) He let more smoke filter from his lips and into the open air, clouding up the starry night sky. Without even looking at you, he asked, “Why are you staring?” His words hung in the silence for a moment. “Have you ever smoked before?”

You shrugged. “Only once or twice with Vernon. Probably as freshmen.”

“You want me to show you how?”

Blinking at him, all you could do was dumbly nod. Mingyu laughed under his breath, fighting with his lighter again, before eventually holding the flame to the end. He then cautiously passed the joint over to you, allowing the filter to brush your lips. “Take it in your mouth,” he instructed, “now inhale.”

When you did as he asked, you must’ve inhaled far too deeply, or just didn’t exhale at the right time. Because then you were coughing, doubling over as you tried to catch your breath. “Hey, hey, hey,” he said, concern etched in his tone, and patted your back as you hacked up what felt like your left lung. His voice was soft, soothing, but you could hardly hear it through the ringing in your ears.

“Yeah,” you sighed, voice hoarse, “I’m definitely out of practice.”

As you stood up, his hand stayed on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing patterns. Your breath stilled as you looked up at him. Playing with the joint between his lips, he said, “Let me show you an easier way.”

“Okay,” you agreed, before your conscious could stop you.

You watched as he took a long pull from the joint, sucking it all in until you could see his eyes get a little pinker, and then moved closer to you. Instinctively, your eyes closed and your lips parted, welcoming the scent of him. His lips only lightly grazed yours as he exhaled the smoke into your mouth, letting it engulf your very being, and you felt yourself start to relax. He craned back, grinning down at you, and it took everything within you to not ask for another hit right then. 

In the moonlight, you could see why you fell hard for Mingyu. He had only gotten more handsome since college. Light, in any form, was so kind to him, but with the stars hanging above his head … it allowed his dark hair to shine, casting a slightly blueish tone to his warm features. You could see the twinkling stars reflecting in his eyes, especially when he leaned back in, expelling more smoke into your mouth.

This felt too intimate. This felt like fucking.

Once you both were so high you could do nothing but laugh, Mingyu stubbed out the joint and you stumbled back into the room. You both were finally going to have a good sleep at one of these, especially since there were two beds. Rolling into your bed, you immediately burrowed under the covers as Mingyu took off his suit in the bathroom.

The last thing you expected was to feel him plop down in your bed. He was wearing so little that it made your thighs press together, or maybe that was just the weed talking. He was disoriented, laying halfway off the edge of your bed, staring at you as if you were the Mona Lisa. You huffed, “Mingyuuu. You need to get in your own bed.”

“Do you really want that though?”

His words made your eyes immediately snap open. A grin was tugging at his mouth again, his teeth sinking into that plush bottom lip. Oh, so also wanted … Oh.

You tried to sound cool and nonchalant, “Considering this is a full size bed, yeah.”

Even in the darkness, even with his back to the moonlight streaming through the glass door – his presence was making you nervous. His eyes weren’t leaving yours. You felt your hand inch over, your pinky curling around his.

“If I can be so honest with you,” he whispered, licking at the corners of his lips, “you are so beautiful that I want to kill any guy that has done you wrong.”

You exhaled, “Mingyu …”

He leaned in, smiling like he knew he caught you in his trap. “Yes?”

You were pretty sure that you knew Kim Mingyu by now. You knew that this would be just another night that meant nothing to him. No matter how much he “changed” in Vernon’s eyes, it was very clear to you that he remained uncommitted. But fuck it, your heart was still burning from the breakup, stinging from the memory of people uttering your ex’s name tonight. It was only going to be a kiss. Just something to soothe the pain.

He was so much closer now, invading your space, his hand completely eclipsing yours.  He smelled like marijuana and lingering cologne. “Tell me to stop,” he murmured, but you didn’t. You let him kiss you, and god, it would be so much easier to dislike Mingyu if he didn’t kiss so well. 

It wasn’t long before his tongue was pushing into your mouth, his large body looming over yours as he pressed you into the mattress a little more. And you’re desperate for it; you couldn’t stop. This was supposed to be simple – just a kiss – but you could feel yourself falling under his spell, feel how his palms burned against your skin as they dragged down your torso. He explored your mouth like it was the first time, parting your legs to make room for himself on top of you. When his lips left yours, you almost let out a whine, but he helped take off your hoodie before reattaching his mouth to your neck. Those large hands snake under your shirt – up, up, and up – until he was cupping your breasts and you can feel how hard he is against your thigh.

Mingyu looked up at you as he kissed down your torso, his spit soaking through the thin fabric of the t-shirt you were still wearing. He lifted one of your legs, adjusting it so your thigh could rest comfortably on his shoulder and – shit, you knew where this was going. Reaching the waistband of your panties, he begged, “Let me go down on you.”

You mulled over his words. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

“No,” he grinned against your skin, meeting your eyes from between your legs. “But that’s a tomorrow problem. Please?” His head tilted. “Do I have to beg? I’m willing.”

You bit your tongue, egging him on a little as he nipped at the inside of your thigh. He bucked his hips once, them twice, trying to get the smallest bit of friction on his cock that was currently throbbing in his boxers. He grunted softly against your skin. 

“And if I say, ‘No?’” You asked with a raised brow.

He lifted his head and pouted his lips. After all these years, he still managed the perfect puppy dog eyes that could make just about anyone weak. “Don’t be mean,” he pleaded, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“You like when I’m mean,” you quipped, giving him permission by helping him shimmy your panties off. He adjusted your legs again, presenting you like a meal.

“I do,” he chuckled, his breath ghosting over your pretty, pink folds. “Especially, when you act like you didn’t want me here in the first place.”

Before you can rebuttal, he’s pressing his face between your thighs, dragging his tongue up your slit to collect the wetness that gathered there. Just the small amount of attention had you keening, your hips jumping for more of him, and Mingyu was happy enough to oblige. His tongue flicked at your clit as he slid one single finger inside of you, testing your limits. Those puppy dog eyes lifted from between your thighs, wanting to see you crumble, knowing that it was him who made you like this. You sighed out his name, your hand coming down to tangle in his hair. And god, if Mingyu didn’t love that … he’d be a dead man. He groaned when he felt you tug at the strands, beginning to swirl his tongue in a circle around your puffy clit.

You couldn’t even prepare yourself when he shoved another finger inside, pumping them in and out at an unreasonably fast pace. But you were bucking into him, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered for him. It was too much but almost too little at the same time. You could practically feel him smile as he devoured you. The bed rattled against the wall when he ground his erection against the frame, so needy and aching. His plump lips suckled on your clit, your slick smearing over his face, but he didn’t want to miss a drop of you. He needed more of you, so he started curling three fingers inside of you, teasing that sweet spot.

This wasn’t your first rodeo with Mingyu. He knew what you could take.

“Mingyu,” you whined, and he glanced up at you again with the most fucked-out eyes imaginable. And still, he didn’t stop. “You’re gonna … I’m gonna cum so fast.”

He moaned into you, then begged, “Please. Need to taste you.”

He was so determined, so desperate to feel you shake and moan and cry until he was completely spent on the taste of you. And it wasn’t long before he got his wish: as he shoved those three fingers into you, grazing your g-spot while lapping at you like you were his last meal on death row. You unraveled on his tongue, muffling your cries for the rest of the people sleeping on your floor. Biting into your hand, you had physically restrain your body from shaking as your orgasm rocked through you, but Mingyu held you down with a gentle hand on your stomach.  He was staring at you again and you were staring at him and fuck, his half-closed eyes made him look like he was drunk on you. You could feel him smirking into your pussy as he collected every last drop of you, knowing that he did a good job. He sighed with relief when he could finally taste you again and again and again.

Once your body settled, you felt him start to tug at your shirt and kiss up your stomach. The thought of now having him inside you made your hands clench with excitement, but dear god, he just knocked the wind out of you and you weren’t sure how you could last. You were spent, tired, probably could just fall asleep right now.

You weren’t feeling his lips on your skin anymore, so you opened your eyes. The moonlight gave you just enough to see that, despite the raging boner he probably had, Mingyu was now snoring softly with his head resting on your hips. Brows raised, you almost couldn’t believe that this was the moment he decided to fall asleep, but you couldn’t deny that you had been on the verge of doing the same. 

Untangling yourself from him, you quickly cleaned yourself up and wiped his face clean with a washcloth. You sighed, using all the brute strength you had to haul him up on what was supposed to be your bed, and wrapped the covers around him. You admired him for a moment, your hand coming up to smooth back his dark hair. Somehow, this felt even more intimate than you cumming in his mouth. So you quickly moved away and slipped under the sheets of the other bed, using his snores as white noise.

The next morning, neither of you spoke of what happened.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that he had a crush on you the moment Vernon introduced you two all those years ago, even when you disliked him. And slowly but surely, he was starting to realize it never truly went away.

Save the Date for the wedding of Joshua Hong and Jordan Lo: June 20th

Two months passed and the spring air turned sweltering. It was on days like this when you rolled the windows down and wasted gas just to get an overpriced iced coffee that you reminisced. You were taken back to a time when you waited by the curb as Vernon appeared from football practice, and even though he was sweaty, you still always agreed to drive him back to his dorm on the other side of campus. You would watch him say goodbye to his teammates and – shit, the light would catch, and suddenly you were looking at Mingyu wipe the sweat off his face while laughing with the quarterback and –

Now you were thinking about Mingyu again.

You had been thinking about him since April.

All of this felt so silly, like stupid games young 20-somethings played. You knew it wasn’t good for you in engage in – well, anything with Mingyu. He had always been perfectly uncommitted with women, and he was clearly obsessed with his work, posting his new recipes or pictures of him and his flag football team on his Instagram stories. You could handle this. You could be an adult and have a functional acquaintanceship with someone you found attractive. 

So you kept your distance. On the off chance that Mingyu was free and asked if you wanted to get together (which was a shock in itself), you declined. Even if you wanted to. Even if you desperately wondered what would come of it. The next wedding wasn’t until the end of June and you were already biting you lip at the thought of seeing him in a suit again.

The only person you could finally blabber to about this was Minghao, and in typical fashion, he laughed. Not that you expected anything less.

“You’re overthinking the entire situation,” he said over drinks. “It’s completely normal for you to have a little fun, especially while healing from a breakup. That’s what being single is all about, my friend.”

He was right. Of course, he was right. But what if Mingyu rejected you yet again, like he did in college? You wanted to talk to Vernon about this. He always gave you the best advice with this stuff, but this was his friend. The last thing you wanted was to make his friendship with Mingyu weird.

You attempted to ignore him. You redownloaded some dating apps as a distraction. You deleted them just as fast.

On the morning of June 20th, your cousin, Jordan, was marrying her longtime boyfriend, Joshua Hong. You had only met Josh on a number of occasions, but considering that they had been together for almost twelve years, you trusted him enough to take care of her. You felt lucky to be chosen as a bridesmaid and you’d never make a fuss, but dear god, the dark blue of this dress clashed with just about everything. The color was so dark and the dress was clinging to just about all of you and Mingyu’s tie was the wrong shade of blue –

Damn, did he look handsome though.

Jordan had made you both get to the venue early for a rehearsal dinner, and then once the morning came, you were whisked off to hair and makeup. You had barely said a word to Mingyu, too scared to give him anything besides small talk, but you couldn’t help but compliment the new suit he bought for the last few weddings. “Figured I’d cave and invest in one that wasn’t from Goodwill,” he explained, “for you.”

For you. For you. For you.

Your heels were hurting your feet halfway through the wedding, and despite how hard you were trying to focus on Josh’s vows, you couldn’t help but find Mingyu’s eyes in the crowd. He wasn’t paying attention to anyone else, his stare burning into yours to let you know his intent. You swallowed hard. Would anyone notice if you hid your blush behind the bouquet in your hands? It felt like torture having him look at you like this, as if there wasn’t an extravagant wedding happening around them, as if he wasn’t Kim Mingyu. 

It wasn’t until the reception that you could finally get a word in with your cousin, some much needed alone time after what was surely going to be the craziest wedding you went to this year. You both parked yourself near the open bar, ignoring the guests on the dance floor that were screaming for another round of the Cha Cha Slide. Tucking a strand behind your ear, Jordan said, “I can’t thank you enough for doing this for me. Jeez, I really didn’t think when I was three and met you a couple weeks after you were born that we’d be here. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You grinned, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” The bartender handed you a new glass of wine and you took a sip. “Besides, these days all I do is work or go to weddings. The life of being a permanent wedding guest, I supposed.”

“Speaking of guests …” Jordan turned her head slightly, ogling Mingyu from where he was standing up and trying to decline your great aunt’s advances to dance. Your cousin giggled. “He isn’t the older guy I thought you’d bring.”

“Circumstances change.” You shrugged, and she gave you a look. “I’d rather not get into it.”

Jordan’s brow raised. “You guys are having sex though, right?”

You almost choked while taking another sip of your wine. “Absolutely not.”

“You sure?”

“Well, I –” You sighed, and then decided to suck down the rest of the glass in one go. Jordan whistled. “We did at one point. Very long time ago. But he’s Vernon’s friend and … it’s a long story.”

“Sounds like it,” she snorted, eyes flickering around the reception until they landed somewhere behind you. “Well, if you’re not having sex with him, my friend just might tonight.”

Your expression muddled, until she pointed over your shoulder. Turning around, you found Jordan’s Maid of Honor chatting up Mingyu near the stairs that lead to the restrooms. Her hand was inching up his sleeve and he was blushing at what you could only assume was a compliment coming from her lips. He was clearly enjoying the conversation, despite the intimate looks he was giving you earlier. 

Classic fucking Kim Mingyu, you thought.

A pang of jealousy surfaced that you couldn’t control. It was probably best for everyone if you walked away and took a breather. After Joshua pulled his wife onto the dance floor, you adjusted the tight silk of your dress and headed for the bathrooms. You walked past them, your perfume wafting past Mingyu’s nostrils, a scent he would know anywhere. 

Instead of going inside the bathroom, you decide to stand in the empty hall connected to the venue and brace your back against the cool wall. You sighed, gathering yourself, completely unaware it wasn’t just you here until you heard the squeak of someone else’s shoes.

“I noticed you were empty,” Mingyu muttered as a way of greeting. He was holding two glasses of rosé between his fingers, stepping down the small staircase to get to you.

It was just you two now, and he was handing you the glass while standing so close that you could smell his cologne. Had this dress always felt that tight, or could you just not breathe right now? You watched the way his eyes flickered to your mouth, and it took everything in you not to yank him closer by the tie. Instead, you took a big gulp of rosé.

“You didn’t have to come after me,” you remarked, and then nodded your head in the direction of the Maid of Honor now on the dance floor. “You looked like you were having fun.”

Mingyu simply tilted his head to the side, studying you carefully.

“She’s pretty. Don’t stop on my account, but please be aware that we are sharing a room so you can’t bring anyone back there.”

Mingyu’s lips slowly curved into a grin. “Are you jealous?”

You scoffed, “No. I’m just … being realistic.”

Taking your half empty glass from your hand, he set them both down on a side table right near the women’s restroom. Your mouth opened, but the words died as soon as he placed a hand beside your head on the wall. He was so tall that he towered over you, even in heels, leaning into your space with pretty, half-opened eyes as he stared at your glossy lips.

“Can I be realistic with you?” He didn’t give you a moment to answer. “I cannot stop thinking about our last night together. I know you probably thought it happened because of the weed, but I … these past two months, it’s all I’ve been thinking about. And it’s killing me that I’ve been trying to be normal this whole night when all I’ve wanted to do is drag you away and make you cum again.”

Your breath hitched slightly at his words. He leaned in then, grazing his nose over the side of your face, desperate to be in your orbit. You took your bottom lip between your teeth and tried to control your heart rate, but how was that even possible when Mingyu’s other hand was brushing up and down your side, tangled in the silk.

“Well, that …” You swallowed hard. “That wouldn’t be a good idea considering all my family is here.”

He tsked under his breath. “Obviously, it wouldn’t be, but …” You felt his nose at your jaw, inhaling the scent of your perfume again, the one that made him crazy. And he damn near groaned in your ear. 

“Mingyu, you … you –”

“Fuck, how could you think I’m looking at anyone else here when you look this good in your dress?” His voice had taken on that needy tone he always got when he was horny. It almost felt like a reward to be able to hear it again. “I’ve been half-hard this entire reception just from looking at you, remembering the way you tasted …” He muttered another curse.

This was how he always acted. Mingyu could be so desperate and pleading when he wanted to get someone in bed, needy to the point he would do anything just to please you, but god – you couldn’t deny how much you liked it. He was reeling you in. You were like fish to bait.

Slowly, he laced your dominant hand with his and moved it from his belt buckle to his groin. You could barely breathe when you felt him harden under your touch, and then you remembered you were still in a public hallway, where just about anyone could walk by. 

Your eyes met his half-lidded ones as he murmured, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

And god help you, because you whimpered at the sound of his voice, slick starting to gather between your thighs.

“Okay, Mingyu, just …” You sighed, composing yourself because you knew he wasn’t going to any time soon. Your hand slipped away from his and he huffed, his forehead falling to rest on your shoulder. “Go to our room and let me make my rounds. I’ll meet you up there.”

He stood up. For a moment, he was almost tempted to drag you into the bathroom and bury his face between your legs, too hungry to let you get away now. But one of your uncles was walking down the hall, and you separated quickly. With a nod, you walked back to the reception and said goodbye to your family that you didn’t get to talk to for too long prior. Jordan gave you a look when you mentioned about going to bed early, and even Josh told you how weird you were being, but your cousin shut him up and sent you a wink.

You exhaled heavily and headed back to hotel on the other side of the venue. Slipping your heels off once you were inside the elevator, you debated if giving into Mingyu this easily was the smart thing to do. Smart? Definitely not. But would it be enjoyable? You didn’t need to answer that question. Mingyu knew what he was doing.

As you unlocked the door to your hotel room, you began to wonder if you were just setting yourself up to be hurt again. He didn’t come back to you like this in college, but what’s stopping him from telling you that he’s “just not that into you” at the next wedding? Or what if he just thought of you as an easy hookup that would get his dick wet every 2 months? Well, you hadn’t done that yet –

Yet. Yet. Yet.

The word repeated in your head like a melody, because when you threw your purse down and saw Mingyu walking out of the bathroom, fresh from a shower and dressed in only a towel around his waist, you realized that you were most definitely getting his dick wet tonight. Whether it was in your mouth or somewhere deeper, you were salivating for it. 

He was smiling at you and you were smiling at him and Jesus, he was so goddamn handsome that you couldn’t believe that he was the one desperate for you. Droplets of water trickled down his tan skin and that towel around his waist was just barely holding on. His torso was chiseled and his arms – fuck, his biceps were bigger than you remembered. He was something out of a dream – some horny, fucked-up dream that you only had after masturbating before bed.

He was on you instantly, pushing you against the wall and kissing you hard. Sighing into the kiss, your hands fist into the towel to yank him closer, but it only makes the flimsy fabric fall. You break away for a moment to mutter, “Oh, shit,” but his lips can’t stay away from yours for long. And he’s laughing, like you did exactly what he wanted. You were too hypnotized by the scent of his body wash to care.

Dragging his lips down your neck, he sucked at the spot that he knew made your thighs press together, grinning proudly against your skin when you moaned. His fingers gripped the soft silk of your dress, slowly pulling the fabric up to feel you that much closer. But it wasn’t enough. No matter how much he liked you in this dress – and god, did he like you in this dress – he needed you out of it. Now.

Mingyu unzipped your dress with precision, setting it down on one of the two beds in the room, and both of you were suddenly wishingthere was only one. His hands smoothed down your sides, his breath hot against your mouth. He just wanted to feel you everywhere. He almost didn’t want to step away, afraid you’ll slip through his fingers like sand. When you two had hooked up in college, it was quick and explosive, letting out the tension that had been building for years. There was so much territory for him to cover now, so many ways for him to find out what made you whine and sigh with pleasure. But, if he were being honest, all he wanted right now was for you to –

“Sit on my face,” he begged, caging you into the wall, pressing his hard cock against your stomach. So desperate for just an ounce of friction, so hungry for another taste of you. He could literally start drooling at the thought of it. He was mesmerized by you; he’d do anything you asked just to have your pussy on his tongue again.

But you seemed to be debating your options, biting you lip again, and he wished that didn’t turn him on even more. You were just so pretty, and the way your face scrunched as you decided on something was a sight he couldn’t help but think about when he touched himself, even all those years ago. It was just you. You. 

Eventually, your face relaxed, and you replied, “Well, you don’t have to beg me.”

Mingyu’s lips pulled into a smile, and he laughed while pulling you down onto the nearest bed. Despite his request, you continued to straddle his torso and kiss him for just a little while longer. He was needy, moaning into your mouth whenever his cock bumped against your ass, but all you wanted to feel his lips on yours, tangle your tongue with his, even if it was just for another minute. 

You forgot Mingyu was stronger than you, though. It wasn’t much longer before he was yanking your body up and turning you around so you knelt just above his face. He inhaled the scent of your pussy and almost breathed a sigh of relief, but instead muttered, “Such a tease sometimes.”

Now that you were hovering above him, you were suddenly self conscious about how excited you were and if your arousal was seeping onto his face. You couldn’t even see if he was thrilled or not, since he had turned you to face away from him, but the way his cock jumped in front of your eyes told you enough. His hands gripped your thighs tight. “I don’t want to crush you,” you said nervously.

“You could suffocate me and I wouldn’t have a problem with it."

You chewed on your bottom lip. His tone was firm, probably the most serious you’d ever heard from him. But you were embarrassed and this was crazy and you still so wet. With flushed cheeks, you asked, “Mingyu, are you –”

“Yes,” he answered before pulling you down onto his face.

He wasn’t teasing you tonight. He was devouring you without even letting you catch your breath. His tongue swiping at your clit before he sucked on it – hard. So hard that you let you a sound that was a mixture of a yelp and a moan. Gripping you roughly, he spread you wider, drinking more of you in. Your hips moved on their own, grinding against his face, which made him groan into your pussy. The vibration in his voice spread throughout your entire body, goosebumps lining your flesh. “Mingyuuu,” you whined, begging for more, and you could practically feel him smirk as he flicked at your swollen clit. 

Leaning forward, you turned your head up and noticed again just how hard he was. His cock had always been perfect: the perfect size, dark pink at the tip, veins etched into the shaft. Precum beaded at the head, sliding down every so slowly, as he throbbed and ached and – god, his hips were almost thrusting into the air now. You didn’t doubt he could get off for hours on this, but that didn’t mean he needed to be unsatisfied.

Besides, you wanted something to do with your mouth anyway.

Mingyu whimpered as you shifted slightly to reach his cock. Your body stretched, your mouth at the perfect angle as you flicked the head with your tongue. He pulled you back towards his mouth, shoving his tongue inside your tight hole and making you gasp at the same time you licked a stripe up his shaft. His tongue worked you open while you swirled your own along the tip, and then finally took him into your mouth.

The grunt he released should’ve caused an earthquake.

You bobbed your head up and down his shaft, choking when he bucked into your mouth.  You could hardly breathe, taking every opportunity to inhale through your nose, but you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. God forbid, you have a hobby like wanting Kim Mingyu’s cock in  your mouth. He took the liberty of grinding you against his face with his own hands, wrapping his lips around your clit again, eager to taste your climax. And to be honest, he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last if you kept sucking on his tip like that. He groaned each time, feeling your tongue circle his head before going back down, taking as much as you could, as if you were rewarding him. And he just couldn’t help but whine along with you.

Your lips pulled off him to kitten lick the veins along the sides of his shaft, and you breathily asked, “Are you close?”

His only response was a moan straight into your pussy.

You nodded, even if he couldn’t see it, before your mouth opened like second nature. You spit on his cock and stuffed him down your throat once again. Head moving faster, you were slobbering on him like a dog in heat, trying not to gag and failing. Your free hand snaked up to cup one of his balls, and the sound he released was deafening. His tongue flicked and sucked at your clit like he had nothing left to live for, hungry for every last drop of your essence.

But then you were cumming, and he was too not long after.

You cried, choking on his cock as you came all over his face. White blurred in your vision, and you were a mess of sweat and spit and so much cum. He exploded in your mouth a moment later, hot seed running down your throat, and you consumed all of it. Neither of you wanted to miss out on the taste of each other. It was filthy, intoxicating, how much you liked this. How much you could suck him off over and over again, and not get tired of him.

You didn’t know it at the time, but Mingyu would say the same about you. If not worse.

He could spend all day between your thighs and never want to leave.

When you both finally angled off each other, spent and exhausted, your breathing was heavy and off by two seconds. Mingyu was glancing over at you before you could even process, a smile playing at his swollen lips. He brushed away a strand of hair that was stuck to your sweaty forehead.

“Mingyu,” you finally said, “has anyone ever told you that you have boyfriend dick?”

Mingyu had wanted to tell you how much he’d been dreaming of that moment, how much you had haunted his dreams and left him waking up so hard that he felt he was going through puberty again. Sometimes he dreamed of how good it would feel when he finally slipped into you, inch by inch. You’d feel like home.

Save the Date for the wedding of Lee Seokmin and Quinn Song: July 31st

You couldn’t go a day without talking to Mingyu. Whether it be through text or over the phone, you were joking with him, telling him about your day, and vice versa. Just a month prior, you had tried keeping your distance, but now … you simply couldn’t help yourself. It was like there was a voice inside your head telling you to contact him, to send him a funny video you saw that day, to tell him about the show you were currently watching. And on nights when you had too much to drink, that voice made you text him that you missed him. He always said he missed you too.

Mingyu: I’m watching that show you recommended

Mingyu: kinda wish you were watching it with me

Mingyu: but I’m still content here and I can see why you like it so much

You: right?? I knew you’d like it!

You couldn’t help but giggle at your phone when his texts came through. And you answered them immediately, like you always did. 

Mingyu: what are you doing right now?

You: wouldn’t you like to know

Neither of you made the effort to go on an actual date. It was all just flirty texts with a TikTok mixed in every once in a while. Promises about going back to that coffee shop someday, but never planning the day. To be honest, this was one of those moments where you were glad Mingyu was so uncommitted. If you started going on dates that didn’t include a vow exchange in between, it would be so easy to fall for him again, and then be let down when he eventually didn’t want to see you after wedding season. 

Mingyu: I mean that’s why I asked

You: I’m hanging out with

A pillow was suddenly thrown at your head. “Ow!” You shouted, head shooting up from your phone to glare at Vernon sitting on the other side of the couch. “What the hell was that for?”

“Anakin is literally burning alive and all you can do is look at your phone!” Vernon scoffed, turning Revenge of the Sith back on. You set your phone down on your lap as he muttered, “Kinda wish I never won that bet.”

Vernon, obviously, was becoming increasingly annoyed that you and Mingyu had rekindled … whatever this was. Sometimes you wondered if you were talking to Mingyu more than your best friend, but given the way Vernon was acting, that was probably the case. You probably shouldn’t even be texting Mingyu while hanging out with Vernon. Bad friend move; happens to the best of us. 

You apologized to Vernon in the best way possible: you bought him fried chicken from his favorite spot.

As summer came along, so did Seokmin and Quinn’s wedding at the end of the month, an invitation that was barely hanging on by an old Britney Spears magnet on your fridge. Quinn Song had been your first ever roommate out of college. You both had met on a Facebook group to find roommates in the area and quickly hit it off. She had been your roommate up until last year actually, when her now-fiancé Lee Seokmin asked her to move in with him. It was at that point that you finally decided to live alone, besides the few days out of the week that Vernon crashed at your apartment.

The wedding was being held on a pretty island in the northeast, nestled on the expansive grounds of a bed and breakfast in the area. The spot felt warm and lived in, the exact kind of place you imagined Quinn would get married at. 

Meeting Mingyu at the airport had been awkward, but at the very least, you two were sitting in different rows of the plane. Maybe it shouldn’t have been as cringe-worthy as it was, given the fact that you two had been talking nonstop, but it was the memory that the last time you did see each other in person, you were sitting on his face and his cock was so far down your throat –

Mingyu had found your eyes a couple rows behind him on the plane. Even he was blushing now, as if he could read your thoughts.

You had rented a car once you reached your destination and threw him the keys, letting him drive the convertible down the coast while the summer breeze whipped through your hair. You tried not to notice the way his hand twitched on the gear shift, like he was itching to place his palm on your thigh, to ground himself to your presence. But he didn’t. He couldn’t. Especially when all you could do was stare out the window with a big smile on your face.

Unfortunately, you had to book a room at a small hotel near the bed and breakfast since all the rooms were used for the wedding party. The hotel was quaint, but definitely old and smelled like the Febreze scent your mom used to love when you were a kid. Your room was tinier than the pictures implied, but it was on the first floor and had a screen door that opened to a pretty view of the ocean. You didn’t have much time to enjoy it though, considering that the ceremony was in a few hours and the reception would probably carry on until way past midnight.

You decided to rewear the floral sundress that made a previous appearance at Chan and Adrianna’s wedding. It wasn’t like anyone here was at that event, and honestly, you didn’t care. Throwing your hair up into a perfectly messy updo, you curled a few pieces and took your time with your diligent makeup routine. Mingyu was in his suit before you could even blink, biding his time while you got ready by watching past game recordings of the flag football team he taught and trying to identify key moves they missed out on. As you finished up and clumsily slipped on your shoes, the perfume you sprayed seemed to beckon him like a siren song, and suddenly, he was leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, meeting your eyes in the mirror.

Your brows shot up. “Done with your flag football research?”

“You’re beautiful,” he replied.

You turned, unable to stop your lips from pulling into a soft smile. His expression was so warm, cheeks tinged slightly pink either from embarrassment or a nasty sunburn. He was beautiful. In ways you couldn’t even comprehend. 

Holding out your necklace to him, you asked, “Can you help me put this on?”

He nodded, plucking the dainty chain from your palm. You moved back to the mirror as he struggled to open the clasp with his thick fingers, but he got it eventually. Placing the thin, gold chain around your neck, you watched the small, star-shaped pendant sit so delicately under your collarbones. He fixed the clasp on your neck, his fingers brushing the top of your spine, and you watched him lean forward in the mirror.

His lips ghosted over the shell of your ear, breath hot and making the hairs on your neck stand up. “I meant it, by the way,” he whispered, and then placed the softest of kisses behind your ear. 

Your breath hitched, and you were unable to form a single coherent thought. For the first time in a while, he was catching you by surprise. He was moving back, and you noticed him smirk in the mirror, knowing exactly how he was affecting you. That annoying asshole –

“Ready to head out?” He asked, grabbing his wallet from the desk.

You huffed and tugged the strap of your purse onto your shoulder. “Of course.”

The grounds of the bed and breakfast were bigger than you assumed, enough to fit an extremely large tent and hardwood floor for all the guests to congregate. The ceremony was held near the shoreline of the ocean, and it was so, unapologetically Quinn to have a few seashell pins in her veil as she walked towards her husband. You had known Seokmin as long as Quinn had been your roommate, but you had never seen this kind of smile on his face until now. He completely lit up at the sight of her, and he didn’t waste a second to say, “I do,” once his time came.

As the guests crowded into the tent for the reception, Mingyu seemed to hold onto you like a toddler with it’s parent. His arm was locked around yours, letting you lead him through the crowd, even though he was tall enough to see over the tops of everyone’s heads. His palm was so warm on your wrist, and then his fingers were so easily lacing through yours, and you squeezed because you simply couldn’t help yourself. 

You were able to find your table easily, but you didn’t recognize the other people already there. They introduced themselves as Seokmin’s friends, and you remembered seeing one or two of them at a bar. You still couldn’t get a read on these people, and found yourself swiftly growing silent around their shared camaraderie. But Mingyu was suddenly so talkative, catching along with their jokes just as quickly, so you stood and whispered in his ear, “Do you want a drink?”

He leaned back to meet your eyes, and you swore time stopped for a moment. His hand reached down, squeezing your wrist, as he said, “You know what I like.”

Jesus. Fuck. Since whendid he have you this wrapped around his finger?

(Probably since sophomore year of college.)

You nodded, swinging your head in the direction of the bar, and your feet had started to head there when you halted in place. It almost felt like your heels were glued to the floor as you found the face of the last person you expected to be here. The only face that could make all the noise drown out around you.

Your ex.

He still had that same curl that always got in his eyes. He was wearing the same suit he wore to your mother’s engagement party last year. The same watch on his wrist; the same cufflinks. Same. Same. Same. And now, he was meeting your eyes across the room. Bodies formed in clusters under the tent – some hugging, some stumbling into each other – but he was unable to look away.

Until a head popped up in front of him, standing from her chair at the table. Her wedge sandals almost made her taller than him, and her dress looked expensive enough that he probably bought it. You didn’t know her, but you knew of her. Well, at least, you knew what the back of her head looked like, and that was her right there. 

You couldn’t forget the night even if you tried. Exhaustion had your shoulders sagging as you unlocked the door to your boyfriend’s apartment. He didn’t typically keep it locked, but you had a key anyway. You remembered how quiet the place was, except for the soft sounds echoing from his bedroom. At first, you thought he was just masturbating, and to be honest, you were too tired to engage in anything tonight. But a voice in your head had urged you to move, to go, go, go towards his room. And you were slowly pushing open the door, only to find your boyfriend fucking your 22-year-old neighbor from behind, yanking on her short hair like a leash. You had been too scared to move, too scared to breathe, but eventually, you had started wailing. His eyes had found yours – exactly like in this moment – and he screamed, slipping away completely as your back slid to the floor. He had tried explaining, tried to yell at the young girl, but everything had drowned away in that moment, and all you could hear was the ringing in your ears –

Your breathing was growing rapid, just like that day at his apartment. Sprinting to the inside of the bed and breakfast, you tried to act normal and say hello to whoever you knew mingling by the bathroom. But something was clearly very wrong. It was evident in your eyes, the way tears were pricking at the sides. You almost thought the universe was pulling a cruel prank on you, but then you remembered that it was Quinn who had introduced you two in the first place, that he had been a friend of a friend. 

Climbing up the staircase in the lobby, you plopped yourself down on the middle step and let your face fall into your hands. You began to count your breaths – one, two, three, one, two, three – anything to make you get a semblance of control. But you could feel your brain spinning, and your heart was beating too fast. Was this what it felt like to die? Was your cheating ex going to be the last face you saw before you completely slumped against this staircase? Vernon always said you had a flair for the dramatic. What a fitting way to end.

You felt a weight sink into the plush carpet next to you, and you lifted your head, tears brimming your eyes.

“You do realize that this isn’t your party. You can’t cry if you want to,” Mingyu joked, reaching out and swiping the tear at your lash line. His eyes softened then, looking at you like you were something fragile, like a baby bird. “What’s wrong?” His voice was hardly about a whisper.

You sniffled, dabbing at the corners of your eyes with your knuckles. The last thing you needed was your makeup messed up. “This is so embarrassing. I’m crying over something so …” Your words trailed off, noticing that he was leveling a look at you. You sighed before admitting, “I forgot that the bride, Quinn, might invite my ex because they were friends. Somewhat.”

“Your ex? As in that ex?” His brow shot up, and you nodded. “Did he come alone?”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, and after a moment, you watched his large palm slowly envelope one of yours. The rough pads of his fingers – the hands of a cook – brushed over your knuckles, and his touch was so warm that it could burn. 

His voice was soft in your ear as he said, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You chuckled a little, turning to look at him again. “Then we’d be sitting on this staircase forever.”

He smiled at you and stretched out his long legs. “That’s fine with me.”

Your lips pursed, and you found him staring at them for a moment. A sigh escaped, and you glanced down at your laced hands. How perfectly they fit together, how he held you with such a fierce softness. His thumb grazed the scar on your knuckle that you got the first time you fell off your bike. Finally, you answered, “He came here with the girl he cheated on me with.”

Mingyu didn’t speak, but you did hear him do a sharp intake.

“She’s twenty-two. She didn’t – she doesn’t know any better. He’s in his early thirties and he’ll do it again,” you continued, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment. “I found them in his apartment after I came home from a late meeting at work. It was … messy. Walking in on them, the fallout, now this … everything about that breakup has felt like one big mess. And now, I have to see him here and be reminded of it all–fucking–over again.”

You didn’t even dare to meet his eyes as the next words tumbled out of your mouth, already feeling your voice start to break again. “It didn’t just hurt because I found them. It hurt because … I never wanted to become my mother. I love her. I really do. But the last thing I ever wanted was to become her. Be in the same situation as her. And yet, there I was, witnessing yet another infidelity that would affect my life for what seems like forever.” You rubbed at your running nose. “I found my father cheating too. It wasn’t exactly the same. I found him kissing my best friend’s mom in my parent’s bedroom one night when my mother stayed at work too late. The sentiment still stands, and history was always bound to repeat itself. Daughters always become their mothers and I always have to bear witness to another man not choosing to stick around –”

Mingyu stopped you by turning your face towards his, one hand cupping your cheek. His thumb skimmed the tears running through your blush. He didn’t say anything; his eyes let you know that he was here. That he was sticking around. Despite everything you thought of him, despite your past – Mingyu was here. 

He held you for as long as you needed, gathering you in his arms and cradling your head against his shoulder. He let your tears soak into the fabric of his expensive suit, promising he’d get it dry-cleaned, which made you laugh. Your fingers clutched his lapels and you almost considered not letting go. You would give anything to stay in this bubble, to sit on this staircase in his embrace forever.

“I meant what I said all those months ago,” he said, his voice muffled from his lips at the crown of your head. “I would kill any guy that has done you wrong. Do you want me to kill him?”

You chuckled and raised your head from his shoulder. “What are you gonna kill him with? A butter knife?” You shook your head. “No chef is gonna let you in that kitchen tonight to grab a weapon. You of all people should know that.”

Mingyu grimaced. “This conversation is getting morbid.”

Another laugh bubbled at your lips. “You brought it up!”

“And you’re smiling again,” he said, making your hands hold onto him tighter. “That’s all I could ask for.”

Such simple words could take your breath away, especially when they came from his mouth. You searched his eyes for a moment, your fingers now smoothing out the creases in his lapel. Eventually, you whispered, “I don’t know if I can survive this whole reception. I hate the awkward tension, but I should stay for Quinn.”

“Trust me, I know,” he snickered, and his hand covered over yours as an anchor. “I say we stay at the reception for as long as your comfortable. Then we go to bed early. Whatever works for you.”

Your smile was so kind as you nodded along with his plan. After touching up your makeup, you took his hand and let him lead you back to the reception. Once you saw Quinn in her short, after party dress and looking at Seokmin with stars in her eyes, you instantly felt more at ease. This was her day; you wouldn’t let one person sour it. And Mingyu, clearly, wasn’t going to let your own nerves sour it either. Anytime you locked eyes with your ex, there Mingyu was, distracting you by whispering in your ear how pretty you looked or asking you about your best memories while living with Quinn. There was one moment where you saw your ex heading in your direction, assuming he was finally going to talk to you, and Mingyu stood up to whisk you onto the dance floor. His large arms enveloped you, holding you close, as you swayed to one of your favorite songs. Everything about him felt safe, secure, and he even let you stand on his feet when you told him you had never been that good at dancing. And when you looked at him, you noticed that he was staring at you like how Quinn looked at Seokmin during her speech. Even when you had cried, had let him in, see parts of you that not even Vernon touched … he looked at you like you were the only person in the room.

You stayed at the reception far longer than anticipated. When you told Mingyu that you were too tired to stay any longer, he didn’t question it. He simply grabbed your purse and jacket before taking your arm in his, walking the short distance back to your Febreze-ridden hotel. The first thing you did once you were back in your room was take off your heels. They were only a kitten heel, but your feet were already blistering, and you winced as you went to the bathroom to wash off your makeup. Mingyu had set your stuff down on the small desk before walking out onto the deck connected to your room. You craned your neck out, assuming he was going to smoke a joint, but he was just staring at the ocean, noticing how loud the waves crashed against the shore.

You padded out of the bathroom and leaned against the door frame for a moment, admiring him in the dim light. It almost left in you in disbelief how you had roped Kim Mingyu, one of the most attractive men you’d ever met and probably one of the longest crushes you’d ever had in your life, into being your wedding date for an entire year. He had a lost a bet, but he really didn’t have to be here. He didn’t have to invest in a new suit. He didn’t have take the time off from his two jobs. He didn’t have to listen to your trauma, or look at you like you were this painting to be worshipped, this Mona Lisa of sorts. Mingyu could’ve said no. 

But he didn’t. 

“I’m going to take a shower,” you finally informed him, and he turned to meet you eyes. “Can you help me out of my dress?”

He nodded diligently, following you to the bathroom. You pulled your hair up with one hand, and with deft fingers, he slid the zipper down your back. Typically, you would hold the dress to your chest until he left the bathroom, out of respect, but you were letting it pool at your feet tonight. You stepped out of it, your gaze locking with his as you turned on the shower. You were giving him this look and he was still standing there in his half-buttoned dress shirt, hands forming into fists as he fought the urge touch you. Waiting for a sign. Waiting for your permission.

But you didn’t even have to say anything. Your eyes said the words for you. As you climbed into the standing shower, he took his time removing his suit, pretending as if he wasn’t fucking dying to have his hands on you, and then he was behind you, the hard panes of his chest flush against your back. He closed the shower door as the glass began to fog up.

The water was scalding as it rained down on your head, steam forming around the small bathroom. You could still feel the dried tears on your face, imprinted underneath your makeup all night, and you did your best to wash them away. Mingyu noticed the way your shoulders sagged, the way you sighed while you were lost in thought, and as much as wanted touch you in places that made those sweet sounds fall from your lips, he held himself back. Instead, he let his hands comb through your wet hair before scrubbing shampoo into the strands. You relaxed against him, closing your eyes as he washed your hair.

It was so domestic that you could cry. 

(Again.)

The last person you ever thought could be capable of this kind of care was Mingyu. You both had known each other for eight years, and not once had he displayed this kind of person around you. Or maybe you just weren’t paying attention, too lost in your own perception of him. Even now, you couldn’t help but remind yourself of when he avoided you after the hookup in senior year. He really isn’t the same guy, Vernon’s voice echoed in your head. Give him a chance. You had never trusted those words, but in this moment … you realized where you had went wrong.

The water began to get cold when it came time to wash his own hair and you could tell he was struggling to rush. His mannerisms made you giggle, and even though the steam began to dissipate from the room, you still turned to his front and rested your forehead on his chest, letting the lukewarm water beat down your neck.

When you walked out of the shower, you had never felt more fresh and at ease. Your body was all warm and you had brought the comfiest pajamas for summer weather. The breeze wafting off the ocean blew through your room from the open screen door, and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore could lull you to sleep.

But right now, it seemed like neither of you were keen on the subject. As you slipped under the covers next to each other, you were grateful that there was only one bed: one large, king-sized bed that both of you could be using to spread out. Instead, you were huddled close, hair still wet from the shower, and his arms locked around you like he couldn’t bear the thought of letting you go. Your hands cupped his face, studying parts of him that you didn’t think of in your previous lust-induced hazes. Fingers traced his lips, brushed over the tip of his nose – where his tiny mole was stamped – before you skimmed the shell of his ear.

You almost didn’t recognize your own voice as you whispered, “Thank you for tonight.”

“Anytime,” he smiled.

A beat of silence. Hands stilled. Lips pursed.

“Mingyu?”

“Yeah?”

“Please, kiss me.”

His mouth was on yours before you could even finish the sentence, but he still took his time exploring new ways to make you moan into the kiss. He kept one hand splayed on your back, pressing you further into him, while the other played with the hem of your loose t-shirt. Your hands knotted into his hair as he kissed you slow, savoring you like a fine meal. And you simply let him. You were like molten lava, melting in the palm of his calloused hands. 

You felt his fingers prod at the waistband of your shorts, and it was game over. Slipping them under, he practically whined into your mouth when he realized you hadn’t put any panties on after the shower. His mouth disconnected from yours, fingers sliding between your slick folds. “Are you trying to kill me?” He breathed against your lips.

“In my defense,” you chuckled softly, “I forgot to bring them to the bathroom.”

He laughed with you, and you were debating on crying again because he was so kind and good and definitely just as obsessed with you as you were with him. No matter how many times you didn’t want to admit it, you had somehow fallen into Kim Mingyu’s trap once again. 

He kissed you again, hungrier this time, as he spread you open with his fingers. You whimpered, but he swallowed it with his tongue and began to rub tight circles on your clit. Your leg lifted, hooking onto his waist, and you bucked against his hand. Your body felt like it was on fire, but Mingyu was careful, plucking your strings like a guitar, and you needed moremoremore. Pushing two fingers inside of you, his kiss was like a sound barrier as he consumed all your sweet sounds, as if that would allow him to hear them forever. 

It was only when you came apart that he dragged his lips to your neck, wanting to focus on your moans as he fucked you with his fingers. He felt you shake, your pussy squeezing his thick fingers, and he kept rubbing your clit through it, wanting to prolong your orgasm as much as possible. If not for you, then for him, just so he could hear you. He would make you cum as many times as you wanted if it meant he could hear his name falling from your lips. 

Neither of you wanted to stop; all fumbling hands and shaky limbs as he finally tugged your shorts off. It was a lot more difficult to take off his boxers without separating from you, but you laughed and you were so pretty that he almost forgot what he was doing in the first place. Once he was situated, you rolled on top of him, straddling his lap. You held his face in your hands, and for a moment, you could almost see reflections of the dark ocean outside in his starry gaze. Your palms drifted down, fingertips tracing the hard panes of his chest. He was all muscle, sculpted like your very own David statue; his complexion so similar to golden hour personified.

You lifted your t-shirt off and tossed it onto the floor. Mingyu was already so hard that it hurt, but he took a few more seconds to stare at you. He wanted to remember this moment forever: the sight of you on top of him, naked and vulnerable, hair wet and a faint blush on your cheeks.

Sitting up on your knees, you positioned yourself right over his cock and gripped the shaft to get the perfect angle inside of you. You were looking at him and he was looking at you as you lowered yourself slightly, grazing his tip against your wet slit, still dripping from your previous orgasm. Mingyu groaned at the sensitivity, throwing his head back against the pillow and muttering, “This is so mean.”

“You like when I’m mean,” you giggled, repeating the same words you uttered that fateful night after Chan’s wedding, when Mingyu’s face was buried between your thighs.

And Mingyu recognized it too, a grin making it’s way to his lips. But that was soon replaced by look of complete bliss as you finally sunk down onto his cock. He was the perfect size, filling you just right but never uncomfortable. He gave you a moment to adjust, but you could tell from his white-knuckled grip on your hips that he was damn near fighting the urge to thrust up into you. He didn’t though. He was patient and perfect and all yours.

You anchored yourself to him with one hand on his shoulder, beginning to rock into him at a snail’s pace. Your eyes connected, and even as he moaned underneath you, he was unable to stop smiling. Mingyu let you set the pace, and you took your time, getting to know what speed had him pulling your hips harder. The angle had him buried so deep inside that you could practically feel him in your stomach, and you sighed each time as you moved against him. 

“Fuck,” he whined, shifting to sit up against the headboard. “I’ve needed you so bad.”

“I know, I know,” you confessed in a breathy whimper. “Me too.”

He was digging his fingers into your hips so hard that you were sure there’d be marks, but you didn’t care right now. You just wanted him, wanted this. Wanted to be this connected to him and feel him this deep and cum together as the waves crashed against the shore outside. He began to move you on his own accord, bouncing you on his cock as he leaned forward to nip and suck at your neck. “So pretty,” he mused against your skin, breath stuttering as your walls tightened. “So pretty sitting on my cock.”

You were the one whining now, raking your fingers into his dark strands as your thigh muscles burned. Your breasts jumped with each slam of his hips against yours, and he planted hot, open-mouthed kisses down your throat, dipping his tongue into your collarbone, before latching his mouth around one of your nipples.

Your hands pulled at his hair. “Mingyu, please,” you cooed, not exactly sure what you were begging for. Just moremoremore. 

His eyes lifted to yours and you watched him fucking smile while tugging at your nipple. You were melting like putty, and he was able to still move you with one hand, using his free one to cup your other breast and run his thumb over that nipple. Tears pricked at your eyes, feeling him pulse inside you with each pass. And when he started to thrust up into you, you were pretty sure that you were close to seeing stars.

“Wanna cum with you,” he rasped while switching breasts and flicking his tongue over your other nipple. “Please, wanna cum inside you.”

You nodded, too cock drunk to say anything besides, “Yesyesyes.”

He was rolling your hips now, practically rutting into you as he lifted his head from your chest, leaving a trail of spit. You leaned down and let his lips ghost over yours. Moans slipped from your mouth into his, and he was bouncing you on his cock so fast you almost couldn’t register to breathe. His breath was hot against your lips, so close he could feel his body shaking, but he needed you to be closer, needed to feel you tightened around him and milk him for everything he was worth.

Snaking a hand between your bodies, he found your clit easily, knowing your body better than anyone ever had. All you could hear in that moment was the sound of the ocean through your screen door and skin slapping against skin. You were so wet and warm and – shit, you were starting to clench around him. He rolled your clit between two fingers, and a whimper slipped out of his mouth when he felt your pussy clamp around his throbbing cock.

He needed to cum and so did you and – fuck, he could feel it, feel you, feel how deep he was inside.

He would do this forever if you asked.

“Fuck, Mingyu, oh my god, right there, right there –” You pleaded in his ear, feeling yourself tip right over that edge –

Then you were cumming.

And so was he.

You moaned his name like it was a prayer, shattering as you came undone. Your walls were squeezing him like a vice, and he was unable to hold himself back anymore, burying himself to the hilt before painting your insides white with his orgasm. Hips jerked, bodies went taunt. You felt your whole being dissolve into nothing but pleasure, molding yourself to him in his arms. When the rush of warmth started to fade and he felt your combined releases seep from between your thighs, he breathed out a sigh of relief, brushing kisses over your jaw.

You weren’t sure you were in your right mind. Everything was so hazy. But you didn’t want to move away just yet. Even when his cock started to go soft inside of you, you stayed connected to him, pushing his hair back from his forehead and whispering praises in his ear like, “You were so good … So good to me … My Mingyu … I’ve always been yours …” You could feel him smiling against your skin, his hands tracing circles on your lower back.

But as time seemed to stop and you felt peace for the first time in a while, you realized just how deep you had fallen. You were drowning in him.

Mingyu had wanted to tell you that it felt exactly like his dreams. If you were drowning in him, he had already sunk to the bottom a long time ago.

Save the Date for the wedding of Nathan Chaney and Your Mother: September 5th

Your mother was remarrying. Her and Nathan had been together since you went off to college, and then got engaged just a year after you graduated. They decided on a long engagement, choosing to plan out a destination wedding in the Caribbean. You thought it was crazy at first, but then your mother said, “If this is going to be my last wedding – and it is – I want to go out with a bang.” You couldn’t exactly blame her. After your dad had cheated and the divorce was finalized, you knew your mother deserved something like this. She deserved the world.

When she had called you just a week before the wedding, babbling on about who you were possibly bringing now that your ex was completely out of the picture, you paused. Holding the phone to your ear and watering one of your half-dead plants with the other, you said, “I’m … I’m going with Mingyu.”

“Vernon?” She asked, not believing what you said.

“Mingyu.”

“Like … the Mingyu from university? The football player?”

You sighed, playing with the dead leaves on the plant. “He was also – and still is – one of Vernon’s good friends.”

“Oh,” your mother said, more surprised than anything. “Well, you better watch for Nathan’s sister. If Mingyu looks anything like how I remember from Family Day, she will go buck wild over him.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” you chuckled.

The truth was … you weren’t exactly sure how this wedding was going to go. Ever since the last one, you had been progressively putting more distance between you and Mingyu. Once again. Your last night together had been so real … too real, and you wanted to save yourself from the heartbreak after this wedding when you never saw him again. As much as you hated to admit it, feelings were now involved, seeping into your bloodstream, until your heart thrummed like the sound of his name on your tongue. 

Slowly pushing him away … it hurt, but it was better this way. Pain was temporary and so was your arrangement. You knew that going into it, so how did you end up in this mess? You remembered what had happened after Chan’s wedding, the way Mingyu looked at you as he was shotgunning smoke into your mouth and – yeah, you knew exactly how you ended up here.

If you kept telling yourself this was for the better, maybe you’d start believing it. Maybe your feelings would drift like smoke and your mother’s wedding would be a final farewell before you two went your separate ways.

But you had been doing that for a month now.

And those feelings refused to fade.

You had an early morning flight the day of your mother’s wedding. Typically, you wouldn’t be getting to a destination wedding on such short notice, but the ceremony was small. So small your mother refused to have a rehearsal dinner and no bridal party. It was about her and Nathan, and you had to respect that she was doing things her way this time around.

You had waited at your gate right before doors closed for Mingyu, since you were on the same flight. But he was clearly running late and you were much too awkward around him now to text him. So you finally got on the plane and found your seat, noticing the one seat in the back still left unoccupied. Once you had landed five hours later, you quickly headed to the hotel that Nathan had booked for the ceremony and reception. Your phone lit up as you hailed a ride.

Mingyu: I’m sorry, I got a new flight 

Mingyu: I’ll be there just 2 hours after you land

Mingyu: I’ll make it for the ceremony. I promise

Feeling his anxiety radiate through your phone, you believed him, and then wondered if maybe this was a blessing in disguise. You were rewarded a few more hours of alone time before you had your last hurrah with Mingyu. Maybe if you buried your feelings deep enough, you wouldn’t tense up the second you saw his face. Maybe if you didn’t look into his eyes, you wouldn’t have the urge to kiss him. Or let him hold your hand. Or spread your legs to welcome him inside –

You dropped your lipgloss onto the bathroom counter, sick of your own thoughts. Your  square-neck, baby blue dress was clinging to every curve, but you felt like you were being suffocated by the fabric. You had just finished doing your hair and makeup, but you couldn’t quite keep your thoughts at bay. Nerves batted against your skull, making your hands shake slightly. What would you do once Mingyu walked in? Would you avoid his stare? Would you tell him immediately how much you liked him and how this wouldn’t work out and you knew you set yourself up for heartbreak –

Maybe you needed a walk.

Grabbing a spare pair of sandals, you headed outside to walk the beach just along the grounds of the hotel. There was still an hour before the ceremony, and you could just see the planners putting finishing touches on the decorations laid out on the shore, where your mother wanted it to take place. Couples were still walking through the water. Kids were making sand castles. The sun was slowly beginning to set and the breeze was whipping your hair off your shoulders.

And you smiled, despite everything you were feeling. Because where there was an end, there would always be a new beginning.

“HEY!”

You spun around, your sandals sinking into the sand. Although you recognized his voice, the last thing you expected to see was Kim Mingyu running towards you in his pristine black tux, his tie loose around his neck and blowing in the breeze. It was like something out of a movie, the kind of movie where there was supposed to be a happy ending, but you knew you weren’t afforded luck like that in real life.

He stopped in front of you, running a hand through his hair. Sand sprinkled down the tops of his shoes.

“When did you get here?” You raised a brow.

“About twenty minutes ago. I flew in my tux because I figured I wouldn’t have enough time to change. But now it just kind of smells like …” He lifted the sleeve to his nose and inhaled. “Like peanuts and old plastic.”

You giggled, holding a hand to your mouth and just … staring at him. He was smiling at you, fangs poking out from under his top lip. His skin was even prettier in the sunset. His hair, despite the messy texture, was effortless and perfect. He embodied sunshine in its purest form.

“Well, you …” You looked to the water, your hands flexing at your sides. “You didn’t need to come find me out here.”

His voice was sweet, soft, like fresh sheets, when he replied, “Yes, I did.” His hand reached out a little, attempting to lace your fingers together, but he stuffed them in his pockets instead. “When I was wondering where you’d be, I remembered something you said to me in college … Do you remember Move-In Day of junior year when we had that bonfire with Vernon and a few other people? You really didn’t enjoy my company back then, but I sat next to you because you agreed to sharing that god awful cheap vodka we used to like.” He laughed when you grimaced. “We got to talking and I asked you, ‘If you could be anywhere right now, where would you be?’ And you said something like, ‘I want to be walking on a beach. I’ve always felt the most calm with my toes in wet sand.’”

You blinked, wondering if you had heard him right. He … how did he … “You remember that?”

“I remember a lot of things.”

And there he was, reaching out again and brave enough to brush his fingers over your knuckles. You looked down, watching his hand interlock with yours, and his palms were balmy and calloused. They felt familiar, like home. And you simply couldn’t believe that you had deprived yourself of this.

“Did you mean it when you said, ‘I’ve always been yours?’”

Your head snapped up, tsking under your breath. Hand still intertwined with his, you pushed a lock of hair behind your ear. “You came all the way out here to ask me that?” You asked, flustered and agitated.

His brow shot up. “So that’s a yes then?” 

Your mouth opened, but then closed when you realized that he caught you. 

He added, his voice like velvet again, “Then why are you avoiding me? I can sense it.”

“Well, if you’re that sensitive to other people’s feelings than I guess that –” You paused, taking a deep breath as you gathered yourself. Your ears reddened. “Look, I think it’s pretty obvious that I’ve … I like you. A lot. But having feelings for you would be so messy. The last time I went through this, we hooked up and you hardly spoke to me after.”

Mingyu’s brow furrowed. “That was years ago.”

“You know how uncommitted you’ve always been,” you quickly remarked, even though you didn’t fully believe those words anymore. “Weren’t you the one that told me at the start of this that men never really grow up?”

His eyes narrowed a little. “Are you playing psychological warfare with me right now?”

Slipping your fingers away from his, you shrugged. “Maybe.”

“I’ve been your date to five weddings this year. It wasn’t just about losing some bet. I did it for you.” He stared at you incredulously. “Are you really going to hold me to a mistake I made six years ago? When I was a shitty 22-year-old that was terrified to tell the girl I liked for years that I was interested in her?”

“I never … I never thought you liked me back then.”

Mingyu’s gaze softened, and he tucked another curl behind your ear that blew in the wind. “I made you believe that I didn’t because it was easier than admitting my feelings. I was terrified of rejection. And an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but snort at his comment, but you knew this conversation was far from over. “Well, I …” You rubbed at your nose and turned away from him, facing the water that looked almost sapphire in color. The waves sparkled under the setting sun. “Wedding season is over after this and we can both go back to our normal lives. Vernon won’t flip a lid when he sees me texting you all the time and everything will be back to the way it was. I always prepared for you to just forget about me after this anyway.”

“I love Vernon, but this isn’t about him.” Mingyu stepped forward into your line of vision. “What if I don’t want to go back to the way things were?”

Your eyes flickered to his, and it was his turn to step closer again. His large palm cupped your cheek, his skin always so cozy and inviting that you just had to lean into him. Fingertips traced your brow bone as his gaze lingered on your lips.

“I don’t want to forget about you or never see you again. I want to be around you,” he confessed. “I … want to go on more dates with you. I want to be your date to more than just weddings.”

You hesitated, unraveling and dissecting each word in your head, before you came to the conclusion that … oh, my god, he had feelings for you too. Had you always been this much of an absolute moron?

Getting on your tiptoes, you closed the distance between you two, your lips crashing onto his like the water against the shoreline. Your body almost suctioned to his, bringing him even closer when your arms wound around his neck. He kept that one hand on your cheek, the other splaying on your lower back, like how he always did when he was nervous. But he had nothing to be nervous about, because you liked him and he liked you. The world felt like it was spinning, but also just right, and his tongue was licking into your mouth enough to make you feel breathless. You could do this forever, be this relaxed in his arms, kiss him as if it was only you two in your own world. And as he tugged on your bottom lip to make your breathing heavy, you decided that your dream had become a reality.

When you broke the kiss, your cheeks were definitely flushed, even under the layer of blush you put on. Mingyu grinned, tilting his head as he whispered, “So you have always been mine then?”

“Such a tease sometimes,” you repeated his fateful words from June. 

You turned, tugging on his hand playfully as the waves begin to lick at the sand near your feet. “C’mon,” you chuckled. “If we’re late to this wedding, my mom will kill me before I can even think about calling you my boyfriend.”

Mingyu had wanted to ask you to marry him only two years later, and thank god, he finally found the words.

tag list: @syluslittlecrows @yeosayang @eisaspresso @healingmv @nightshadeblooming @dmstoyangyang @amaraeofsunshine @thepoopdokyeomtouched @reiofsuns2001 @tigerhoshii @yoongznme @nerdycheol @gyuguys @ninixgyu4eva @tokitosun @wooyugta @dawn-iscozy @thecowboy7 @wonu-won @whoisbaek15 @alexie-blog

[fullyconsciouswonwoo]

hi bestie its me. i need mingyu so bad like sobbin on it, ya feel? thanks for letting me hit it in my mind palace, i will be returning but you already knew that xoxo

uhhhhhh cock

[woncheolisms]

more than once. (yoon jeonghan x reader)

There’s a guy on campus who girls go to for stress relief. Sleazy bastard, but he obviously knows what he’s doing. When everything becomes too stressful for you, you decide you wanna do the same. Just a one time thing. Meaningless sex.

You never banked on him getting attached to you.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: college au, physiotherapy student!jeonghan, medical student!reader, reader is an overthinker and tends to spiral, fuck boy!jeonghan, pussy drunk!jeonghan, smut, nsfw, multiple orgasms, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, semi (?) public sex, both of them are horny as fuck

masterlist

Some part of you wishes you had stayed illiterate all your life. It’s the same part that loathes the thought of early morning classes, endless labs, assignments and presentations. Clinic hours. Procedure logbooks. Fuck, it’s just neverending. At any given point in time, you have at least six different things going on, all of them top most priority. Which isn’t possible. The top most priority can only ever be one thing. That’s what the word ‘priority’ means. You can’t have six priorities, it isn’t possible-

“Do you have a copy of tomorrow’s case for discussion?” Jihyo sounds like she’s about ready to cry. Not surprising to you at all, because you’re the same right now. You blink at your laptop screen a few times, trying to get out of your own head. Long, rambling thoughts have always been your biggest vice. And you do it even more when you’re stressed.

You grab a sheet of paper on your bed next to you and lean over the side of it, meeting Jihyo halfway from her own bed.

“Thanks.” She mumbles, looking down at the sheet. She reads it over once, twice, then one more time, before her distraught eyes meet yours.

“What’s the diagnosis?”

You shrug.

Jihyo nearly wails, scratching at her head. “I can’t do this shit. God, I’m going to kill someone.”

You can’t even laugh. You’re too stuck on the presentation open on your own laptop, trying to make the font small enough to fit everything on it, but not so small that it can’t be seen. It’s proving to be way more difficult than you thought.

“Come on. We’re going to grab dinner.” She swings her legs over the bed, ignoring the many papers scattered around her as they wrinkle under the movement. You don’t even question it, clicking ‘Save’ on the presentation a comical number of times to make sure you won’t lose it, then following Jihyo’s footsteps.

It’s colder outside than you anticipated, but it still feels nice. The goosebumps on your skin wake you up a bit, which you desperately need after the fog you’ve been under for the last few hours. Realistically, you know that neither you nor Jihyo can afford to take time off. But enough is enough. You need a break, even if it means you will crash and burn tomorrow.

The campus dorms are separate from the actual university, located across the road from it and scattered over a large area. Every building is more wide than it is tall, only three stories but sprawling over a large area. Medicine, Dentistry, Nursing and Physiotherapy. The backbone of the future healthcare system. When you walk past the park, there’s a small bonfire going on, surrounded by many cheering students egging on three guys holding kegs.

Yup, backbone of the future healthcare system.

Right outside the gated walls of the dorms are many places to eat, catered especially for the thousands of students beside them. You and Jihyo are standing on the sidewalk, wondering what you are in the mood for eating, when a familiar face catches your eye.

“Can’t work either?” Mina smiles, giving you both hugs. Jihyo pouts and shakes her head.

“Do you know the diagnosis for tomorrow’s case?”

Their voices fade as they continue to talk, and you stare off into space. One half of your brain is wondering if you want pizza or something Chinese. The other part is contemplating cutting some info from your presentation so you can fit it on the slide. Someone nudges you, and when you blink back to the present, both Jihyo and Mina are looking at you.

“What’s up with you?” Mina asks.

“Nothing.” You reply almost automatically.

Jihyo huffs and rolls her eyes. “She’s been like this for days, just checking out.”

Mina frowns. “That’s not like you at all.”

“Sorry.” You sigh. “I’m just stressed.”

“You need to take more breaks.”

“Doesn’t help.” Jihyo has her arms crossed and she’s shaking her head. “She’s still thinking of work. I guarantee you she’s thinking about that presentation she has due tomorrow. Aren’t you?”

Caught red handed. You feel your face grow warm and you pout. “…… No.”

Jihyo snorts and Mina laughs a little. You sigh defeatedly.

“Can we just eat?”

The three of you end up at the first place you can see, a small diner where you order burgers, fries and milkshakes. Any food that’s greasy enough to take your mind off the mountains of stuff you have left unfinished. Mina watches you closely as you stare out the window.

“You need to relieve stress.” She says. You hum noncommittally.

“Thanks for the suggestion. I never would’ve known I had to do that.”

Jihyo snorts and elbows you. Mina doesn’t seem fazed.

“I have a solution, but I don’t think our goody little princess will take it.”

That gets your attention. You’ve always hated being perceived as that. Sure, you’re mostly a homebody. You don’t like attending parties too much unless you know a lot of people there, which is almost never. You like spending most of your time in front of a screen, and you’re not very athletic either. You haven’t had anything remotely romantic since university started, even though all your friends have indulged in hookups. And because of all this, since the start of university, you’ve been branded as the kind of risk averse girl who doesn’t really enjoy anything fun. You know it’s all in jest. Your friends love you very much. But it still irritates you.

“What is it?” You ask. You know she’s baiting you, but you want to know anyway.

“There’s this guy in DPT,” she begins, “Totally flaky. Kind of full of himself. But he’s amazing in bed.”

Jihyo’s already in a fit of giggles. She obviously knows who Mina is talking about. You frown.

“Okay. So?”

Mina leans forward, her elbows on the table. “He jokingly put an ad up on the university Facebook group a while ago. Offering….. services…… to any girl that’s interested. It got taken down almost immediately but apparently it actually became a thing, because I’ve heard a lot of girls say he’s always down to hook up as stress relief if you ask.”

By this point, your mouth has dropped open in shock and a small amount of disgust. Both Jihyo and Mina have stupid grins on their faces.

“So he’s a glorified prostitute.”

Mina gasps “He is not! He’s a good guy, actually. A little sleazy but, aren’t all college guys like that? Also, it’s not like he’s asking for payment.”

You gawk at her. “Oh my god, you too?”

She holds her hands up in defense. “Anatomy was really difficult last year, okay?”

You groan and lean down, forehead hitting the table with a dull thunk. Jihyo laughs.

“Thank you for the suggestion.” You give Mina a withering look. “But I’m fine.”

Mina shrugs. “I’m just saying, he's really good. And he’d probably blow your virgin mind.”

Your face flames. “I’m not a virgin.”

“Eight second sex doesn’t count.”

Jihyo is nearly doubled over, face red with laughter. You thank every god in the universe when your food finally arrives.

Mina is wrong, objectively. You aren’t a virgin. In fact, you had a boyfriend in high school. You took each other’s virginities. Of course he came in eight seconds, it was his first time. The fact that you never had sex again and he broke up with you a month afterwards didn’t change anything. You are not a virgin.

No one says anything to you after that day, but the thought annoyingly lingers. You cannot believe a guy would just do that. And even more shocking that girls would agree to hook up with someone who has a reputation like that. Another notion plagues you: how good is he in bed to even have all these girls keep coming to him?

Fuck. These are dangerous thoughts. Especially for someone like you, who can spiral in your mind so easily. And almost like sugar on top, with every passing day, work keeps ramping up. You retreat farther and farther in your mind, thoughts racing and contorting from one shape to another, taking up lives of their own, and before you know it, you’re wondering. What if you were to hook up with this guy too?

In every sense of the word, you are stressed. You don’t know what he does, but it clearly works. Maybe you can take just one night and instead of stuffing your face with greasy food as an outlet, you can have sex. It sounds like an intriguing option.

Maybe it will shut your friends up about you being a prude.

Tracking DPT people isn’t easy as someone in Medicine, and especially as someone in Medicine who doesn’t know more than four people and would rather set herself on fire than talk to new faces. Luckily, those four friends of yours are insanely well connected. There’s no way in hell you’re asking Mina. You won’t give her that satisfaction. So when you call Mingyu about what Mina told you, he has a name for you immediately.

“Yoon Jeonghan.” He says over the phone. Behind him, you can hear a lot of talking and laughing. He’s likely at a party. On a weekday. Figures. “Really cool guy. I’ll send you his number.”

“That would be great.” You reply.

“Y/N, are you sure about this?”

You immediately go rigid. “Why? Is he suspicious?”

There’s a small silence before Mingyu snorts. “You know what, this is good. You need this. Desperately.”

You don’t like his implication, so you just hang up. He sends you Jeonghan’s number mere minutes later, and you reply with a middle finger emoji. He only sends you kissy faces back.

Once you click on Jeonghan’s number and stare at the blank text box, you’re at a loss. What do you even say to him? How do these things go? You really don’t want to ask Mingyu again. He already thinks you’re a loser (affectionately).

You end up sending a small text introducing yourself and telling him which department you are from. He replies around ten minutes later.

[yoon jeonghan]: what can I do for you?

Now you’re at a true loss. What do you say? You type and erase, type and erase for many agonising minutes. Then, another text comes up.

[yoon jeonghan]: im in B wing. DPT. last door on the second floor.

You blink a few times, staring at his text. Fuck, he knows. You feel a little embarrassed, but you think this is more of a reflection of him than it is of you, so you just shut your phone and scramble to get dressed.

Half an hour later, you’re climbing the steps of an unfamiliar building across campus, feeling nervous and jumpy. Your eyes dart around your new surroundings rapidly, but no one is really wandering around. It’s a weekday, so there’s not much activity. The corridors are easy enough to navigate, and you find the room at the end of the hallway very quickly. You shake your hands out, breaths coming irregularly. This is so out of left field for you, and half your mind can’t even process that you would do something so impulsive. You’re not this person at all. But what can you say? Medical school hath changed you.

You knock on the door so quietly that you immediately wonder if you should knock again. He probably didn’t hear it. You’re just thinking of doing it again when the door swings open, catching you off guard. You freeze.

He’s tall, and kind of skinny looking in his oversized t-shirt. But he has this gorgeous, jet black hair that falls down the sides of his face in effortless waves. Hell, it looks even better than your hair freshly out of the salon. He has pretty, almond eyes, a thin nose bridge, and lips so plump that you immediately wonder what they would feel like.

Okay. You get the appeal now.

“You must be Y/N.”

Your head jerks with a nod. “Jeonghan?”

He smiles, and it nearly takes your breath away. God, he’s painfully attractive. He looks you up and down in a way that makes you want to turn around and book it immediately.

“In the flesh. Come in, sweetheart.”

You can feel the back of your neck burn hot at the petname. No one has ever called you that. You step in hesitantly, looking around. It’s a cubicle, with a single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. Lucky him, he doesn’t have to share with a roommate. You don’t know anyone in the Medicine building who has a single room. Damn physiotherapy people and their many perks.

It’s surprisingly neat. There’s a gaming setup on the desk, a lot of wires, but they’re all stacked neatly. There’s a few books on the side tables and on the floor next to the desk. The bed is made. There’s some posters on the walls. The room has a lot of character. It catches you a little off guard. You don’t know what you were expecting. Maybe a shady dungeon with chains and a mattress as hard as stone.

Jeonghan watches you expectantly. You fidget.

“I- I heard… I mean, someone told me. About- about you.”

He hums, and you can see the amusement on his face, the corner of his lip ticked up just a little bit. You wish the ground could swallow you whole. He huffs out a laugh.

“Should’ve known you’d be shy. You couldn’t even say it over text.”

Your face burns more. You avoid his eyes. When he walks closer, your heart races. You nearly jump away in shock when he leans down, nosing at your hair, brushing over your neck.

“Should we loosen you up a bit?”

Your heart is beating so fast it makes you a little dizzy. He smells really good up close. Fragrant aftershave and something like pine. Your mouth drops open when his lips press to the skin below your ear.

“Yes?” He whispers.

“Yes.” You breathe.

Your consent is all he needs, large hands brushing over your hips before moving up to grip your sides. He presses more kisses over your neck, then up your jaw. Something twinges in your lower stomach, making your insides clench. Your heart is pounding so loud you are scared he will feel it through your rib cage. He keeps traveling up, until his lips brush the corner of your mouth. You turn your head with an instinct that surprises even you, and he hums in approval.

That first kiss makes your knees buckle. Luckily, his hands are giving you enough support to keep you from collapsing. It’s languid, like he’s taking his time with you, and yes, his lips are just as soft as you imagined. His nose nudges yours, making you tilt your head and deepen the kiss. You can’t help your moan, hands fisting his shirt. You can feel his smile on your lips.

When he pulls away, you have to blink furiously to compose yourself. He watches you closely, like he’s trying to figure you out. But you should be the one doing that, if your brain wasn’t completely scrambled right now. You need him to kiss you again, so you lean up on your tiptoes towards him. He chuckles.

The second kiss is even more charged, though you didn’t think that was possible. His tongue comes out to play this time, and you arch into him at the feeling. His hands have become more daring too, exploring your body. He squeezes your ass a little, digs into the plush of your hips. He fiddles with your shirt until he’s coaxing you to put your arms up, pulling it off you. You feel shy suddenly, but he doesn’t seem to notice, going back to kissing you, and his lips wipe away any hesitation that you might have.

He plays with the clasp of your bra a bit, running his fingers over the straps. It sends shivers up your spine. He finally undoes it and pulls it off. He disconnects your lips enough to look down at your chest, whistling low.

“Pretty.” He says. You flush hard, tugging at his own shirt.

When Jeonghan pulls it off, you’re a little surprised. He’s not nearly as skinny as he looks when he’s swimming in his loose clothes. He’s lean, nicely carved muscle, just enough meat on him to feel good when your hands begin exploring. He lets you, doesn’t even flinch when you run your fingers over his abs. Your eyes dart further down, and you can see his erection over his sweatpants. You bite your lip.

“How do you want me, pretty?” He asks, lips running lazily over your shoulder. You flush.

“I- I don’t know.”

He pulls away at that a little, looking at you curiously. “You have done this before, right?”

You scowl. “Of course I have!”

“Okay.” He placates you, hands running up and down your bare sides. “So how do you want it? I can eat you out. Or do you just wanna fuck?”

Well, shit. You didn’t expect him to say all that. You’re caught off guard by how vulgar his words are, by how hot he sounds talking like this. Like it’s nothing. Fuck, you’ve never been eaten out before. Are you even ready for something like that? But then again, from what you can see as you look nervously down at his bulge, he’s not exactly small. Mina was right. Eight second sex really doesn’t count. There’s no way you can take all of this.

Jeonghan laughs lightly as he follows your gaze before humming and nodding. He goes back to kissing your shoulder and neck.

“I’ve got you. Just relax.”

That’s exactly what you’re struggling to do, but you don’t tell him that. He walks you both backward until you’re pushing yourself up the mattress to the head of the bed, him on top of you. His fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans and panties before pulling both of them down in one go. You flush at the thought of being completely naked now, his eyes running over you. There’s a heat in them that you didn’t expect, but welcome it regardless. It really does look like he wants you. You don’t know how much of it is an act, or if he really thinks you’re worth looking at like this.

He kisses over your ankle before traveling up slowly, laying his lips on your skin every few beats until he reaches the apex of your thighs. This is entirely new territory for you. Even the thought of a guy down there is mortifying, so yes, maybe your friends aren’t too far off in their assumptions of you. It’s so hot in theory, but here, now, in practice, you’re so nervous it makes every muscle in your body stiffen. Maybe this it too-

You yelp when you feel it, his lips brushing over your slit. Jeonghan is taken aback, pulling away and blinking up at you from between your legs. It’s a strange sight, strange enough to knock you out of your thoughts. He breathes out a laugh.

“Either you’re very distracted, or you really haven’t done this before.”

You peer down at him, held up by your elbows so you can look properly. You hesitate before sighing.

“I haven’t.” You mumble, but you’re quick to clarify. “I didn’t lie. I’ve- I’ve had sex. But no one’s ever….. I’ve never had-”

“Well that’s a shame.” Jeonghan mumbles. He runs his hands over your inner thighs, slow strokes that loosen your muscles a little bit. He thumbs at your outer lips and you flush deeply, but it’s nothing compared to what he says next.

“Anyone who got close enough to have sex with you but didn’t eat out your pretty pussy must’ve been a real asshole.”

He kisses your folds, sucking on them a little. Your mouth drops and your elbows give out, back hitting the mattress. God, this is way hotter than it needs to be. He’s probably just saying all this to make you relax a little and get it over with. You feel something hot, wet and alive run over your lips again before dipping inside, lazily licking over where you’re most sensitive. He tongues at your clit until you let out your first moan. His grip on your thighs, holding you open, tightens.

“That’s it.” He whispers. “Just relax.”

Never in a million years did you think head would feel this good, but Jeonghan shatters all your illusions. He’s so meticulous, discovering parts of you that you didn’t even know could feel good when stimulated. He has no shame about it either. He moans into you when you try to close your legs around his head, or when your fingers thread through his hair. His tongue dips inside you too, swirling, before pulling out and licking upward so he can suck on your clit some more. You get close to your high embarrassingly quickly, and you’re nearly crying when you warn him about it. He only keeps going, consistent in his pace, until you’re jerking and shuddering, cumming hard in his mouth. He doesn’t slow until you’re desperately pushing him away, overstimulated.

“Fuck.” His voice is raspy, ragged. His face is drenched. You can see, even through your teary vision, that his pupils are dilated. “That was so hot, the way you came on my tongue.”

You flush, not knowing what to say. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You jerk back when Jeonghan’s thumb runs over your abused clit. He smirks.

“You gotta do that again for me, pretty. I need to feel that again. On my fingers this time.”

He’s leaning over you before you can even process his words. He presses his forehead to yours, and you feel something prod at your entrance.

“Oh, fuck.” You arch when a solitary finger slips inside you. You’re definitely wet enough, between your orgasm and his spit, so there’s next to no resistance. Jeonghan watches you closely, too closely. You try to turn your head, feeling shy, and he only chuckles, curling his finger inside you. You shriek when something zips through your core.

“Found it.” He grins. It’s so sleazy but so hot. God, is this why your girls are lining up for him?

He sinks another finger inside you before curling it up to the same spot, and this time, you see stars. You writhe and tremble under him, feeling so full with just this. He fucks the soul out of you with his fingers, moving rapidly while his thumb rubs over your clit. The noises turn wetter, sloppier, and Jeonghan bites his bottom lip as he watches you fall apart under him.

Your second orgasm is quicker but even more intense, leaving you near speechless. You can’t even make a sound, mouth open in a silent cry as you feel blood rush roar in your ears. You seize and shudder so much it feels almost animalistic. He doesn’t seem to mind at all.

“Jeonghan.” You weep, grabbing his wrist when it’s too much. Well, it was too much from the minute he put his mouth on you, but two orgasms in, you genuinely feel like you’re about to faint.

“My name sounds so sweet from your lips, pretty.” He says. He keeps calling you that, and it makes your heart race a little. You just turn your head to the side. You’re too bashful to even look at him. He lays a soft kiss on your cheek.

“You want more?”

The thought of more makes your heartbeat pick up again. You turn back to him a little, nose nudging against his. He knows he has your attention. He smirks.

“Come on, tell me. You want my cock?”

Your pussy clenches. You bite your lower lip. Jeonghan thumbs at it, releasing it from your teeth. You nod timidly. He chuckles again.

“Gotta do better than that, pretty. Ask for it like a good girl.”

The thought of saying it out loud lights your face on fire. Your hands fist the sheets, and you feel so nervous. Jeonghan watches you closely in that unnerving way of his. Then, he pushes down, and you feel his hard on press into your cunt, right between your spread legs. Your jaw goes slack.

He wastes no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and filthy, all tongues and teeth, and he grinds slowly into you, over and over. He’s hard as a rock, throbbing even through the thin material of his pants. You clench pathetically around nothing. You can’t take it anymore.

“Want your cock.” You whine into his mouth. “Please fuck me.”

Jeonghan giggles, honest to god giggles, into the kiss. “So polite. How can I say no?”

When he finally shucks off his pants, your head spins a bit. He’s way bigger than your ex, longer, and he curves just at the tip in a way that you know will feel so good when he slides into you. There’s a large, pulsing vein running up the underside that makes your mouth water a little bit. Never before have you felt the urge to suck a dick until now.

A lot of firsts happening today.

Jeonghan’s eyes are locked on yours as he pumps himself, long fingers wrapped gracefully around his shaft. You watch him with a look of fascination that amuses him, you can see it on his face. He dips his fingers inside you again and you jerk a little. When he pulls out, they’re wet and sticky. He runs them over his cock. You’re shell shocked at his brazen action, and he smirks. Is he just doing all this to see how far he can push you?

When he finally sinks into you, every single thought in your head goes blank. All that incessant thinking and worrying for so many months becomes muted until there’s nothing but static, and the beat of your own heart. You can’t process it, can barely breathe through it. He stretches you like he’s carving a path for himself, dragging over your walls. By the time he sinks all the way to the base, you feel like you can feel him in your throat.

“Holy shit.” He curses, and you see his face crumple in real time, the first sign of his composure breaking. You can’t even moan. You have no air in your lungs.

“You sure you’re not a virgin, pretty? So tight, squeezing the life out of me.” His voice cracks at the end, and he bites his bottom lip hard.

“Move.” You manage to gasp out, hips jerking. He chuckles.

“Hold on. I don’t wanna cum too quick.”

Now that gives you PTSD. Jeonghan takes a few deep breaths, his chest rising and falling. He toys with your clit, like he’s trying to get you to relax around him a bit. Finally, he pulls out and thrusts back in, hard. Any air you may have finally breathed, he knocks right back out.

He sets a fast pace from the start, thrusts hard and deep inside you. You barely have the chance to miss him before the head of is dick is pressing into your sweet spot again, stroking it with even more force than his fingers previously had. You feel so full, like you’re ready to explode just from the force of the pounding you’re taking. You claw at the sheets, and when that isn’t enough, you claw at his arms that frame both sides of your head. His eyes move between your face and your pussy, watching you swallow him greedily, over and over again.

“Jesus, where have you been hiding?” He chokes out. “Can’t believe I missed out on this cunt for so long.”

“God.” You whine, eyes teary. “Don’t stop.”

He shakes his head and grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby. Not until I milk all that stress out of you.”

Frankly, you can’t even remember what you were stressed about. You can barely string two words together except a mantra of Jeonghan’s name over and over. Your orgasm is no surprise, body locking and cumming hard around him, walls fluttering desperately as you cry and gasp through it. Jeonghan groans long and low, eyes squeezing shut before his thrusts turn sloppy. It takes a few more hard slams of his pelvis into yours before he’s pulling out and shooting ropes of his cum all over your stomach. He pumps himself through it, breathing hard, and you can see his shoulders shake, glistening with sweat.

What a sight.

The come down is dizzying. Jeonghan pulls his clothes on quickly before he grabs a towel and leaves the room, coming back with it wet enough for you to wipe yourself with it. You feel awkward as you dress yourself again. Jeonghan flops down on the bed with a tired sigh. You shift on your feet when you’re done.

“I’ll- I’ll go.”

A slow smile spreads on his face. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”

You shake your head and frown. “I’m not. I just don’t know what to say.”

He laughs, nodding. Just before you turn to leave, he gives you a wink.

“Text me any time.”

…………………………………….

Jeonghan’s stress relief programme works wonders for you.

You spend the next week practically buzzing. Your body is a little sore, not enough to actually notice, but enough to keep you alert. The night you come back from his room, you manage to crank out every assignment due in the week because you’re so desperate to not let your mind wander to what you just did. The next day, you get started on work from the coming week. Jihyo is so surprised when she asks you for help and you send her notes that are neat and well compiled.

“Are you taking something?” She narrows her eyes at you. “Ritalin?”

You roll your eyes. “Just say thank you.”

She grumbles out a ‘thanks’. You can’t tell her about Jeonghan. You just don’t have it in you to share that. Your night with him was beyond anything you had experienced before. You know it was casual. You’re sure you would never see him again. So you dont want to make it a big deal by talking about it.

Except, you run into him organically soon after this.

A week and a half later, on a Friday night, you are lounging in bed with a textbook. You’re almost caught up with work, enough that you can take a breather and do some light reading instead. Unfortunately, this gives Jihyo the perfect opportunity to drag you out of the room, claiming you have no excuse to stay home because you don’t have anything due. Dammit.

The party you end up at is outside the dorms at a house a few blocks away. You can’t tell who threw it, but there are a lot of Med and DPT people there. When you see Mingyu standing in the center of the room chugging a bottle, you roll your eyes.

“When does he even get time to study?” You mumble when Jihyo shoves a red cup in your hands. You sniff it and make a face. Disgusting.

“Dunno. But he manages just fine, so don’t worry about him. In fact, you need to shut your brain off for once.”

Before you can reply, she’s throwing her drink back and grabbing another, leading you farther into the room. Mingyu spots you two quickly, and it’s all chaos from there. He knows almost everyone, and he introduces you to people at lightning speed. You won’t remember any of them, but you just nod and smile along. When he reaches the couches in the living room, your heart skips.

“You know Jeonghan.” Mingyu grins, arm around your shoulder shaking you teasingly.

The man in question is sprawled over one corner of the long couch, and his eyes find yours almost immediately. He looks stunning even in the dim light. His hair is half up and half down, some of it falling over his eyes. He’s dressed in all black, and his leather jacket makes him look dangerously inviting. His eyes run over you in a way that makes you shiver. You should’ve worn something warmer. A crop top and skirt were not the way to go.

“What do you mean she knows him?” Jihyo frowns. You stiffen.

“He means I know of him. From what Mina told me.” You lie smoothly. Mingyu squeezes you a little in apology. Obviously he didn’t know you were keeping it a secret.

Jihyo really isn’t in the mood to slow down, because she throws back any alcohol she can get her hands on. This forces you to remain sober so you can take her back when the time is right. You’re so busy with her that you manage to steer clear of Jeonghan. The whole place is too loud, too overstimulating, that you have no time to think about him. Hours later, you’re tired and more than a little cranky when you finally manage to drag Jihyo out of the house. She’s stumbling a little, giggling at something completely normal that she finds exceedingly funny. You huff. How the hell are you going to do this?

“I have a car.” You hear a familiar voice. You don’t expect to see Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him all night except at the very beginning, so you assumed he left, probably with someone else. But he’s here now, hands buried in the pockets of his dark jeans. You are half inclined to say no, but just the thought of taking Jihyo back like this is enough to make you cry, so you simply nod.

Jeonghan brings the car around and helps you put Jihyo in the backseat, where she promptly falls asleep. You sit in the front with him, and you feel awkward all over again.

“You didn’t text me, pretty.” He says. You forgot how the nickname makes your face flush.

“I didn’t think you were serious.” You mumble. Jeonghan looks confused.

“About what?”

You sigh, hesitating a little. “I’m not really….. a casual hookup person. So I think it’s best if we stay away from each other.”

Jeonghan chuckles. “Damn, I’m getting broken up with.”

You try to shake your head but Jeonghan just brushes it off. He’s clearly joking. And it’s not like this means anything. So you don’t say anything more, hoping the uncomfortable air dissipates a bit. Thankfully, you aren’t far from the dorms at all. Jeonghan parks in front of Med and offers to help you take Jihyo up. You can’t say no even if you want to, since she’s fully dead weight now.

He’s great support in dragging her to the room. In fact, he does most of the heavy lifting, which you are grateful for. You dump Jihyo on her bed, pulling her shoes off and covering her with a blanket. She doesn’t as much as flinch. You straighten a little, sighing.

“Thank you.” You smile at him. He shrugs it off. You walk him to the door. When he puts his hand on the knob, he pauses.

“So, we’re really over?”

You blink, surprised. “We were never really a thing.”

“I know.” He hums, watching you with heated eyes. “But it was fun. Shame that it’s ending before it even properly began.”

You fidget a little, staring at your hands. Jeonghan steps closer, his fingers find your chin, tilting your head up.

“Can I get a goodnight kiss?”

You consider it a little before nodding. “Okay.”

One kiss won’t hurt. Except it’s not one kiss. Jeonghan deepens it the second your lips meet his. His hands run over your hips, over the sliver of skin between your skirt and your tiny top. You shiver, hands squeezing his biceps. His tongue slides into your mouth and you moan. The same heady feeling from that night comes back, the one that leaves you dumb and brainless with him. His tongue runs hungrily over yours. You clench around nothing.

“W-we should stop.” You manage to whimper into his mouth. He moans.

“Neither of us want that.”

He crowds you into the wall until you’re pressed between it and his chest. He kisses you harder, deeper, and you feel like you’re high on him, all consumed by him. He smells so fucking good it makes your head spin. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair and you tug harshly, and he seems to like that, because he groans into your mouth.

“You had to wear the tiniest little skirt, didn’t you?” He bites your bottom lip. “Wanted to bend you over right in the middle of that house.”

“You-” Your breath stutters. “You can’t say stuff like that.”

“Why?” Jeonghan pulls back enough to lick down your jaw and nibble at your neck. You arch into him. “Does it turn you on?”

You don’t want to tell him that yes, it does turn you on. The raw need he says he has for you is so foreign, but so welcome. Before you can say anything, Jeonghan pulls off your neck and sinks to his knees.

You gape at him, shocked. His hands are urgent, pushing your skirt up and hooking a hand under your knee so he can hook it over his shoulder.

“Jeonghan!” You hiss, but you can’t say a thing further. Your hand flies up to clamp over your mouth when he runs his tongue over your clothed core. He wastes no time in pulling your panties aside and tonguing right at your slit, finding your clit immediately to suck on it.

It’s so much all at once, an assault on the senses. You tremble, nearly losing your balance if it weren’t for Jeonghan’s hands holding you tight to him. He chases after you with his mouth when you try to jerk away. He laps at you like he’s starved for your taste. It feels so good that you can’t decide if you want to pull away (Jihyo is right there) or if him eating you out like this is a thrill you want to lean into. It feels so dirty, so all consuming. You buck into his mouth and his resulting moan is depraved. Your orgasm is fast approaching. You can’t stop it even if you try.

“Fuck, Jeong- Jeonghan-…. Hannie.”

You have to bite your hand to keep from crying out, your high tearing through you with the force of a car crash. You shake and shudder over him, his hands holding you up with a strength that surprises you. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining and pushing his head away, cleaning you up until you can feel his spit cooling on your skin.

He lets your leg down gently, soothing a hand over it and laying a kiss on your thigh before standing up. His hair is no longer tied up, messy around his head. He is soaked down his chin and to the column of his throat. Your cheeks flame, breaths still coming heavy. He lays a kiss on the heated skin.

“Thanks for the meal.”

You can’t even say anything before he’s kissing you one last time and quickly leaving. You blink harshly, wondering what the fuck just happened.

You find his hair tie on the floor the next morning.

………………………………..

You can’t stay away from Yoon Jeonghan. You tried once, and it ended with him on his knees in front of you, making you cum on his face. Since then, you’ve forgotten the amount of times he’s made you cum. On his tongue, on his fingers, and most gloriously, on his cock. He’s made you feel things you genuinely didn’t think were possible. He whispers into your ear such filthy words that you have a hard time even processing them. Says he’s ‘pussy drunk’. That he can’t live without his fill of you. So he finds you, once or twice a week, and he drags you back to his room because it guarantees privacy. Or he fucks you on your own bed when you know Jihyo is out for the night. Either way, he’s around you a lot more than you ever expected him to be.

Jeonghan is whip smart. You deduced that he was witty a long time ago, but he is a rare combination of book smart and street smart that you didn’t know even existed. You both have the same anatomy course, so you study together sometimes. Of course, he’s horny all throughout it, but if you make it interesting, he is more than willing to participate. His favourite is when you strip off one piece of clothing with every question he gets right. It always ends with sex, because everything with Jeonghan ends with sex, but it feels more charged like this, when he’s talking and laughing with you, that sweet little twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart race.

Jeonghan has an unhealthy obsession with fast food, which works out great for you since stress makes you crave greasy food too. You will often find yourselves in some fast food place outside campus, usually spicy fried chicken, late at night between studying and making assignments. He isn’t a big drinker, and neither are you, but you like sharing a beer with him sometimes. Jeonghan is just so comfortable in his own skin. He has no guilt or shame about anything he does, or any choice he has made. It contrasts with you, who always has ten different things playing in your head at one time, doubting, analysing, restructuring. He’s perceptive. He can tell when you’re about to spiral, letting out a disapproving little tut before tapping your forehead.

“Don’t fly away and leave me here alone.”

He says weird stuff like that.

It means nothing. It can’t. Jeonghan is notoriously a fuck boy. Everyone knows it. Hell, he advertised it in the university Facebook group once. What more is there to say? He likes sex, you like sex. You give it to each other. That’s it. Getting closer to him like this is the natural consequence of spending time together. There’s no deeper meaning here. But then you hear something, a floating rumor, and you almost can’t believe it.

“Didn’t know he was being picky.” Some girl who was having lunch on the same table as you said. You’re sure Mina told you her name when she introduced you guys, but you were, once again, lost deep in thought. You didn’t catch it. “He’s never rejected me before.”

Mina rolls her eyes. “He’s never rejected anyone before.”

“Miyoung says he hasn’t hooked up with any of her friends either. He’s been ignoring everyone’s calls or messages.”

You’re rock still as you stare at your plate. This can’t be true. You and Jeonghan are just…… messing around. Relieving stress. It’s not anything more. Before you can think, you’re pulling your phone out to text him.

[me]: where are you

The reply is instant.

[hannie]: dorm. u coming?

You reply with an affirmative, and half an hour later, you’re knocking on his door. He opens it with a lazy smile, hair tousled and shirt wrinkled. It seems he was still in bed. You’re mad at yourself that he looks even more attractive to you like this.

“Hi, pretty.” He hums, pulling you in and shutting the door, planting a kiss on your neck. He wraps his arms around you, hands already wandering under your shirt. You huff.

“I heard a rumor.”

“Hm?” He seems distracted, fingers dipping just a little in the waistband of your jeans. You plough forward.

“Some girls complaining that you have been dodging their calls.”

He snorts into your neck. His teeth dig teasingly into your skin. You push at his stomach a little, trying to put distance between you two.

“Jeonghan, are you only sleeping with me?”

He pulls off your neck briefly, but lays a kiss on your jaw instead. “Yeah.”

Now you really push him away. He takes the hint and detaches, but he looks confused.

“Why? Why aren’t you sleeping with other girls?”

His face twists into something more amused. “You know, it’s usually the other way around. Girls are mad when their boyfriends are sleeping with other girls.”

Your heart stutters at the statement. “You’re not my boyfriend.”

He pouts. “Hurtful. Are you sleeping with other guys?”

You balk at him. “No!”

“So you’re only sleeping with me, and I’m only sleeping with you.” He hums, looking thoughtful. He’s clearly being unserious. You don’t appreciate it. “Some people might say that we’re…… exclusive?”

“We’re not dating.” You say, dryly.

“We spend time together. We study together. We have sex. We talk to each other all the time either in person or over texts.” He’s listing things off on his fingers. You are growing more irritated with every point. He seems to notice, because he gives you one of those sweet smiles of his that make you melt. You try to hold strong.

“Okay, pretty. We’re not dating. But I would like to.” He grows more serious, stepping forward again to caress your sides.

“You like me?”

Jeonghan huffs, leaning forward so his forehead touches yours. “Darling, I’m obsessed with you.”

So many pet names. It’s always endless pet names with him. You love it. Your heart beats fast. You fiddle with his shirt.

“You really haven’t been with anyone since then?” You mumble.

Jeonghan’s lips brush on the corner of your mouth, an action laced with affection. “Only you. Can’t get enough of you. You drive me crazy.”

You giggle a bit. “Okay.”

“Hm?”

“Fine. I’ll date you.”

His smile is blinding. This time, his lips taste even sweeter against yours.

🏷️: @picheolin-17 , @lovelylonelinesssvt , @scarlettveemin , @shad0wcast , @iluvhosh , @littlebluhellfire , @jimzk , @lucis-noctiana , @hannieweee , @xh01bri , @ilseamamuchoamingyu , @bleudandelion , @huihye , @markoplolo , @moondustmemories , @kaitieskidmore97 , @hocidust , @missaoki , @cheolwoo , @isaltedcarameows , @huiimoon , @tranquillitysoul , @missingjeonghan , @weasleytwins-41 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @ateez-atiny380 , @piratekingateez2001 , @kpetts , @k4trinabluu , @sunnysidesins , @embrace-themagic , @okdenmepolinoiazei , @escoupsue , @h0neygloww , @hxsxxk-180294 , @wxnderingthoughts , @meanieislife , @jiminie-08 , @w0nw0es , @lostinfakescenarios , @secret1234505 , @lostminni , @redemptions , @haoxiaoba , @mortallyblueninja , @ray-of-sunshine , @junnhuisworld , @gojominn , @sunnysidesins , @peachy-writings

[woncheolisms]

sea salt. (lee chan x reader)

summary: one day, you’re buying a soft, brown fur coat from the thrift store. the next, you have a man on your doorstep claiming he’s your husband.

word count: 6.8k

warnings: selkie!dino, human!reader, references to scottish folklore but a very loose interpretation, swearing, reader is bitter, mildly depressed and very tired of life, chan is the cutest sweetest boy ever, questionable self preservation instincts, smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, kinda sub!chan, oral (fem!receiving), riding, slight nipple play.

a/n: so this was loosely based on an ask i got about selkie!dino, and i really did a lot of research on selkies and came up with a plot to go w it. im sure this isn’t what anon originally wanted, but i loved the idea of selkies and i went with it ㅠ

SELKIE (n.) — from icelandic, irish and scottish lore

⦾ shapeshifters. they live as seals or otters in the sea, but shed their skin or fur to change into beautiful humans on land.

⦾ a selkie must hide their skin carefully when they walk on land, because if their skin is lost, they cannot return to the sea.

⦾ whichever human finds and keeps the skin/fur of a selkie is considered as the selkie’s spouse.

These last few weeks have been the most impressive run of insanely crappy weeks you’ve ever had.

Everything just keeps going wrong. With work, with bills, and even a petty fight with one of your closest friends. To top it all off, your last phone call with your mother went awry too, with her complaining about your schedule and you getting a little too harsh on the phone. You regretted it immediately, but now she’s a little icy with you, which only dampens your mood further.

It has just been bad overall, so this shopping trip with Seungkwan is really something you need, even if you don’t have a whole lot of money to spend.

“Oh, I like this one.”

You hold the large coat up to your chest and turn to Seungkwan so he can take a look. It’s huge, falling all the way to your knees, and the fur is dark brown, a neutral and earthy color that looks shiny and smooth. It’s very soft to touch, and you have to wonder how it ended up in a thrift store. It looks and feels so high quality.

Seungkwan tilts his head as he appraises it. “Put it on.”

You do, standing in front of the full-length mirror for a better look. You turn to assess some angles, but you’re quickly being distracted from the way it looks, focusing more on the way it feels. It’s comforting as hell, and very warm. You’re still in awe that you managed to dig up something so good from this store.

“I’m getting it.” You announce before Seungkwan can even give his opinion. You don’t know why, but you really feel drawn to this coat. Something tells you that you need to own it. And after the shit week you’re having (it’s not even Wednesday), you think you deserve this. You haven’t bought anything new in ages. If this can give you a little boost of happiness when you feel like you’re drowning, then you won’t pass that opportunity up.

It doesn’t cost a lot, considering how wonderful it feels on your skin and the fact that you’re getting your next paycheck after the weekend. You feel a positive sensation jump in your chest as you walk out of the store, listening to Seungkwan whine about something work related. You’re quickly swept up in his emotions, augmenting his words and losing yourself in the conversation. You really do need to vent, and Seungkwan is the perfect person for something like that. He matches your energy, understands your struggle since he himself is afflicted with a terrible case of jerk-boss. You feel like you are shedding off pounds and pounds of negative build-up, which you are so thankful for.

Two more workdays follow your trip with Seungkwan, and they weigh heavily on you. By the time the weekend rolls around, you are so grateful you could cry. You need this, the relief of two whole days of no work. You get home on limbs that weigh like lead. With nothing but rotting in bed in your mind, you quickly change into something more comfortable, a loose shirt and leggings. You go through your streaming services to find something to watch as you cook. Just when you’re settling on the couch to start eating your freshly cooked meal, you hear a knock on your door.

Your eyebrows furrow, confused. For one, you aren’t expecting anyone. And for another, you have a doorbell, so the fact that someone is knocking makes even more questions arise. Before you can think further, there’s another knock, more insistent this time, and you’re quickly placing your bowl on the coffee table and scrambling to the door before you can wonder about who it might be. You curse the fact that front doors in your apartment building don’t have peepholes. You carefully unlock and open the door a tiny smidge, peering outside. You blink, confused at the sight.

It’s a man. He looks young, around your age, and has a head of thick, shaggy brown hair that is falling into his equally dark eyes. You look down, and you pause at what you’re seeing. He’s wearing a sweater vest over what looks like another sweater, both terribly mismatched. And he’s wearing…. a skirt?

Yes, it’s a plaid skirt. Deep maroon. Layered over dark denim jeans. And right below them, leather sandals.

You don’t even know what to say. You look back up at the man, and this time, he’s wearing a wide smile. His eyes are wide and bright, and you’re caught off guard by how cheerful he looks.

“Hi.” His voice is fresh, chirpy. You nod your head uncertainly.

“Hello.” Your own is uncertain and damp. You hold the edge of the door tightly, bracing yourself.

“My name is Chan.” He says.

You nod slowly. “Okay.” There’s no way in hell you are telling this stranger your name.

“May I come in?”

Your jaw drops at the question. Who is this man? Why is he dressed so strangely?

“Who are you?” You can’t help but scowl. You don’t have time for this. If this is some strange sales call or something, you are not interested.

The man blinks, as if confused by the question. “I’m Chan.”

Is he stupid? You stare at him for a moment. “Look, I don’t know you and whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested.”

As you go to close the door, the man rushes forward, knocking his palm on the wood and stopping it in place. You freeze, feeling slightly scared now. He immediately pulls his hand away, now fiddling with his fingers and looking incredibly nervous.

“I’m your husband.”

You blink once. Twice. He doesn’t say anything more, just stares like he has told you nothing more than a fact about the weather.

“Excuse me?”

He looks just as nervous, but he nods slowly. “You took my fur. You bought it. So I’m your husband.”

You are so confused and shocked that you don’t even realise you’ve opened the door properly. You’re just holding the doorframe now, jaw dropped, an incredulous look on your face as you eye him. He shifts a little uncomfortably, swaying back and forth as he wrings his hands.

“I’m a selkie.” He babbles. “You bought my fur. I’ve been looking everywhere for it. I lost it near the pier a few weeks ago. I can’t go back without it. But I’ve found it now. It belongs to you. Which means I belong to you now. I’m your husband.”

You don’t understand more than two words out of his mouth. Briefly, you think of drugs, and you edge the door slowly closed again.

“Listen,” you say, trying to keep annoyance and confusion out of your tone to make it more soft. Maybe he will listen to you that way. “There’s a shelter just a few blocks down. I promise you will find help there. I’m sure if you ask someone, they will tell you exactly where it is.”

You wave your arm to the left in a vague gesture for direction. He just stares at you. You fidget.

“I can’t leave.” He says. “You have my fur. I belong to you.”

You are starting to get a little scared, so you shake your head vaguely as you keep pushing the door closed. “Sorry. I can’t help you.”

You close the door before he can say anything else, immediately locking it. You stare at it for a second, listening. You can’t hear shuffling, or footsteps. You wonder if he has left.

You double check the locks before moving back inside, wondering what you should do. The whole interaction has left you a little shaken. You eye your now cold food, and the paused movie on your television screen. It only makes you grit your jaw and huff, feeling annoyed again. You have enough on your plate without worrying about some weirdo at your door. You can’t let this weigh on you. It’s probably a one-off, someone who just got confused. And you did try to help him, so hopefully he takes your advice.

But you can’t focus. Even as you sink onto your couch and finish absentmindedly eating, your stare blank as you watch the screen. You can’t help but think of the gibberish he spoke. Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching for your laptop, pulling it towards you and opening the search bar. Quickly, you type ‘selkies’.

There’s so much you find. Page after page of what looks like old, Scottish lore. Sketches and paintings, as well as written text. They are sea creatures, like seals or otters, that can transform into humans by shedding their skins or furs. You remember the man’s words.

‘You have my fur. You bought it.’

As you keep reading, you learn that taking a selkie’s fur means having ownership of them. It symbolises an intimate, lifetime bond. Like mates, or spouses. You recall him calling himself your husband, making an uneasy feeling settle in your stomach. Everything he said somehow makes sense. It’s fantastical, and outlandish to think it might be real, but in the context of it all, it really isn’t random words strung together. Maybe he was confusing you with someone else. Maybe they are doing some weird role play thing. You’ve seen stuff like that on the internet.

Your phone dings. You absentmindedly look at the text. It’s from the lady who lives across from you.

[minyoung apt 34]: hey. theres a man sitting outside your door. should i call someone? are u home?

You stare at the text, confusion and a small bit of realisation dawning on you. You throw your phone on the couch and stand up, quickly beelining to the door and unlocking it, pulling it open.

He is sitting beside the door, back against the wall just to your right. He looks up when you appear, blinking at you. You gape at him.

“You’re still here.” It’s more of a statement than a question.

He nods. “I can’t leave.”

The cheery, bright tone seems to have drained out of him. He sounds….. sad, almost. Unsure. Like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. His silly skirt is bunched up to his thighs, and the jeans are maybe two sizes too big for him. You hesitate, and then you make a very stupid decision. You brace yourself.

“Get up. Come on.”

He seems surprised, and honestly, so are you. You pull the door open more and step aside, watching him quickly scramble up. His face seems to have lightened, but he still looks apprehensive. Slowly, he walks in. You sigh deeply and shut the door behind him.

He’s looking around like he has never seen a house before. Or a living room. Four walls, pictures, a couch. His eyes are wide and beady as he stares at the television. You watch him carefully. In complete honesty, you don’t know why you invited him in. But there’s something in his voice that doesn’t ring any warning bells in your head. You’re sure your parents would have a heart attack if they heard of this, cursing at themselves and you for not instilling ‘stranger danger’ as well as they should have. But he doesn’t give you that vibe at all. When he turns to look at you again, there’s something earnest about it. Sincere.

You shift uncomfortably. “Chan, was it?”

He nods.

“And you’re… a selkie?”

His nod is even more vigorous this time.

“Okay.” You don’t know what to do with your hands. He keeps staring. “And you came here because…”

You prompt him to continue, and he does. “I’m your husband.”

You feel a flicker of irritation. “Yeah, you said that already. But I don’t know what that means.”

He frowns a little, lower lip jutting out. It’s almost cute. You shake the thought away.

“You bought my fur.”

You huff. “Yeah, I don’t know what exactly that is, but I don’t have anything of yours, buddy.”

He tilts his head, as if thinking hard. You start to regret inviting him in.

“I-it’s brown.” He says. “Dark brown. And very soft. A little heavy. And it smells like the sea.”

Your face smoothens in realisation. Wait, does he mean….?

The coat. Your newly bought fur coat. You haven’t worn it yet, since it’s a little too warm for the current weather. You’ve been waiting for a particularly cloudy and chilly day to put it on. Realisation dawns on you.

You leave Chan in your living room, taking less than a few seconds to find the thing and carry it back out. The way Chan’s face lights up at the sight of it has your heart racing. Again, you are hit with the reality of how sincere and pure he feels. No one can be this good an actor.

“You can have it.” You hold it out. “This is what you’re here for, right?”

While he looks happy to see the coat, he shakes his head, turning his bright eyes back to you. “I’m here for you.”

You feel your face heat a little, remembering the spouse and mate stuff you just looked up. You fidget where you stand, considering him.

God, your run of insanely crappy weeks just won’t end. And you really feel like you can’t deal with this right now. So you just huff and nod, feeling drained.

“Fine. But you will sleep on the couch until I know what to do with you.”

His resulting smile is so blinding, you wonder if there truly is something mythical about him.

…………………………………….

You don’t tell Seungkwan about Chan. Frankly, you’re still not sure what you will do about this whole situation, since you know that even if Chan leaves, he will just go back to sitting outside your door. He tells you as much himself. You also don’t know how supportive Seungkwan will be when he finds out that you have an unknown man living on your couch, claiming to be a supernatural creature of the sea. You honestly don’t have the energy for that lecture, or to convince Seungkwan that something deep in your chest is telling you that Chan is harmless. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, a strange reverence in his eyes, like he has never seen something more fascinating in his life. Or maybe it’s the fact that he genuinely doesn’t know anything.

You find some of Seungkwan’s and your brother’s clothes in your stuff, telling him to change into a sweatshirt and pants and to take off whatever ridiculous clothing he is wearing. He looks much better that way, more normal, but he claims to feel weird.

“Are you sure this is enough clothes?” He looks uncertain. You can’t help but feel amused.

“Yes, because you’re indoors. You can put something else on top when you go outside.”

He nods, albeit a little hesitant. But he seems to trust your judgment.

When you offer him a meal, he accepts it carefully, eyeing the bowl of noodle soup like he has never seen it before. He picks at it, and makes a face when he eats it. He tries to quickly hide it, but he can’t fake anything to save his life, so you spot it immediately, and when you ask him what he usually eats, he lists varieties of fish and shellfish you have never heard of before. You do end up buying some for him, and conveniently, you don’t even have to cook it. He eats it raw.

“You would love sushi.” You quip as you watch him eat. When he gives you a confused look, you just shake your head and wave it off, mentally making a note to take him to a sushi place sometime.

Chan tells you he has never left the water before. His pack never trusted him enough to do it, and apparently they had been right. He lost his fur very quickly, without even realising, and he has been trying to track it for weeks, claiming he can’t go back without it.

“So now that you’ve found it, you can go back.” You say, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t leave you. You’re my wife.”

Right. He keeps saying that, always in the softest tone, looking at you like you hung the moon and stars. It lights your face on fire, makes you fidget where you sit, but he is never fazed by it, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It’s not like you’ve never had anyone’s romantic attention before. You have had boyfriends. Granted, most of them ended terribly. You’re still not sure if you’re completely over your ex cheating on you. But Chan is different. Hell, he’s not even human, so it’s not like you can compare him to anything from your past. Dating has always been difficult for you, and you kind of gave up on it when you moved and got hit by the shitstorm that is now your life. It was put so effectively on the back burner that you had forgotten what this felt like. Having someone like you like this.

With Chan, it’s hard to figure out how to act. You don’t know what to do with all his…… positivity. Chan feels like something untouched, untainted. He reminds you of how you were when you just moved to this town. Hopeful and ready to start your adult life. And then the universe decided to start beating the crap out of you, until you felt like you were just surviving, going through the motions.

Chan isn’t like that. Chan is….. luminous. He randomly compliments you, talking about how nice and colorful your apartment is (you don’t think it’s anything special). Or saying he likes something you’re wearing, or that your hair is pretty and shiny. Simple compliments, nothing too poetic, but he says them all with so much earnestness. He especially gets giddy when you wear his coat, saying you look best in it, patting you down before you go to work. It always leaves you hot and fidgety. You really don’t know how to handle him, or his easy affection.

Your life changes as the weeks go by.

Work is just as hectic as always. You get the mountain load of two or three people, enough to have you ready to pull your hair out. You slave away all day, dragging your feet as you finally get home, but this time, it is not to an empty house. Because Chan is there. Chan and his bright smile and his endlessly curious but simple questions. Chan with his many, many stories about life under the sea. He always notices that you’re tired, and he offers to cook for you. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, but he is good at following instructions. So if whatever he is cooking comes from a packet with directions on the back, he ends up making something very hearty and nice. Usually, you are so tired that you don’t mind anything he makes. You will eat it as long as you aren’t the one who has to cook it after working all day.

You complain to him that your legs get cramped up from sitting on your desk chair for so many hours. He pulls your legs towards him before you can protest, plonking them down on his lap and kneading the calf muscles. All your rejections die in your throat as soon as you feel the glorious pressure of his hands. You moan appreciatively, not noticing how Chan positively perks up at the sound, doubling down on his efforts to lessen your fatigue.

That becomes a daily occurrence.

A few weeks of Chan living with you has made you much more comfortable with him. You watch the screen with tired, bleary eyes as he runs his fingers over the soles of your feet from where he has them in his lap. It feels wonderful, as always. While you watch the TV, he watches you. He does that often, just openly staring. It used to make you uncomfortable, and you got very close to scolding him a few times. But the look on his face always makes you stop. A look of awe that you’ve never felt directed at you before. There’s nothing creepy about it, only pure, unfiltered marvel. So you just let him do what he wants.

A voice deep inside you says you don’t actually mind, you might even enjoy it, but you try not to think about that voice.

You let out a weary sigh and shift a bit, rolling your shoulders to adjust the ache in them. Chan notices, because he always notices, and he pauses his movements on your feet.

“I can rub your shoulders.” He offers.

You blink, considering it. You already know how good it will feel, but you don’t know if you want to cross that boundary. This is different, having your feet in his lap. But you don’t know how you feel about Chan’s hands all over your back and shoulders. It would feel too much like testing dangerous waters.

The truth is, you like him. He has become a breath of fresh air in your bitter and depressing days. Every day, you come home while looking forward to his company. He is so different, light, cheerful, effervescent. He talks and talks and talks, about any and everything. And it doesn’t annoy you. Never. He injects something warm in your cold, silent evenings.

You don’t have to worry with him. There’s no agenda here. He doesn’t want anything from you except your company. He takes care of you like no one has for a really long time.

Sometimes, he feels like a dream. And you perpetually carry the fear that one day, he will go away.

He’s still watching you, anticipating your reply. His hands slowly work on the arch of your foot. His eyes, that deep warm brown, pores into yours. For the first time in a long time, you can’t bring yourself to care about consequences. You just nod.

“Okay.”

He ends up seating himself beside you, coaxing you to turn your back to him on the couch. You can feel him touch your sweater before speaking again.

“Would it be better without this?”

You flush but nod, reaching down to tug the sweater off, so you’re left with a long sleeved shirt instead. You feel his touch right in between your shoulder blades. Slowly, he starts pressing into the skin over your shirt.

Chan is way too good with his hands for a creature that didn’t even have hands until a few weeks ago. He digs his thumbs into the lines of your shoulder blades, making your eyes roll as he breaks knot after knot of tension in your muscles. He purses his lips and frowns as he gets a feel of it. You hear a soft huff of breath.

“Your muscles are so tense.” He murmurs. “This only happens to me when I swim for a very, very long time. Hours and hours. With no breaks.”

You crack a little smile at the comparison.

“It feels like that sometimes.” You mumble, staring at the opposite wall while lost in thought. “Like I’m just swimming and swimming. No breaks. No end in sight.”

His touch slows, but doesn’t lose its strength. His fingers coil around your shoulders, kneading. Your eyelids flutter.

“Human lives are difficult.” His voice is barely above a whisper, but you hear him in the silence of the muted television screen. “I feel like none of you are happy.”

You purse your lips. “What makes you say that?”

Another exhale, this time almost like a defeat. “You never smile. You never laugh.”

You blink, processing. You don’t know why that is unexpected, but it catches you off guard. Your mind whirs. You think on it.

When was the last time you were truly happy?

When you try to look back on the last few months, you can’t pinpoint anything. Then, a memory floats to the surface, from just a couple of weeks ago. Chan had tried to bake something, and while he succeeded, he left the kitchen in such a mess that he was almost reduced to tears by the end. He had pouted and whined about it, saying it is ’way too difficult’ to make a cheesecake. You couldn’t help but muffle your laughter at his flour caked face.

It still makes you smile.

“You make me happy.” You say.

His hands pause. Not a falter, a complete halt. You wonder if you’ve crossed a line.

“I do?” There’s something shaky in his voice, like he can’t believe it. You just nod.

With the hold Chan has on your shoulders, he maneuvers you to turn around. You do, finally able to see him face to face. Your breath hitches at the hope in his eyes, the unadulterated happiness.

“I make you happy?” He asks again, like he just can’t bring himself to accept it.

You can’t help the lift of your lips. You nod again. “You do.”

You don’t expect him to kiss you, but you don’t stop him either. His lips are endlessly soft, and so, so eager. When you don’t push him away, he tilts his head, deepening the kiss. You are hit with the very faint scent of sea salt, and it feels like you’re on the coast. Your heart squeezes. Your hands reach up, cupping his face, and you push harder into him.

Chan whines, whines, lapping at your lips like he needs them to breathe. His tongue licks into your mouth. His enthusiasm is almost too much for you. It should be a surprise, but it’s not, because it’s Chan, and he has always been like this. He hangs on to your every word like it’s law. He looks at you like you’re the mythical creature, not him. You feel his hands now, on your knees before they slide up, gripping your hips tightly. He inhales your every sigh, and something warm and electric coils in the pit of your stomach. Your hand winds in his hair. It’s soft, just the same texture as your (his) coat, and you can’t help but grip it tight. He moans openly into your mouth. It’s too much. You break away for air with a loud gasp.

It doesn’t seem to deter him, because he smooches over your cheek, your jaw, further down your neck. Your eyelids flutter, tilting your head back, your hand still in his hair. You encourage his movements. His tongue licks over your skin. He moans again.

“I want to taste every part of you.” His voice is breathless, desperate. You feel yourself clench. He pulls away so he can look at you, his eyes pleading, brighter than you’ve ever seen them. This close, you can see that his pupils are completely blown.

“Please? Can I?” His tone is shaky.

God, he needs to stop doing that. It’s making wetness pool at an alarming rate between your legs. You so desperately want him down here, it makes your hips buck up involuntarily. You don’t even think about it, all inhibitions thrown out the window. You nod.

He doesn’t let you undress yourself, gently brushing your hands away because he claims he wants to do it himself. He lays you down on the couch, hovers over you on his knees as he peels your clothes off, until you’re left completely naked under him. He watches you with so much hunger in your eyes that your face flames, and it takes everything in your power not to shrink into yourself. Truthfully, you love it, love seeing the sincere lust in his face, the way he runs his tongue over his bottom lip, eyes lingering over every inch of you, like he wants all of you.

Something about being so deeply desired has your head spinning.

He is true to his word. His lips trail over every inch of you. He runs them over your shoulders, your arms, even holding your hands gently to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Every few inches, he lays a soft kiss, before going back to running his lips and tongue over the skin. He licks down the valley of your breasts, burying his face in them for a few seconds. He spends extra time on your nipples, sucking and flicking his tongue over them until they are stiff and peaked. By the time he is anywhere close to your core, you’re already gasping and trembling under him in anticipation.

Finally, finally, he spreads your legs. He stares for a long time, thumbing at your outer lips, opening your slit to the cold air, peering at your little nub, swollen and ready, neglected.

“Pretty.” He whispers. “You’re pretty all over. Every inch of you.”

You feel a pressure build behind your eyes. Fuck. You can’t be this lame. You can’t be the one crying during sex. But Chan isn’t touching you, he is worshipping you. In his hold, under his hands, you feel like something precious, something worthy of this kind of reverence. It’s an unprecedented feeling. You don’t think anyone has ever wanted you this much. Not before him.

He leans closer, and you feel his breath on your pussy as he speaks.

“This is it, right? This is where I can pleasure you the most?”

You suddenly remember that Chan isn’t really familiar with human anatomy. So far, you haven’t felt his lack of experience at all, mostly because you think his enthusiasm is so intense that it masks the inexperience completely. You nod at him, swallowing tightly.

“Yeah.”

He licks his lips. “Can I taste it?”

The words are way sexier than you thought they would be. You throw your head back. “God, yes. Please.”

Something about the ‘please’ does it for him, because he licks a long, thick stripe all the way from your clenched hole to your clit, dragging slowly over it. He hums when his tongue withdraws, just for a second, just to taste, and then he’s digging in again, flattening his tongue over and over on your slit, like he approves of the taste, like he wants more.

He’s sloppy, not bothered by the filthy wet noises your sopping cunt makes, lips and tongue running over every nook and cranny. But there’s one spot where you need him the most, and you can’t help it. You wind a hand through his hair, tugging his head up until his tongue runs just over your clit. Your hips jerk.

“There,” you gasp, “right there.”

He’s a quick learner, just like he learned to cook after just a few tries, and how to work the television and your Netflix account, and how he figured out which clothes go together. His tongue flicks eagerly over your clit, like he’s hanging on to every cry and moan that falls from your lips. He must register how the noises amp up when he pays attention to your clit, because he pushes your legs further apart, buries his face deeper into your cunt, wraps his lips around it and sucks hard. Your back arches right off the couch, gripping his hair tightly. He groans into your pussy.

It’s a cycle. His lips and tongue make you feel good, you tug at his hair in encouragement, he hums into you, and the vibrations feel even better, sending chills up your whole body. Your high builds a little too quick, and you wish this could just go on for hours and hours. You have no doubt in your head that if you asked him, he would do exactly that. And very happily too. But your need for release is more pressing than that, so you hold him close, you babble about how you’re almost there, and when your orgasm hits, you go cross eyed with it, wave after wave of pleasure cresting inside you as you shake and cry through it. Chan doesn’t slow for a single second, letting you writhe and twist under him, chasing your hips wherever they go. It’s only when you tug his hair hard enough to pull his head away that he finally stops, looking up at you with dazed, teary eyes. His whole face is sweaty, wet, and blotched pink over his pale cheeks.

He’s a vision.

You pull hard at his sweatshirt until he’s scrambling up your body, and you kiss him hard. He moans appreciatively, immediately licking into your mouth like he needs it to breathe. Your own taste invades your tongue.

“Let me do that again.” He whines. “Please. Wanna make you feel good. Let me lick you again.”

You moan and feel yourself clench hard, head spinning with how badly he’s turning you on. But you feel so empty, and you need him in other ways too, or you feel like you might combust.

“Later.” You promise him. “Need your cock right now.”

“My what?” He pulls back, still looking unfocused as he frowns down at you. You blink a little, clearing the fog in your head a little. Oh.

Your hand travels down until you palm the bulge in his pants. He jerks violently and gasps.

“This,” you whisper, biting your lip. Chan’s eyes shoot down to where it is trapped between your teeth. “Need this inside me.”

“Inside….?”

It’s better to do than to explain, so you push yourself up, arranging him under you until you're straddling his lap where he sits, undoing the drawstring of his sweatpants and pushing them down enough to free his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight. He’s girthy, way more than you’ve ever taken before, and he curves just at the tip in a way that you know is going to make you see stars when he fucks you right. You run your hand over him, and he gasps again, hips bucking into your touch.

“Feel good?” You ask. Chan nods furiously.

“Wanna make you feel good.” His voice sounds wrecked. You can’t help your giddy smile at his laser focus on making this pleasurable for you.

“You will.” You adjust yourself until you’re hovering over him, running his tip through your slit. You feel him grip your thighs tightly.

The first slide in is glorious. He’s so thick that he stretches your poor pussy out enough to make your legs tremble violently. He runs his hands over them, watching your face scrunch up in pleasure and pain. If you had more control of your mental faculties, if you weren’t so busy taking his massive cock in, you would try to placate the worry on his face, but you have other things to concern yourself with right now.

The deeper he slides in, the farther up his eyes roll. His jaw goes slack, and you watch with a tinge of amusement as the feeling makes his own face go through a million emotions in the span of a few seconds. It makes you brave, more daring, and it makes you feel so sexy to have the power to make him feel all this for the first time. His grip on your thighs is near bruising, which you don’t think he realises, too lost in how warm and tight your cunt feels. Finally, you are fully seated on him, all the way up to the very base.

“Good?” You manage to gasp out. It seems he chokes on his own words, because he just pulls your body close and jerks his head down in a nod.

“What about you?” He looks up at you, blinking furiously. He looks like he might cry if you say that it doesn’t feel good, not that you would lie like that. You giggle breathlessly.

“It’s so good, Channie.” You coo, running a hand through his hair. “You fill me up perfectly, like you were made for me.”

He whines, so loud and thick with want that you think he might cum right there. He holds you tight against him.

“Yes.” He gasps. “Made for you. My wife. Wanna be with you forever.”

It’s incoherent babbling. Uninhibited because of the lust. You shouldn’t take him seriously. Except you know Chan. You know he doesn’t lie. You know he means this with every fiber in him. Your heart stutters, your exhale shaky. You hug his body tight to you, unable to respond. You want him impossibly closer. You tug at his sweatshirt.

“Off.”

He doesn’t waste a single second, revealing wide expanses of built muscle. You run your eyes over him, hungry for the sight, for the feel of him. Once more, emotion builds inside your chest, filling you up from the inside out.

Finally, when you feel like you’ve adjusted to his size, you rock your hips on him, testing. He gasps immediately, hands running everywhere he can reach you and feel you. You let him, basking under the attention now that your hesitation has melted away and the lust has left you wanting. You slowly build up a rhythm, bouncing on him with less and less care until you feel his cock properly fuck into you the way you wanted. Little gasps and moans leave your lips as well as his. Your body warms under the exertion, the deep penetration making your core clamp up slowly and steadily, pleasure building inside you. Skin against skin makes wet plopping noises, a dirty sound that only adds to what you’re already feeling. It seems Chan just can’t stand to have his mouth unoccupied, because he quickly finds your nipple and starts sucking, making you cry out at the feeling.

Exhaustion starts pulling at your limbs after a while, and you squeeze your eyes shut in frustration. You’re so close, you can feel it. You just need a little more, his cock really ramming into you, just a few well aimed thrusts and you know you would topple over.

“Chan.” You pull his head up with a tug on his hair, a habit you’ve created by now. “I’m- I’m tired-”

He doesn’t even wait to hear more, gripping your hips tightly and pistoning up hard into you. You gasp, arching into him.

“Like this?” His voice is raspy, rough. You nod vigorously, unable to form words as he keeps going, fucking up hard into you until you feel nothing but the intense stimulation on your sweet spot, his tip rubbing insistently over it again and again. His pelvis grazes your clit just right with every thrust. You don’t even have time to warn him, clamping tight around him as your orgasm racks through your core. Your whole body winds up with the release, toes curling and eyes rolling. Your lips release a mantra of ‘oh god, oh god, oh god’ as you weep through it, nearly blacking out with how intense it is.

Chan groans loudly then, and you feel something warm coat your insides. Beneath you, you can feel his body jerk and shake, and you hold him tight against you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He moans into your chest as he comes down from his high.

He leans up, kisses you slowly, softly, a welcome feeling after the harsh pounding you just took. You hum into his lips, savouring the feeling of it. Your head is fuzzy, like someone just cleaned it out, leaving nothing behind. Chan nudges his nose against yours, and you blink your eyes open. His smile is dopey, giddy, and you can’t help your giggle.

“I like you like this,” he whispers, “you look so relaxed.”

“All thanks to you.” You brush his hair away from his sweaty face, scratching his scalp a little. He visibly shivers. You can’t help but smile.

You kiss him again, still light and soft. You feel his cock twitch inside you.

“Can I lick you again now? Please?”

You are a little caught off guard, huffing in amusement. “I don’t think I have it in me, Channie.”

“I’ll be gentle.” He runs his hands carefully up your bare back, as if to make a point. “Please. Wanna make you feel good.”

Something stirs in your core again. God, this man will be the death of you. Well, not really a man. A selkie. Your selkie. And his blinding smile when you give in to his begging is enough to tell you that there’s no coming back from this.

Not that you would want to. Like Chan said, you want him to be here with you forever.

🏷️: @picheolin-17 , @lovelylonelinesssvt , @scarlettveemin , @shad0wcast , @iluvhosh , @littlebluhellfire , @jimzk , @lucis-noctiana , @hannieweee , @xh01bri , @ilseamamuchoamingyu , @bleudandelion , @huihye , @markoplolo , @moondustmemories , @kaitieskidmore97 , @hocidust , @missaoki , @cheolwoo , @isaltedcarameows , @huiimoon , @tranquillitysoul , @weasleytwins-41 , @igetcarriedawaywithyou , @ateez-atiny380 , @piratekingateez2001 , @kpetts , @k4trinabluu , @sunnysidesins , @embrace-themagic , @escoupsue , @h0neygloww , @hxsxxk-180294 , @wxnderingthoughts , @meanieislife , @jiminie-08 , @w0nw0es , @lostinfakescenarios , @secret1234505 , @redemptions , @haoxiaoba , @junnhuisworld , @gojominn , @peachy-writings, @dreamingofpcy , @woozidreams , @booscafe , @tiffanylstrobel , @sannidokki , @dkstar

[shushuangel]

come and find out - csc x f.reader

synopsis: you're too busy with textbooks and constant "when will you get a boyfriend?" questions. though, your roommate, choi seungcheol, seemingly has all the time to be sleeping around campus. it has you wondering, is it that good?

pairing: frat!scoups x genius!f.reader

genre: college au, smut, slight crack

word count: 13.4k

content/trigger warning: MDNI 18+ content, alcohol consumption, reader is an anxious person, reader is very sexually frustrated, reader wants scoups REAL bad, tension gah!, random ass oc names for readers friends, your friends are kind of pushy, drunk sex, brief mention of loss of virginity at the end, readers first time, brief dry humping, mirror sex, size kink & strength kink if you squint, nipple play, fingering, begging, degradation, grower!scoups, unprotected piv (no glove no love guys!!), multiple rounds/positions(missionary, doggy), overstimulation, spanking, rough sex, squirting, brief choking via choke hold, creampie, petnames: hers(baby), let me know if i missed any!!!!

a/n: oh my god i thought i would die before i would finish writing this. thank you thank you thank you, to my dearest personal friends and sister for supporting me during this. please enjoy, and if you see any errors don't be shy and mention them!! comments and reposts are very much appreciated <3.

one:

College dick is good, as everyone has proclaimed. Yet, here you are, two years into your undergraduate degree. No dick, no life, and no money. The Loser check list is practically already fully checked off.

If you didn’t already exceed at the ‘Loser check list’, you’re currently occupied at your cluttered desk. Head buried in textbooks, knee anxiously bouncing, hands taut in your ‘day two’ hair. 

There was an assignment that was due yesterday, and you’ve been constantly thinking about it since. To be honest, you don’t even know why you put it off, you swear you only did that to make yourself go insane.

You thought that you'll live a little but you're always stuck studying and finishing presentations. Or when you do socialize, all your friends talk about the cute boy on campus, or how dinner went with their boyfriend of two months, or their sneaky link ghosting them. 

Those were also gentle reminders why you should stay single. You had your fair share; some blowjobs, as in one, then making out, and the list kind of stopped there. You prioritized homework and studying, over boys that are Mr. Minute Man.

As if college couldn’t get any worse, you're also stuck with a sucky ass roommate. You didn't want to pay for on campus dorms, so you decided on a nicer place, but having to commute to school every day.

The thing about your roommate, is that they're full of shit, obnoxious, always, and when I mean always, it's constant, they're constantly fucking someone. You thought your libido was high? Oh no, you've truly been out-freaked by your roommate, Choi, freaking, Seungcheol.

Practically half of the campus girls had walked in and out of your flat. The real reason why, is because of Choi Seungcheol's fucking dick. His cock is a living and walking legend. Him as a whole is already a package: strong arms, deep voice, tall, and broad. Then, his dick was just the ribbon on the entire present. 

Truly his greed sickens you, and yet the fact he's fucking a sorority sister, maybe every other week, agitates you. It made you wonder, is it really that good?

—

It was another quiet day in your shared flat, you're brewing coffee absently. Seungcheol had left the house for some activity in his fraternity. He said it was some team bonding shit and then slammed the door. Perfect, you thought, the house was finally silent. 

The awfully thin walls reverberated the moans from the squealiest girl he fucked last night. You needed this coffee and silence more than anything right now. 

Your brain buzzed busily as you recalled the homework and upcoming tests you needed to finish and study for.

The electric kettle clicked with the bubbling of boiling water, signifying you to get out of your head. You poured the boiling water into a thick, glass mug. Stirring up the syrup concoction you just made.

It was your natural routine, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against your ceramic mug, with the rumbling and humming of cars outside your flat. It was comforting to say the least, when it was quiet.

Although many days like this, your brain wasn't. The loud noises from last night always sink into your stomach, coiling like a boa constrictor ready to eat their prey. You don’t know when this sexual fixation started, or how you were so sensitive to… well that stuff.

Maybe it started when you began to read stupid smut books where they don't even execute sex properly. Then when you were older, watching stupid pornos where they go at an ungodly speed, and somehow you couldn’t live without thinking about sex. Wishing to experience, like all those girls who said they lost their virginity in stupid highschool. 

What got to your head was the fact you were so inexperienced, yet so experienced at the same time.

You let out a sharp exhale as you checked your phone with sudden urgency you didn't have five minutes ago. Your friends had decided you didn't come outside your house enough this month, so they invited you to eat some brunch with them.

It always went the same way, small talk, boyfriend talk, then to 'are-you-seeing-anyone' talk. Like, they’ve managed to ask the same thing in the span of a week. 

Perhaps your relationship status might have changed, but for you, no way in heaven would it. 

It's okay, they were good friends nonetheless. Always pushing you to do new things, and keeping that spark of social skills alive in you, despite your refusal.

There's not much they can do when you've set your standards higher than your grades, which your grades are pretty high. Or modestly high. Or is it average? You don't know anymore, with the ghost of expectations haunting you. A strict set of rules no one ever asked you to meet, managed to keep you in line.

—

You quickly tidied up your hair as you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror. Your lips tugged up into a staged smile, then into a smirk of pure shock. You haven't seen yourself so put together in maybe, months? Usually these small dates with your friends motivated you to doll yourself up.

It's almost addictive how good you look when you put effort into your looks. You don't care how you look most of the time, because literally no one else cares. Plus, Seungcheol brings over these goddess-like girls, and you don't even dare try to compete with them. Not like you… not like you ever thought about appealing to Seungcheol. 

As you exited the house, Seungcheol was making his way back home, glancing at you like a stranger.

"Where are you going?" He pressed, making you shoot him an incredulous glare. He’s acting like you don’t have a social life, which is partially correct.

"Brunch. With my friends." You stated it like it was obvious, like he could have guessed. Which he couldn't. 

He doesn't believe in 'brunch'. It's either late breakfast or early lunch, no such thing as 'brunch', he proclaimed the last time you uttered such words.

"Oh, okay." He cocked an accusing eyebrow, and walked into the house without another word. You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes at how stupid that conversation was.

That summed up your relationship, a few words, a glare, and then thick silence. Recently though, he’s been ignoring you, or avoiding you? You can’t tell because you’ve been avoiding home as of late.

An uncharacteristic thing that’s been happening is the lack of girls flooding into your shared place. Last night was kind of a surprise though, he would have told you before… but he didn’t. Honestly, you’re kind of thankful that he told you— excluding last night— because you couldn’t manage any more sleepless nights.

You sighed slamming your car door to silence the endless spill of thoughts in your head. Your eyes tried to keep focus on the route as your knuckles clenched to white. He's so utterly stupid, you can't believe people would flock over to suck his dick—

Your GPS yelled at you that you had missed your left turn. A long sigh dragged from your lips as you followed the prompted directions. You’re shooting glances at your phone whilst making sure another driver doesn’t decide to play footsies with their brake.

Something that’s a mystery to you is how Seungcheol inhabited a chunk of your brain. The ratio being 95% school and 5% Seungcheol, and that’s pretty extreme for you. 

He’s your roommate, you shouldn’t be imagining wanting to run your hands along his back muscles, tracing the tattoo of an olive tree down the column of his spine. Or even how his face feels when he buries it into the crook of your neck, his calloused hands gripping onto your thighs.

Whenever he occupied your thoughts, you couldn’t figure out why. Even if you were to stop and think, it’d strain your big, beautiful brain. You wouldn’t dare date him, he sleeps around, he’s an asshole, he’s not as driven in school as you are. He’s just… just someone you shouldn’t date or be affiliated with. 

Your pride held you back mostly, and you knew that. It’s just if you were to date him, you feel like this perfect world you had built so deliberately, will shatter. Your friends will be disappointed, the past girls he dated and slept with will lash out at you, and maybe even your parents will be disappointed. You don’t want that. You don’t want to disappoint anyone, and most importantly, you don’t want to disappoint Seungcheol.

-

The cafe was cozy, with welcoming colors and flourishing plants. In the window, you can see an older guy with a newspaper who sat alone in a booth. A family of four eating at a table while talking animatedly to each other. Then an awfully chatty dude talking to the guy working behind the bar, adjusting the cakes on the display. 

After you begrudgingly parallel parked, the door chimed as you pushed it open. A chipper, brunette hostess greeted you, but your friends are already hooting and hollering in a booth that you can only see in your peripheral.

"I'm... with them." You motioned with your thumb, and the hostess just nodded with an understanding smile on her lips.

"Oh my god! It's a miracle!" Erika exclaimed, her dyed dirty blonde hair tied neatly up into a bun. A gummy, warm smile graced her already beautiful face.

"Is it really one? We had to beg her to come out." Jennifer retorted, snorting before she drank a sip out of her chai latte. She tucked her silky black hair behind her ear, her dainty silver piercings glimmering in the morning light.

You let out a scoff as you playfully shoved Jennifer, who gasped in offense. "Listen now, I just didn't want to bail on your guy's beautiful faces." 

"Please, we all know you need relationship advice." Jennifer murmured slyly, making Erika laugh. She always laughed at anything, and which you're thankful for, because you'd actually fight Jennifer if it wasn't for Erika's sweet laughter.

"Me? How's you and that mysterious campus boy you kissed at the last sorority party?" You prodded, Jennifer returned your comment with a lazy eye roll.

"Hey, that was just a one time thing. He's kind of weird." She admitted, stirring her drink absently.

Erika hummed noncommittally, seemingly deep in thought or just spacing out. "Wasn't he like a stoner? I'm pretty sure Jiwon got in trouble last time for being with a guy who did drugs."

"Erika what the actual hell are you talking about?" Jennifer laughed, looking at Erika's already dumbfounded face.

"Oh my god, are you guys talking about Chris? Seungcheol said he got kicked out." You whispered in a conspirative manner. Seungcheol didn't actually tell you this directly, you just happened to overhear.

"You kissed Chris?" Erika's face visibly repulsed, plucking up her menu.

"No! I don't know what this idiot is talking about—" Jennifer sighed loudly as she cut herself off, playfully glaring back at you.

"Speaking of Seungcheol, you should go to his party this weekend." Jennifer suggested to you, in order to change the topic, her manicured nails clinking against her drink.

"Girl, if I went to a party, something seriously wrong must have happened." You plainly responded, closing your menu. "Are you guys ready to order?"

Erika hummed in response as she stirred the straw around in her drink. Jennifer called over the waiter who happened to be placing out cups of water for a nearby table. 

Jennifer was always the strong-headed, blunt beauty in this trio. With her dark hair and monochromatic clothing, even you would date her.

Erika on the other hand... was different. Her bubbly, giggly attitude was a stark difference to Jennifer. To the pastel and warm toned clothing and delicate, you can say those two were polar opposites.

With you, you were the perfect mix of them both. That's why you guys get along so well. Even though they nag you about your absent dating life. 

-

Your meal arrived in a speedy manner, you’re already stuffing your face because just coffee wouldn't cut it for you. 

Erika and Jennifer rambled about the drama between sororities right now. How girls are constantly getting caught being indecent literally anywhere now. They turn their attention to your crumb dusted face.

"Say, has Seungcheol been bringing anyone to your place recently?" Erika poked, pointing her fork at you.

"No? Well, usually he's been doing it when I'm out of the house, in the library." You chewed on your right side of your mouth, washing your meal down with water.

"Of course... the library." Jennifer mused, giving you a teasing glare.

"Well excuse me… Mr. Wagner assigned a freaking essay right before break. I don't wanna hear moaning when I'm writing about some... stupid bullshit he always pulls out of his ass." You retorted, no more food in your mouth.

Jennifer raised her hands in defense. "Okay chill, I was just making an observation. Also, how have you been keeping up with Seungcheol? You haven’t been bitching and moaning about him recently.”

“Hey! I’ve never bitched and moaned about Seungcheol.” You pointed your fork at Jennifer. You haven’t actually, it was a keen observation. Recently he’s been nicer to you, if avoiding you is being nice.

Erika glanced at you like you were crazy. “Excuse me??? That’s all you did for about maybe a month.”

You sighed in defeat, poking at your food absently. “...Okay maybe.”

“‘Okay maybe’ isn’t an answer, something has to be going on.” Jennifer nagged, and she was kind of right. Just kind of.

“Fine… if you want to hear it so badly, I guess I’ll just admit it.” A long sigh dragged from your lips; the heavy weight of your thoughts fleeting as you prepared to announce it.

You annoyingly drawled out the thick silence, nails tapping insistently on the dining table. “It's like… I can’t stop thinking about him.” You mumbled out, eyes glued on your food.

They both groaned, like they saw this coming.

“Dude, what… What the hell?” Erika sighed, pinching her nose bridge.

“I freaking knew it!” Jennifer scoffed, smashing her fork against the table, creating an awfully loud metallic clank.

“Guys— just hear me out.” You started, but both of them look unimpressed, easily shutting you up. A ball of guilt started stirring in your stomach as you looked at them in panic. Unease rushed through your body, as anxious thoughts flooded your mind.

“You’re coming to this party if you like it or not. You need to realize that Seungcheol is actually evil.” Jennifer reprimanded, she immediately yanked out her phone. “Sending you the details, right now.”

Shortly, your phone buzzed with Jennifer’s contact dropping down on the notification bar. Telling them and understanding your feelings, was already a sign you’re too far gone. It's their duty to refrain you from falling victim to Choi Seungcheol. Even if they’re already failing.

two: 

Pathetically, you've retreated to the library to take your mind off things. Taking a quiet corner you've always claimed. The familiar musty smell of yellowed paper and the outside rain truly healed your heart. You neatly set up your folders, pushing up your slipping bluelight glasses.

It was perfect actually, the clouds blocking the shining sun with fat drops of rain. An unexpected heavy sigh escaped your lips, as you stared at your blank document. You came here to distract yourself, but you spot a touchy couple a few tables away to your right. 

You can see his hand squeeze her thigh in broad fluorescent lighting. How her leg is thrown over his knee, and how their shoulders rubbed against each other. 

Your nails dugged into your knees unconsciously at the sight. The tension in your jaw snapped you back to reality.

God, get a room, you thought. 

As your knee bounced anxiously, you can't help your drifting mind. 

Imagining the warmth and pressure of someone else's hands. Their own personal scent fogging your mind, their voice soft and reserved for you. His strong arms draped over your shoulder like it belonged there as he played with your hair. A gummy smile growing, making his dimples cave in his cute cheeks. His full, pouty lips distract you from his attentive eyes…

You shook your head to snap yourself out of this perverted daze. You can't believe you just thought about Seungcheol. Wait. Was that Seungcheol you were thinking about? 

An annoyed sigh escaped your bitten lips, your eyes snapping back down to the bare document. 

-

Ten minutes went by. Then fifteen. Then thirty.

Your nail tapped insistenly against the metal of your laptop while your bouncing knee practically shook the whole table. The downpour of the rain was getting louder and more intense, some people fleeing into the library to just wait it out.

Your mind returned to those past imaginations, absolutely wrecking your concentration. You feel too immersed in your thoughts, even to the point where your heart started racing at the idea.

It’s almost like you can feel his breath mingling with yours and stealing the air out of your lungs. A phantom brush of his nose against your pulse point, that familiar charming smile haunting against your neck. His annoyingly addicting scent that is tailored to him and him only. Just the mere thought of him has you wrecked.

Suddenly, you take a moment, sniffing the air like a weirdo. You could have sworn you smelt his signature scent. A whiff of the gut wrenching cedary citrus hit you, a chill running straight up your spine. There’s no doubt that it's Seungcheol's cologne. 

An annoyed and pent up sigh left your mouth. Your head falling into your palms as you groaned, trying to clear your head just in case he’s actually lurking around.

His cologne got stronger, the scent haunting you, or maybe you were thinking about him too much. It was like you manifested him into existence. 

Suddenly, you feel the warmth of someone elses body radiating onto yours.

“Can I sit here?” A smug voice asked, already pulling the chair out to sit besides you.

A wave of his cologne smacked you awake, and you finally peeked through your fingers.

Seungcheol was sitting there, close enough for you to see the droplets of rain on his hair. How his damp shirt accentuated his firm chest, and beads of rain dripping down his defined biceps.

Oh my god. This is truly a sight of sore eyes, you must admit.

“What?” A sputtered laugh escaped him, his hand running through his damp hair. The mussed hair made him look even more sexier, making your teeth gritting in annoyance.

“What do you want?” You softly groaned out, peeking at him again. You’re trying to avoid his eyes, especially the fact you’ve been thinking about him for the past hour.

“Woah, chill.” Seungcheol breathed out, looking you up and down, almost like he was savoring the sight in front of him. That’s weird. He’s being weird. You feel weird.

You looked around the library, catching his friends goofing off. They’re mishandling books, getting their wet clothes on the carpet, and making an awfully loud ruckus in a library. You cringe at the sight of them.

“Why don’t you just go with them?” You asked pointedly, but you completely understand that you wouldn’t wanna be seen with idiots like them.

“Because.” Seungcheol murmured, you could feel his eyes burning holes into you. 

“Okay, whatever.” You grumbled, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. Your fingers pushed up absently at your bluelight glasses, using this as an excuse to hide your flushing face.

What does he even mean, ‘because’? Did he want to hang out with you? Did he see you and decided he wanted your company instead of his close friends? Does he enjoy being around you?

No– you’re overthinking all of this. Your friends are right, he’s evil. He’s just playing games with you right now. He’s eager to watch how you play the next move. 

You sighed loudly as you opened up the blank document again, which is a weak attempt to distract yourself.

“Hey, at least talk to me.” The pout is so strong in his tone, you couldn’t help but laugh in shock.

“Excuse me?” You shamelessly smiled toward him, skeptical at his sulking. Seungcheol did this from time to time with you, but him being sad over not getting your attention? This is a new reaction.

“I wanted to see what you were doing here so late, at least talk to me.” He admitted quietly.

One blink. Two blinks. 

“Oh.” You mumbled out stupidly, like you suddenly forgot how to use your mouth. The soft admission made you burn red like a fool, and just like that, he’s taken a pawn. Seungcheol has you in a vulnerable spot.

“What?” A sly smirk curled on the corner of his lips.

Fucking asshole. He knew what he was doing to you, and it seemed to egg him on even more, wanting to elicit more reactions out of you.

“Nothing… I’m just finishing up homework.” You murmured, hoping that’ll suffice. You turned your body away again, trying to tell him you’re done playing verbal chess.

“Finishing? You’ve been staring at the same empty doc for the past… I don’t know, since I’ve been here.” Seungcheol mentioned, his fingers drumming too close to your arms. Your brain immediately rolled in thoughts you should not be thinking about right now.

“Hey. Are you even listening?” He sulked again.

“Sorry, I’m so focused, I don’t ever hear annoying people talking.” You explained, briefly turning your head to glance at him.

“I’m so not annoying, what are you even talking about?” Seungcheol inched closer. It’s almost like he knew what his proximity was doing.

He must be doing such bullshit on purpose. He moved his hand besides yours, your forearms parallel. You can feel a tingling sensation as his eyes dragged down your body. It’s driving you insane, what are his intentions? 

“Yeah? That’s the first stage, denial.” You smiled, proud at your effortless and witty comeback.

Seungcheol let out a weak laugh, an audible sign of defeat. Your heart launched into your throat as he leaned in even more, his cologne a familiar punch to your gut, his breath fanning over your exposed arm. Seungcheol is evil– conniving and evil and so utterly handsome– your friends were more than right.

“Har-har, you really got me there.” Seungcheol murmured lowly, his voice sending pathetic shivers up your spine. He was resting his chin on his palm, which brought his face impeccably closer to yours.

He pulled back slowly, keeping his eyes on you. Your stomach launched into your throat, praying that it didn’t show on your face. 

But the way the smirk curled up on those plush lips of his, he clearly saw right through you. He saw how your eyes diverted like skidding mice, the way your knee stopped bouncing for a mere second, he knew you too well to not see it. 

For a moment you couldn’t breathe in the air of tension, you couldn’t fathom the thought of his eyes peeling back the layers you spent years putting up. When you’re with him, it’s like a fog-dense maze that never ends. Everytime though, he always found a way to end before you, and won your little mind games.

Thankfully, Seungcheol doesn’t comment on it, and you tore your eyes away before they could wander further. You finally occupied yourself with the very much blank document in front of you.

As you typed away, you can’t help but feel that he’s closer than before. His body heat made your arm hairs prick up at the sudden warmth.

If this couldn’t get any worse, you curiously glance back at him. 

He’s already staring. Eyes calculating you before he checkmated your king: your dignity and pride.

A whole body chill struck you, making you snap your head away in urgency. You bit your inner lip to distract you from hysterically screaming, whilst bouncing your knee anxiously once again. 

He leaned in closer now, his arm near your laptop. 

“Did I finally get your attention?” Seungcheol hummed, his voice husky and so awfully warm. The tone running you up straight into a spiral.

“Fuck off, I came here to study by myself.” You managed to mumble back, it came out more meek than you expected.

“Am I not an exception?” Seungcheol frowned, leaning in impeccably closer, like he wanted you to look at him again. His eyes followed your avoidant ones as his breath mingled with the air you breathe, his whole presence beckoning you.

You weren’t stupid, you wouldn’t fall for his manipulating acts. 

“You’re less than an exception, you’re not even an option.” You bitterly comment as you turn your attention back to your laptop.

He let out a low whistle. “Struck a nerve there, didn’t I?”

“I just wanted to be with you.” Seungcheol mumbled, like he was worried the words would land differently.

Okay, you are kind of stupid. You let your eyes reach him again, peeking at him off your right shoulder.

You feel even more stupid, as your heart physically ached when you see him get up. His pointer finger brushing over your knuckle on accident, you hope on accident. 

“I’ll just go if this is the case. See you at home then.” He held your eyes for a beat longer than you expected. It was like he wanted to say more, but was too hesitant.

You didn’t notice how your hand bunched up the fabric of your sweats in that weirdly tense moment. His eyes searched yours, desperately almost; it felt like he was trying to read you, but you were a complicated riddle. He walked off with his back towards you and his friends following him like dogs.

“Fuck.” You muttered once he was out of earshot, burying your face in your hands.

There goes your hour of concentration. Thanks a lot, Choi Seungcheol.

–

Besides Seungcheol bombarding your mind, your friends, Erika and Jennifer, are blowing up your phone. 

They keep on sending inspo pictures of group photos they want to take on their digital cameras. They even have your outfit planned out to the tea. They’re assigning each other roles to make sure any guy, besides Seungcheol, will talk to you.

A nervous flutter rose to your chest as you thought about the party.

So much for studying, you thought. You packed up, stuffing your laptop with the still empty document. You were heading to Erika’s house, which was close to the library.

Erika thoroughly explained how she’s going to do your makeup, and the clothes that she had prepared for you. Pinterest photo after another, you’ve realized there’s no way you can back out now.

Jennifer and Erika ended up arguing on the vibe. Jennifer said chic and simple, nothing too showy or ‘slutty’, but that would be hypocritical… as Jennifer’s best friend is a lethal v-cut neckline. 

Erika strongly pushed for a cowl neckline, with the backless feature. With complimenting tight bootcut jeans that show off the curvature of your ass perfectly. Of course only she would think about what your butt would look like in jeans. 

Though, they came to a conclusion: a micro skirt, that you’re hundred percent sure your butt will be hanging out of. For the top, they managed to battle it out and decided on a simple black tank, with a lacy bra that is not debatable. 

—

Your heart beat thrummed through your skin, your fingers anxiously tapped on the vanity. Erika hovered around you like a humming bird with her hands all over your hair. Jennifer is constantly skipping through songs, trying to find the right vibe. 

An unsettling feeling dwelled in your stomach. 

You’re really doing this, you thought. You’re seriously going to waltz in and flaunt your stuff just to spite Seungcheol. Maybe even kiss another guy, just to show Seungcheol that you don’t want him. Your brain is going down a steep spiral about Seungcheol, and you need a way to get out.

“To be honest guys, I don’t even like Seungcheol like that.” You murmured pathetically, hoping that’ll deter the fire burning in their eyes.

“Like, he always sleeps around and… you know? It's just I don't like… guys like that.” You poorly explained your alibi. It was a futile attempt, sadly earning skeptical looks from them. 

They all know— so do you— that you can't resist the temptations of Choi Seungcheol. Especially being so sexually frustrated, he is a living wet dream for you.

“Excuses, excuses. At least see this as an opportunity to network and have fun, who knows you might be able to network yourself some dick because you’re such a smooth talker.” Jennifer retorted, smudging her eyeliner. 

She sat on the floor, hunched over the mirror and still pressing the skip button. How did she even have any skips left? Erika was still busy running around you with a curling iron. She had meticulously done your makeup, enhancing your features and making you look completely brand new.

You had insisted you can do it yourself, but Erika proclaimed she’s a pro, and she knows what she’s doing. Which she 100% is a pro, as you can barely recognize yourself, in a good way at least.

“Yeah, Jen’s right. Just have fun, don’t think about Seungcheol. Plus he’ll probably be sucking off someone’s face anyways, it’ll ruin your good vibes.” Erika added as she scrunched the cooling curl. 

Erika wasn’t the best at delivering advice, like Jennifer’s blunt demeanor, but hearing that sentence: “sucking off someone’s face”, made your heart sink. You knew it was granted to happen for him, but hearing it aloud hurt even more. It bubbled in your stomach, just to rise and puncture your aching heart.

It was almost like they sensed it, and on cue Jennifer pulled a big ass bottle of Tito’s vodka out of nowhere.

“We should pregame, if you don’t want to, you don’t have to…” Jennifer singed-songed, already pouring herself a shot.

Erika rejected it, and so did you. You rejected because you didn’t want to end up wailing about your feelings, and half because you’d end up way drunk before you even arrived. 

three:

You arrived at the party, the night air nipping at your ankles as you got out. Erika and Jennifer are a couple of steps ahead of you, talking about how they’re not going to drink too much.

Every step you took was met with a sharp pain in your heels. Your hands constantly tugged down your riding skirt. The awful push up bra you have on is digging straight into your ribs, and you feel too vulnerable with your cleavage out. Your friends keep on urging you to take pictures, but your hair keeps on flying into your lip gloss. 

You don't fit here, you feel like a shell of your body. Guys are smoking on the front lawn, girls are already stumbling out even though the party has barely started. You can feel the music before hearing it, thrumming quickly through your pulse. You're met with a conglomerate smell of cologne, weed, and alcohol.

What's worse is as soon as you get eaten by the swarm of people, it's like the lights dim and flash on him.

Seungcheol.

He's talking to the girl you remember who he said gave him sloppy head, or was it another girl? Who knows. Though, he doesn't seem too upset about that. His hand automatically found the small of her back, his thumb brushing over the divot right before the curve of her ass.

Your stomach churned uncomfortably as bile bubbled in the back of your throat. 

His hands are traveling, feeling her, memorizing each dip with the tips of his fingers. A ghost of fingers repeated it on your own frame, your arms wrapped around you sheepishly. Get out of your head, you spoke to yourself.

You involuntarily swallowed as you finally pried your eyes away, you didn't notice how dry your mouth had gotten at the sight of them. Erika looked at you weirdly, tugging on your arm to snap you out of this hypnotized daze.

"Hey, what are you looking at? Hurry, let's get drinks before they all just start tasting like fruit punch and not vodka!" She laughed, her shrill tone dumping the ice cold reality back onto you.

Fuck. You couldn't shake off this gnawing feeling in your stomach. The burning ache in your heart. The indescribable brain fog prevented you from even trying to comprehend how you feel. This isn't jealousy, you painfully remind yourself, you're not even interested in him. He doesn't even want you.

Jennifer placed a drink in your hand, and as she looked away, you've already downed it. The liquid burning down your throat as the alcohol taste sticked on your tongue. You carelessly tossed the cup, groaning at the taste.

"Dude! Are you fucking stupid?" She gaped at you as you wiped the alcohol off your lips.

"I think so." You grumbled back. You get another cup, to occupy your hands for the most part.

Erika and Jennifer keep a wary eye on you, their mouths still ajar in shock. 

—

To your demise, the alcohol hit you hard. You make up an excuse to leave the jungle of dancing people and flying arms. Finding yourself in the dimly lit kitchen, you take this chance to rest against the counter.

Even with all the heaps of alcohol clouding your brain beyond consciousness, the image of Seungcheol standing so intimately with that girl is etched into your brain. You shivered as a phantom finger traced the curve of your waist. It traveled up slowly, like it was memorizing the exact slope of it.

"Why are you here?" The hand wasn't a ghost. It was Seungcheol’s. He was leaning in, scanning your face intently like you were outlandish. Which wasn’t entirely wrong.

A sharp gasp yanked from your chest, the sight of him immediately sobered you up. He has the evil audacity to laugh in your face. His fingers brushed against yours deliberately on the edge of the counter, his left hand holding his cup as he brought it to his lips.

You try not to stare, really, but the way he held eye contact with you as he drank, you couldn't help but watch. You swallow, eyes finally yanking away as soon as you have some decorum.

Seungcheol leaned in again, his cologne making your knees feel like jelly. "Why are you here? This isn't your type of crowd." He asked again while his fingers creeped up onto your tense knuckles, delicately brushing them like he was scared you'll pull away.

"'Cause, I wanted to." You muttered lamely, shamelessly following his touch with your eyes. You watched his fingers brush up your forearms, but you did it mostly to avoid his stare.

"Just 'cause?" Seungcheol teased softly, leaning his head against the cabinets as he looked at you carefully. Almost tenderly. Almost.

"Yeah." The singular word sounded stupidier than you thought. 

Although, you could care less because you’ve already made yourself a fool, for falling in love with someone out of your league. 

When you look back up at Seungcheol, he’s already staring with an intensity you can’t quite put a finger to. Whether it was hunger or perceptive, your skin feels staticky with heat with his eyes on you.

"Whose attention are you trying to get here?" Seungcheol murmured, inching closer, and you pathetically sucked up a breath.

You forget to answer the question, too distracted on how his lips parted when he talked. His words are muddled in the cloud of his cologne and proximity. Your stomach fluttered childishly, and you can’t tell if it’s the alcohol, or simply him. He nudged your knee with his as he inched closer, and your eyes snapped back up to his eyes.

"I said, who are you trying to attract? You look too good tonight." You hated how his voice resonated deep in your gut. How you wished he spoke to you more, and spoke only sweet nothings.

You immediately gave him a cold shoulder, because it didn’t matter if you looked good or bad, he clearly wasn’t interested in you. 

“Nobody in particular.” You admited, but your brain kept on flashing images of Seungcheol with his ‘girlfriends’, reminding why you’re here.

“Oh really? So your skirt is short enough to see your ass just for fun? Hm?” Seungcheol pressed further, his fingertips brushing against yours.

“Hm? Clearly it’s paying off.” You retorted, unsure why it sounded so bitter.

“Oh?” Seungcheol cocked an eyebrow that made your knees almost buckle in. He manuevered to stand in front of you, caging you in against the counter. 

You bite back the gasp that threatened to escape, but he heard your breath hitching. His cologne jumped into your lungs, and infiltrated your mind. His fingers gripped onto the counter beside you, and you didn’t notice how white his knuckles are. Seungcheol held your eyes with an intensity you’ve never seen before, and fuck, you wanted to see it more often.

“I saw when you arrived. Way before you even looked at me. Way before I even– even talked to that girl.” Seungcheol admitted quietly, intimately.

“I saw the way you looked at us.” He murmured, leaning in closer making his voice rumbling in your chest.

“So? You know I hate public display of affection.” You grumbled back, leaning away by the slightest.

“I know.” He stated simply and clearly.

“Okay, if you know, then that’s your answer to my reaction.” You blatantly excuse.

A beat passed, making anxiety bubble in your chest. 

“You’re jealous.” 

Your facade faded immediately like shattered glass. Those two simple words that escaped his lips dug right into your gut. Seungcheol saw the truth flash in your eyes, and like an instant, his face softened.

“Am I right?” Seungcheol said with a slight smile.

“You wish.” You scoffed in retort, turning your head away.

“You’re lying, plus it doesn’t suit you anyways.” He leaned in, tilting your head up with his pointer finger.

“Don’t lie to me.” He whispered over your lips, your hands jumping at your sides.

“Seungcheol—” you attempted to protest, confused and exactly where you wanted to be.

“Why? Why do you do this all the time? Do you think I’m shallow?” Seungcheol held your face with his fingers, stroking your lower lip gently with his thumb. Your breathing picked up at his words, and his implications. You thought you hid your emotions well, that you didn’t care if Seungcheol slept around. Clearly, he saw right through you.

“Well,” you started, but your throat dried up, and you can’t bring yourself to admit it.

Admit that you’ve been daydreaming about him doing things to you, you’d rather die than say such words.

“Well, whatever you're thinking about, stop it.” Seungcheol sighed, pressing his forehead against yours. He dropped his hand from your face, and moved them to your sides. 

Ever so briefly squeezing your hips before wrapping his arms around your waist. You see him shut his eyes, his lashes brushing over the soft skin.

Your brain short circuited at the touch, your hands jumping to his chest. His breath is mingling with yours, his arms feel heavier than you imagined, and god… you love it.

“I’ve been walking on eggshells around you.” Seungcheol confessed gently, his body leaning into yours like he’s seeking your comfort. His admission explained why he’s been ignoring you recently.

“I don’t know how else to approach you… but to do this…” He gestured by squeezing you flush against the firm wall of his chest.

“To at least show you that I like you.” Seungcheol whispered, his eyes fluttered open to catch your widened ones.

“Me?” You stupidly asked.

“You,” Seungcheol answered tenderly, “of course you. You’re so admirable. You…” He sighed, squeezing his arms around you tighter. 

Seungcheol groaned as he buried his face into your neck, making you shiver at the sensation of his breath. It’s ticklish at first, but melded into a soft reminder of his presence.

“You’re so smart, determined, and so perfect in so many ways.” Seungcheol professed, pulling his head out from your neck.

“But you pull away so often– I’m worried if I come off too strong, or you think I’m a horrible person. But I can understand why.” He stated clearly, holding your eyes with unspoken desire.

You’re at a loss for words with a lump in your throat. All Seungcheol did was smile, and it painfully made your heart lurch at how bad you want him. Forget what your friends said, forget disappointment, you want Seungcheol so bad every nerve in your body is jumping to his touch.

“What? You have this look, like you’re seeing a ghost.” Seungcheol’s lips hovered dangerously over yours, his hands cupping your soft cheeks. His thumb stroked over your cheekbone, feeling your skin burn hot under his touch.

“Just… I’m just shocked.” You sputtered out, to at least speak a coherent sentence. Your eyes darted between his lips and eyes, and he smirked at the small gesture. 

“About what?” A cheeky smile grew on his lips, like he knew this was going to be your reaction. 

“That a guy like me is into a girl like you?” Seungcheol leaned in, and with the motion he removed his arms from your waist. They traveled to the counter behind you, caging you in and pressing his hips against yours.

It ellicted a gasp from your lips, with a jolt of arousal blooming between your legs. He mentally took note of your reaction, his teeth sinking down in his lower lip to restrain himself.

“Is it that?” Your eyes snapped up to meet his. Seungcheol’s head is tilted down to meet yours. 

You look down at his lips, hoping he didn’t notice. In which, he very much did. Another smug smirk grew on his face as his hand came to tilt your chin up.

“Tell me, what’s so shocking about me liking you?” His words swirled in your gut, especially the way his eyes held yours with desire. 

“I– It’s not… as simple as you think.” You managed to speak. Your brain and heart were a puddle; your morals are gone, as you just follow this feeling of warmth you’ve dreamt about.

“It isn’t?” Seungcheol mused. Those simple words have your knees shaky, and you swear your heart is beating so fast it’s visible against your chest.

He pressed a finger right in the middle of your forehead. “Your big, beautiful brain must be complicating it, huh?” Seungcheol smiled all knowingly, and somehow you found yourself laughing.

An even bigger smile grew on his lips at the sweet noise. Seungcheol’s heart swelled with an unfamiliar fondness at the sight. He wanted to memorize the way your eyes crinkled and your smile lines deepened with your laugh. Most importantly, he wanted to be the one making you laugh.

“What? Am I right for once?” He wrapped his arm around your waist again, bringing your chest flush against his. The smile didn’t fade from his lips, almost like he was trying to bask in the bubbly mood you were in.

“Maybe.” You shook your head in disbelief, finally meeting his eyes with confidence.

Silence fell over the both of you. Either in agreement or understanding, but a mutual feeling floated between you two.

“I wanna hear more.” Seungcheol admitted, stroking your cheekbone with unexpected tenderness.

“M…more about what?” Your cheeks burn under his touch, his other hand squeezing your hip.

“About what’s going on in that head of yours.” Seungcheol’s hand slid up your spine, wracking a shiver out of you. He pressed your body taut against his, trying to dissapate the space. It worked increasingly well, as the room felt small, that it was just you and him.

“God no, it’d be so embarrassing to admit aloud. To you.” You laugh weakly, your hands deciding to travel on his chest. Firm muscle is all you can feel under your palms, and he’s clearly enjoying the attention. 

“Really? What is it? You think about me in a certain way?” Seungcheol asked while raising a knowing eyebrow.

Your eyes blinked wider, and an immediate blush grew on your cheeks. Your hands froze their travel on his chest and landed on his shoulders to ground yourself.

All he does is laugh, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Seungcheol found you so unbearably cute, pulling back out to look at you with a gummy smile.

“I’m right again, aren’t I?” 

“Fuck off, seriously.” You groaned out, maneuvering out of his arms to escape Seungcheol’s teasing scrutiny. He almost let you, grabbing onto your wrist once you're an arms length away.

“Why?” He whined, tugging you back. “Let's go back home. Leave this stupid party.”

You know what his intentions are, you know damn well. 

And of course you're going to say yes.

—

You’re sheepishly toeing off your kitten heels, feeling shy with his eyes on you for what felt like ages. You’re unsure why he’s staring, but it made your skin flush from your cheeks to your neck.

“What?” You mumbled out, feeling out of place.

“Nothing.” Seungcheol smiled, walking towards you once your heels are finally off.

His hands are back on your body, your heart leaping into your throat. Your eyes expectantly darted over the expanse of his face. He cupped your cheeks, grounding you with the warmth of his palm.

“Can I kiss you?” Seungcheol quietly asked, tilting your head up to meet his lips.

A shaky exhale left your lips as you nod mutely, your hands sliding up his chest. A silent gesture that you want him as bad as he wants you.

Without a second word his lips surged and chased after yours. 

You struggled to keep up with his pace, his hands and mouth all over you. Seungcheol walked you back towards his bedroom, his hands sneaking under your skirt to grab a handful of your ass. In response, you yelped at the sudden sensation of Seungcheol’s hands kneading at your globes, and clamped your thighs around his hand once his ring finger rubbed the hem of your wet panties. 

Seungcheol pried your legs open and wrapped them around his waist, and you easily complied, tightening your legs as he carried you. His hands shoving your shirt under your bra, feeling the slope of your waist and the warmth you're burning.

“God, you don’t wanna know the things I wanted to do when I first saw you.” Seungcheol groaned into your lips. 

You gasped for air, and he easily took it away. Each kiss was going breath for breath, and you couldn’t complain. His teeth dragging down your lower lip, his tongue sliding against yours languidly. You curl into his touch, utterly wrecked and dying for more. You can barely respond with his tongue in your mouth. The way he worked it made you feel all fluttery and lightheaded. 

His hands roamed the expanse of your skin, feeling how your pulse jumped whenever he deepened the kiss. Seungcheol gripped onto you like this was a dream, and he was just trying to ground himself.

A shiver wracked your body as his lips found their way to your neck. His breath tickling your neck just as you imagined, your hands clutching onto his shirt helplessly in response.

"Seungcheol-" you pant out at the sensation. He placed soft, wet kisses along your neck and collarbone.

He hummed against your skin, relishing how your voice vibrated against his lips. He dragged his tongue up the slope of your neck, savoring your perfume and the salty taste of your skin. Seungcheol’s nose nuzzled against your pulse point before nipping and sucking at it. Your breath hitched, your hands gripping on his shoulders to ground yourself.

"I need you to say my name more often." He mouthed into your skin, nipping and sucking a blooming hickey. “It sounds good from your lips.” He mused, pulling back to look at your flushed face.

Your kiss-bitten lips make you even more irresistible. The reddening hickey on your collar was deepening, and a rush of pride flooded through Seungcheol’s system.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you into his lap, pressing his hips up shamelessly. A hot rush flooded your body, your hips jumping in shock, but still dragged along his cock in response. Your eyes blew open in shock, but he just groaned into your neck. He bucked the bulge of his dick right against your clit with a desirable precision, yanking out a sharp gasp from you. A jolt of pleasure made your body shiver, and writhe against his movements. 

"Gonna make you feel so good. So fucking good." His voice was husky and strained. Unable to stop his rutting like a horny teenager, but the way you gasped and rolled your hips when he did, he couldn't hold back. The rough material of his jeans dug into the thin fabric of your panties has you mewling. You’re too distracted to cover your noises, and fuck, he rolled his hips harder to ellict a sharp gasp from your lips.

"Ah- fuck, Seungcheol." You stammered out, trying to ignore the blossoming heat and ache when he rubbed his hips up. He did it slowly and deliberately, dragging it against your needy clit. Your brain already was blanking with the coiling pleasure in your stomach.

"Do you feel how bad I want you?" Seungcheol removed his head away from your neck, his hands gliding on your sides. He played with the bunched up fabric of your tank, admiring how disheveled you looked from his simple ministrations.

You nod, your lips in a tight line of restraint. He can see the way your teeth sink into your lower lip, and you noticed Seungcheol hasn't even looked you in the eye once.

His attention was fully on your mouth, how your lips have a wet sheen of spit, and have that red look after kissing you so intensely, how he pulled out moans after moans.

"I can’t fucking hold back anymore…" He breathed out, his lips on your skin, rolling his hips again. You can't help but chase after that feeling, grinding back onto him. He groaned in response, his eyes glinting with something dark. His hands squeezed  your hips to stop you, or well, to stop himself.

"Let me be inside you. Mouth, finger, dick, whatever you want baby." Seungcheol’s breathing labored, like he's holding back his true power.

The way he’s looking at you like a goddess, like a deity, has you melting into his lap. Your hips weakly squirming on his lap, missing the friction. He weakly laughed, kissing your cheek, and easily rolled his hips back up in a slow movement.

"Should I just take my time with you? Find what you like, since it's your first, hm?" Seungcheol nipped at your jaw, kissing your cheek.

Your stomach flipped as his words were an awful reminder. Yes, this was your first, but it wouldn't be the first time you wished Seungcheol would fuck you so dumb, you would forget your own name. His hands squeezed your hips, as his sneaky fingers dipped into your waistband hesitantly as he waited for you to answer. 

"Yeah- yeah... whatever you... wanna do to me." You mumbled out embarrassingly, and you can see the groan being yanked from his chest. Seungcheol’s eyes fell shut as he buried his face into your chest. He took a deep breath of your scent, nipping at your skin to hide the second groan.

"Fuck..." He practically moaned, his brain working overtime to even process a sane thought.

"Why would you say that?" He whispered, his breath hot against your prickled skin.

"I want that." You murmured, cupping his face to look at you again. That does it. His eyes are glinting with pure adrenaline and desire. He kissed you hard, breathless and hungry.

This wasn't like any kiss you had before, they were always tentative and timid. This kiss is fueled with desire and pure lust as his teeth crash against yours carelessly. There was practically no air between you two, with his nose smashed against your cheek. His hands gripping you with a tightness that'll leave you with bruises, that you are more than thankful for.

He flipped you in his lap so easily, it made your brain spin at his sheer strength. His breath tickled your ear as you pressed your back against his chest.

"If you want it so bad, baby, then watch me do it." He whispered into your ear, and fuck, your thighs clamped immediately. 

He let out a laugh, “Not so confident now, are you?” 

He nipped at the shell of your ear as he cooed sweet nothings, not helping the already soaked part in your panties. He pried your legs back open like he owned them, his fingers rubbing circles into your clammy inner thighs.

His fingertips alone on your skin have you already squirming and feeling hot. You've spent too many nights dragging your fingers along your body, wishing it was Seungcheol's instead.

"Baby, watch." He whined gently, prodding his nose against your cheekbone. 

Your eyes shoot up to the floor length mirror in front of you. It's dim in his room, but the bedside lamp illuminated the room more than enough. 

You can see how much bigger Seungcheol is than you, how he has his whole body draped over you. The light showed each shadow of his muscle on his biceps, making his jaw sharp as he whispered praises. And most importantly the bulge of his thick cock tucked in his pants. You simply shake your head, swallowing your dry mouth at the thought of his dick.

"Are you watching?" Seungcheol murmured, his hands trailing your body slowly, giving you no idea where he'll put them.

He took his time, kissing your neck while memorizing each crook, each shiver, each gasp he took out when he touched a sensitive part. Seungcheol pulled your shirt off, tossing it away like it was covered in acid. His hand stroked your stomach, and went to take off your bra. He unclasped it with a familiar precision that made your heart twist. He must have done it regularly to do it with such ease. His actions immediately shut up your thoughts, as he circled your aerola with his pointer finger.

The soft, ghost-like sensation has you squirming pathetically. He smiled wickedly, kissing and licking the shell of your ear.

His breath fanned cold against your damp skin, your hands balling up into fists at the feeling. 

“Feel good?” He murmured, his voice rumbling in your chest.

You helplessly nod, your hips flexing for any pressure on your weepy cunt. He took note of it, but did nothing to help you, enjoying the way you withered under his touch so easily. Seungcheol continued to drag his pointer finger languidly around your hardening nipple, never really touching it.

Heat pooled in between your legs, everything feeling fuzzy from the alcohol and adrenaline. It enhanced the way the rough pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple at a torturous pace. That simple gesture made you writhe under his touch so easily. His other hand ran down your stomach, making it flex in anticipation. 

He stopped right at the waistband of your skirt, his breathing surprisingly even against your cheek.

“You see how beautiful you are?” Seungcheol practically purred, admiring how wrecked you already look. 

Seungcheol brushed your stomach with his thumb, playfully dipping his nail into your navel before toying with the band of your skirt. He eventually took it off, leaving you in only your panties.

“Say yes.” He murmured, nipping at your jaw. At first, your throat seemingly didn’t work. But when he returned his fingers to roll and tug at your hardened nub between his pointer and thumb, a sharp gasp yanked from your lips. 

“Y-yes.” You breathed out shakily, still lust-clouded. He noted how your stomach caved in the mirror at the touch, a sly grin growing on his lips.

“Such a good girl. You listen so well.” He praised quietly.

His hand dipped past your waistband, making you tense in anticipation. His fingers applied pressure past your bladder, down to your mons pubis, massaging down there for a moment. You whined impatiently, making Seungcheol’s smirk ghost on your cheek. The sudden pressure on your clit made your thighs twitch, his lips kissing your neck to distract you. 

Slowly, he coaxed out moans from your lips. The pad of his finger rubbed the sensitive nub in circles. His hand returned back to toy with your hardened nipple, flicking it lightly compared to the pressure on your clit. The touch on your puffy clit has you withering so easily. The noises of pleasure push at your bitten lips, and it just pet Seungcheol’s ego. 

He’s the one doing this to you, he’s the one watching you unravel, he’s the one.

His finger left your chest and tapped your jaw, returning your attention back to your face in the mirror. He’s already watching you squirm in his lap with heavy lidded eyes.

“Don’t take your eyes off.” Seungcheol commanded, pressing harder on your clit and making you jump. “I’ll show you who knows this pussy the best.”

His words of promise made you pathetically whimper. Seungcheol smirked at your reaction, keeping his cheek pressed against your, making sure you watched him. Seungcheol ran two fingers down your weepy folds, smearing your arousal around. 

“God– so wet already.” He kissed your temple, a stark tender gesture.

You can only whimper in response, already flooded with pleasure that buzzed under your skin. Seungcheol pressed a digit against your entrance, spreading your slick onto your puffy folds. His thumb worked on your achy, needy clit; watching you with hungry eyes through the mirror. 

Your hands balled up the material of his jeans to steady yourself in the pool of pleasure. You can’t help but shut your eyes, and relish the feeling. He already has you gasping and mewling at the sensation like a needy little thing.

His finger tapped on your jaw again, your eyes snapping back to the mirror. You were so lost in the sensation, you forgot to abide by his rule.

Suddenly, Seungheol’s hand goes still, making your hips twitch needily. An upset whine fell from your lips, and he just tapped on your jaw again, a silent reminder.

“W-what? What happened…” You helplessly pant out, confused and so utterly horny. Your core aches at the loss of him, a throbbing ghost-like sensations on your clit.

“Baby, I said watch.” There’s a demanding grit to his tone that sent a shiver up your spine. So scarily so, it made you swallow thickly in panic, and nod.

“Y-yes. Okay, I- I will.” You responded back, so eager to please and to get pleased.

“Say it.” Seungcheol stated bluntly, earning a dumbfounded look from you.

“Say… say what?”

“Say what you want from me.” He rephrased, his thumb rubbing lazily on your clit. The touch made you whimper, and he immediately pulled back, wanting to hear you plead.

You flushed a deep pink, and he simply smiled. Those annoyingly charming dimples deepened, making you whine in protest.

“Beg you mean?” You groaned at the thought.

“Should I have said that in the first place? Did you want me to say: beg for how badly you want my fingers inside this wet pussy?” He mused, that shit eating grin never leaving his lips. Seungcheol’s clearly enjoying the way you squirm and blush at the sight of him touching you with your panties on.

You tensed up at his words, your pussy aching so desperately now. You could have sworn he felt the hot trickle of arousal drip down your thighs, making him smirk all knowingly.

“No– no… I understood.” You scrambled to say, trying to grapple back your dignity.

“Then beg.” He sternly commented, his voice was low against your ear. Your body shivering at the thought of his touch.

“Please… please I need your fingers.” You pathetically attempted, your eyes stuck on him in the mirror. 

“Where, baby?” Seungcheol tugged down your panties and tossed them carelessly, baring your hot folds to the air.

“In… inside me.” You answered meekly, hoping that’ll be enough.

“Good job, beautiful.” Seungcheol murmured, not needing another word as his fingers were already working again. His pointer finger left your jaw, hoping you’ll behave this time.

His lips returned to the sensitive spot he found earlier, Seungcheol’s hands trailed down your stomach which made you twitch in anticipation. Your weepy cunt is getting his jeans all wet, so Seungcheol manuevered your legs, hooking them over his forearms. Your glossy folds are exposed in the mirror, the light glinting against your arousal.

“Aren’t you so fucking gorgeous? Spread open just for me, huh?” Seungcheol remarked as his pointer figner traveled down to spread your folds open. 

He rubbed his middle finger along your slit, and went back up to draw circles around your clit. A shaky exhale escaped your lips at the gentle, tentative touch. He hummed, pressing his lips against your cheek, nipping at the skin for your attention. You understood what he wanted, and turned your head to meet his lips. 

The pad of his finger rubbed on your entrance, and you couldn’t take it anymore, rutting against it helplessly. He finally slid it inside, curling upwards and immediately finding the sweet spot. A sharp gasp left your lips, and he swallowed it hungrily in the kiss.

Pleasure coiled tightly in your stomach, as he relentlessly rubbed his finger against that spongy point. His thumb pressed rhythmically against your clit, making you squirm and writhe in his grip.

He pulled away from the kiss, “Watch baby.” Seungcheol painstakingly reminded you, but continued thrusting and curling his finger against that spot. 

It felt impossible to focus on anything else but the delicious pleasure he’s giving you. But you didn’t want him to stop, so your eyes dragged back to the mirror.

The sight of his digit, knuckle deep inside you, has you dripping even more. You watch how his digit slid into your slicked cunt with no resistance. With a second finger in, you didn’t last long. The way they curled against your slick walls and pressed incessantly against a spot has you seeing stars. Your stomach already grew taut with pleasure ready to snap.

The sound of his fingers moving in and out your dripping entrance were matching up with each gasp and whine that escaped you. Your hips bucked and twitched everytime Seungcheol deliberately pressed on that spongy spot inside you.

“Close?” He asked, but he knew the damn answer. He just wanted you to admit it, that he’s the one making you come.

You nod sharply, “Yes– ngh– coming-” you pathetically rasped out.

Seungcheol doubled his efforts, his lips attacking your neck, as his digits thrusted and pressed harder against your sweet spot. The sensation is overwhelming as pleasure hit you in waves. He worked harder to pull out gasps and whines, relentlessly abusing your g-spot with attention.

Your moans died on your tongue as you clamped around him tightly. A rush of pleasure wracking your body as you tensed up on his lap. Your release spilled onto his jeans, leaving an even bigger wet spot than before. He watched you come undone with a hungry glint, rubbing your clit as you came down. 

He whispered sweet nothings into your ear, making your orgasm feel all fluttery and warm. 

“Such a good job, you came so beautifully.” He cooed and dropped your limp legs, tilting your head to meet his lips.

The kiss was slow and rewarding, your pants being swallowed by his groans. 

Once you two pulled away, he lifted you up effortlessly, and laid you on your back. 

It was his turn to take off his clothes. As he tugged off his shirt, your wandering hands fumbled to pull off his jeans.

He laughed at how cute you were, with that face of determination but yet frustration. Eventually, he kicked off his jeans and boxer in one smooth motion. 

Now that he was fully naked, something wasn’t adding up. His dick laid against a patch of trimmed hair, way smaller than you imagined. Your brain was straining, and replaying the shrill moans the girls he was fucking.

“You’re smaller than I thought.” The words fell off your tongue before you could register. 

He raised an eyebrow up, and settled between your thighs. He scanned your face one more time, to find any sarcasm, but your confusion was genuine. Maybe you had too high of expectations, but he’s standing tall at around four or five inches.

Noting that you were very serious, Seungcheol laughed. A proud smile on his lips, “It won’t feel that small.” 

Your stomach fluttered at his retort. He leaned in close enough his breath was fanning over your ear.

“See for yourself.” Seungcheol reached out for your hand, guiding it to his cock. 

You tenatively stroked your hand around his length, squeezing before you dragged it back up. He groaned in response, urging you to do more.

Before you know it, his cock laid fully erect, and… looked like a fucking weapon. The puzzle pieces finally clicked in your head, he was a fucking grower.

Your lips part in shock, and all he does is smile. He slides his cock against your sticky folds, gathering up your arousal to coat his length.

“Why are you so quiet now? Hm?” He prodded, pressing his tip against your entrance. Seungcheol continued the action, sliding his cock through your slick folds, making sure it caught at your puckered entrance.

“Ah– didn’t– I didn’t expect that.” You mumbled out, squirming as he continued to rub his tip on your entrance.

“You didn’t? Seungcheol hummed, tilting his head as he dragged his cock through your folds, purposefully tapping the tip on your clit. 

You gasp, your legs squeezing his sides from the direct pressure on your sensitive clit. Seungcheol does it again, and again until you finally sputter out helplessly.

“No– no I didn’t.” You scrambled to say, your mind already stirring with pleasure. You helplessly pushed your hips up, and he stopped the attention on your clit.

He tutted, spreading your legs wider with his thighs, and used his thumbs to expose your dripping pussy.

“Look at this greedy thing… Soaking wet and I haven’t even put my cock in you yet.” He mused, his thumb rubbing next to where you really need him. 

You bite your lower lip, trying to restrain yourself from saying or doing anything crazy. You wanted to be good for him.

“Does your pussy want my dick?” Seungcheol pushed his thumb inside, pressing on your walls. 

A sharp moan escaped your lips, your thighs twitching at the sudden touch. Seungcheol used his thumb to open you wider, holding the head of his cock against your fluttering hole.

“Answer me.” Seungcheol said firmly, his thumb insistently rubbing on a spot that makes your words catch in your throat.

“Yes– god- please. Seungcheol, I want it.” You gasped out.

“Want what? Use your words, I know you’re a smart girl.” 

A dark blush grew on your cheeks, still squirming as his thumb rubbed against your gummy walls. 

“I want… your cock, please.” You begged pliantly.

He groaned at your words, kissing you deeply before removing his thumb.

He broke the kiss to press his forehead against yours, and slowly pushed himself in. The stretch burned, making you clamp around him, a strangled gasp escaping your lips. He kissed your noises away, trying to distract you.

He pulled away to latch his lips against your nipple, making your arch unexpectedly into his mouth. His free hand pinched the other hardened peak, and took the chance to slide a couple inches deeper.

“Relax for me, promise, I’ll make you feel good.” He murmured, capturing your lips once again in a hazy tangle.

Every small thrust Seungcheol made, created your body to go rigid, your lips parting in a ghost of a moan.

“Doing okay?” Seungcheol asked with attentive eyes, his hands sliding along your body appreciatively.

You managed to nod, flushing under his stare.

His control was slipping slightly, from the way you were gripping onto him so tightly whenever he moved, Seungcheol couldn’t take it anymore.

With a bit of his cock left, he filled you up to the hilt, a gasp yanking from your lips. You felt so full, the wind was knocked out of you, and you can feel each vein throbbing against your velvet walls.

Seungcheol rolled his hips, eliciting a sharp gasp from you. He kissed your neck, his hands stroking along your frame. The pleasure is already building up in your stomach, and your skin burned hot when he started whispering sweet praises into your ear.

“Fuck- you feel so good.” Seungcheol groaned, slowly dragging his cock along your fluttering walls.

His hands roamed on your body, his lips met your jaw as he continued the relentless grinding. With his experimental rolls, he found a spot that made you gasp and clench around him. An immediate smirk grew on his face as he deliberately rolled his hips into that spot. 

“Right here? Does it feel good?” Seungcheol pulled back, continuing to rut his hips into that spot. He watched your face contort blissfully with pleasure.

“Ah- yes– fuck, Seungcheol!” You sobbed out as he dragged his cock back before slamming back in, hitting even deeper.

Your pussy gushed with arousal around his length, his hands holding you by your hips and his thumbs dug into your bladder. Your back arched as the pleasure struck you like a lightning bolt, your vision going bleak.

You immediately clamped around him at the pressure, making him groan lowly. He pounded into you a bit faster, pulling you down on his cock quicker.

“Fuck, your pussy is sucking on my cock so greedily.” Seungcheol grimaced, trying to hold himself back. 

 “Do you need more, hm? Can you take more, baby?” He pulled back before slamming in deeper, and grinding the head of his cock against your g-spot.

A sharp cry yanked from your lips, his thumbs returning the pressure on your bladder. He simply rolled his hips against that spot incessantly.

“Poor baby can’t even speak, can you?” He leaned down, his lips hovering over yours. Seungcheol massaged your stomach again, feeling you clamp down on his cock desperately.

He smirked, crashing his lips against yours as he picked up the pace. Fucking you with renewed energy that has you shifting up the bed. 

Pleasure struck your body hard, your clit throbbing painfully as he pressed on your bladder harder.

“C-close-” Is all you can croak out, your brain long gone due to the sheer pleasure fogging your senses.

That one word is the only thing Seungcheol needs before he fucked you precisely into the same spot, making you shout and moan his name. His free hand pinching your clit, making you clamp even tighter around his girthy cock. His other hand stayed flat, applying pressure on your bladder.

“Y’ gonna squirt for me? Show me, baby, show how good I’m making you feel.” Seungcheol punctuated his words with his thrusts, the heel of his palm digging straight into your bladder, making you sob out.

That was all it took, and you squirted with a shout. Your juices flooding down your thighs and jumping to your stomach. Seungcheol’s thrusts were getting sloppy at how tight you were sucking onto him, wet squelching noises filling the room. Tears of pleasure streaking down your perfect makeup as you arching into his chest. Seungcheol grunted as you desperately milked his cock, but he held back, trying to lengthen your orgasm. 

Once you were shaking and squealing after every shallow thrust, he pulled out and crashed his lips against yours. His tongue felt hot as it dragged along yours, you helplessly stuck your tongue back to reciprocate, still floating from the post orgasm.

Your brain was lightheaded as Seungcheol took away your breath with the kiss, and as he swallowed each pant and plea from your plush lips. Seungcheol manhandled your limp body and flipped you onto all fours with ease. 

“Tell me if it's too much, ‘kay? Gonna fuck you stupid. Gonna show you who really owns this pussy. Sounds good?” Seungcheol spread your legs with his knees, and tugged your ass cheeks apart to reveal your puffy, swollen pussy.

He spanked your clit with his fingers. You jolt at the sensation, a shaky cry escaping your lips. The pain made your core drip at the sting, the rush of adrenaline made your skin feel staticky. You dreamt of this, his roughness and experience, making you tip over the edge, feeling absolutely wrecked. 

“Ngh- please-” You pant, burying your face into the pillows that smell like his cologne and scalp. You helplessly pushed up your hips and he groaned, harshly rubbing on your clit.

“You want that, huh?” He smirked, continuing to press cruelly on your clit. You're too orgasm-dazed, but you know you need him inside again. You weakly can imagine the way his cock dragged against your fluttery walls, your cunt dripping and gaping around nothing.

You nod erratically into the pillows with incoherent mumbles, pushing up your hips desperately. He groped the round of your ass, rutting his cock into your folds and gathered slick once again. After whining impatiently and rolling your hips back, he laughed and complied.

He aligned his cock back with your entrance, and pushed back in with one full thrust.

A sharp sob yanked out from your chest, your body arching to accommodate his length. 

“Fuck… look at you, so greedy still. Even made you come twice and you're still as fucking tight.” He pulled back, thrusting in an inch each time. He pulled out further, and harshly thrusted back in, earning a whine from you.

“Trust me, baby, I’ll make you beg me to stop.” Those words made you groan, nodding absently at that promise.

All he does is chuckle, gripping onto your hips so tight, you’re sure it’ll bruise. At first he moved slowly, searching for a spot that’ll make you gasp. He leaned over, kissing your exposed neck, down the column of your spine. When he rutted his hips deeper, a sharp, guttural moan escaped you, your body arching back onto his desperately. 

“Ngh– fuck– there, Seungcheol.” You rasped out, hands digging into the bedsheets.

“I got you, baby.” He placed open-mouthed kisses down your back. He started picking up the pace, and he pulled out to slam straight into the spot that makes you see stars. 

At some point, each thrust was straight at that toe-curling spot. Your vision went bleak from the pleasure, then a sharp cry coming from your lips as he spanked your right cheek. 

The tingling sensation amplifying the way his hips slapped against your ass with each thrust. His hand soothed over the blooming red spot, “Too much?” He checked in.

You shook your head, babbling something incoherent afterwards, too lost in the pleasure. He groaned, kneading your plush ass before fucking you faster. 

“Too fucked out to respond, you’re so cute.” Seungcheol mumbled, more to himself, as his hands glided along your body appreciatively.

A sharp whine escaped your lips, your body arching like a cat as you buried your face into his pillows. 

Your sobs are muffled against the pillow, but he can make out: “‘m coming- ‘m close–!”

He wrapped his arm around your neck, lifting you up slightly in a chokehold. His bicep flexed around your head, holding you up right and higher to pound into you deeper.

He grunted behind his bitten lip, giving you more. 

“Come on baby, come for me.” He huffed, pounding into you harder, deeper.

Your lips part, in a ghost of a moan, your body going taut before your legs slightly give up. 

You start shaking when he doesn’t pull out, instead his free hand wrapped around your torso, pulling you flush against his chest. He tightens his chokehold around your head, your cheeks being squished by his muscles.

You swear you see heaven when he briefly adjusted the pressure to your throat. Your pussy spasming, and dripping like a fucking faucet.

“Shit– baby, you’re so fucking messy.” He grimaced, using his other free hand to hook under your knee.

Stars prick your vision at how deep he’s going, the overstimulation bringing you close to another impending orgasm. Your sloppy cunt took his cock like it was meant for him, the wet squelching noises filling the room along with the rhythmic sound of skin meeting skin. You clamped around his cock helplessly, gasping his name like a prayer and clutching onto his bicep.

Tears brink your glazed over eyes, his teeth sinking down onto your shoulder, insinuating his upcoming orgasm. 

“Don’t hold back baby,” He rasped out, fucking into deep spots, you never knew could be reached in sex, in this new position.

You let out a pitiful sob, throwing your head back against his shoulder and he groaned as your tight heat gushed around him. He continued to thrust deeper, chasing his orgasm with intensity.

Your body shook, your head blank as all you can think about is how his cock is destroying you in half. 

He finally came with a grunt, his teeth digging into your shoulder hard enough to break the skin. His release painted your walls white with the ropes of cum, as he filled you to the brim. 

He let you down slowly and carefully, pulling out once he finished coming.

Your brain was foggy, but you felt how he kissed your cheek tenderly before leaving the bed, making the mattress shift under the loss of his weight.

Seungcheol came back with a warm, wet towel, and adjusted you on your back. He comfortably set a pillow under your head and lower back.

“Hey, are you doing okay? Was I too rough?” He cupped your face, wiping away the tears on his cheek.

All you did was nod, your throat felt stripped after screaming from pure pleasure. You can see a smile growing on his lips, and he settled between your legs, wiping away the mixture of liquids.

“Just you wait– gonna do something.” He murmured, more to himself because you’re already dozing off.

—

You wake up in new sheets, new clothes, and… a new warmth that doesn’t come from the blanket.

It’s Seungcheol.

The weight of his arm draped over you is comforting, and it’s something you could get used to. Your eyes fluttered back shut, relishing the morning sun on your face. 

Seungcheol shifted beside you, his arm on your waist moved up, and he pulled you in closer.

“Sore?” He asked, his voice heavy with sleep.

“Yeah… really sore.” You let out a weak laugh, and when you flutter your eyes open again, you’re met with a sulking Seungcheol.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled, showering kisses all over your face in compensation.

“No– I… I really liked it. Like feeling… spent.” You admitted, and he wished you didn’t. 

“Baby, why…” He whined as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

You kind of wondered what Seungcheol would be like after sex, and you're more than thankful he’s clingy.

“It’s the truth.” You mumbled, stroking his brown locks.

“Okay, as long as you don’t lie to me.” He pulled back to look you in your eyes.

You smiled automatically at the sight of him, and he physically softened, returning you with a gummy smile.

He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, “Hey, thanks for letting… me be your first.” 

The admission was quiet, hesitant almost, but he looked shy more than anything.

“Oh. That…” The same smile stuck on your face, and you cupped his puffed up cheeks with a tenderness he didn’t expect. His eyes slightly widening when he met your sweet, crinkled at the corner, eyes. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my first.” You murmured, brushing your finger over his eyebrow.

“Well, I’m honored.” He grinned, kissing the corner of your lips, then the corner of your eye.

You can now admit, that sex with Seungcheol is fucking heavenly, but only you can say that the morning after, is even better.

a/n2: thank you for finishing this fic!!! hopefully you can taste my blood sweat and tears in it.... i'm also so thankful to the positive feedback i got on my teaser, it really motivated me to write. so thank you guys for being so supportive! sorry if i missed anyone in the taglist!! its not a personal thing... this was all stressful for me lmfao so please... cut me some slack.

TAGLIST: @cherrylovescheol , @hanniebub , @supi-wupi , @jaja-salute , @gyuguys , @kumoryuuxx , @kyeomiis , @bramos91 , @joongtime , @yonchi , @logofiliogy , @In-the-getawaycar , @jeonghoneyoon , @leicy0756 , @woozilovespinkunderwear , @withaguiltyconscience

[gyuhao5]

You knew whatever you and Jeonghan were doing wasn’t real—not really. But a part of you had started to wonder. You could feel that same warmth you’d come to resent starting to bloom, and it scared you.

pairing jeonghan x f!reader word count 24.2k tags non-idol au, college au, fake dating, enemies? to friends to lovers, humor, angst, jealousy, conflict, jeonghan being a menace, pet names, dom!jeonghan, sub!reader, teasing, a lot of making out, dry humping, fingering, big!dick jeonghan, unprotected sex, riding, missionary, hickeys, creampies, cock warming, multiple smut scenes, grinding, spanking, mention of dacryphilia, love making warnings smut, cursing, alcohol, mentions of smoking

thank you @sanaxo-o @nerdycheol for beta reading ♡

💌 check out my masterlist

You were always intimidated by Yoon Jeonghan. From the moment you first saw him in class you could tell he thought everyone was below him. The way he paraded around campus with that shit-eating grin on his face, perfect pink lips always knowing just what to say. His brown eyes seemed to always seek you out for some reason, as if he purposely wanted to get on your nerves.

So, right there and then, before even having spoken a single word to him, you decided to avoid him at all costs. 

You didn’t pay him any mind for the rest of the year, blocking him out whenever you happened to catch sight of him, or whenever you heard his stupid voice in any of the shared classes you were in.

It isn’t until the second year or college that you’re forced to interact with him for the first time, being grouped together for an assignment.

Now if that wasn’t bad, you curse your luck once you realize one of the other guys in your group happened to be your lifelong crush out of all people, the loud Kwon Soonyoung.

You didn’t even know he’d been taking the same class as you, as for you hadn’t even seen him once since the start of the semester. 

The worst part of it all is finding out he and Jeonghan seemed to be the best of friends, laughing amongst themselves as they entered the study hall. The last guy, Lee Seokmin, jogged behind them to catch up to them, a wide smile on his face whilst hitting Soonyoung’s shoulder. 

Just great. He was a part of their little clique as well. 

You'd walked into the study hall almost confidently, thinking you were adult enough to deal with Yoon Jeonghan. But Soonyoung? Your stomach churned with anxiety.

Soonyoung's eyes lit up as soon as he saw you, catching you off guard with a sudden, friendly hug. 

"You know y/n?" Seokmin cocked up his eyebrows, watching his older friend nearly crush a seemingly random girl from class. 

"Of course! We went to elementary and middle school together." he smiled, finally letting go of you. You hoped they couldn’t tell just how flustered the embrace had made you, your eyes blinking as you tried to regain composure.

“What a crazy coincidence! I didn’t know we’re going to the same college,” Soonyoung chuckled, shrugging off his backpack before mindlessly taking a seat next to you. 

You almost pouted at his words. Whilst you were very aware of his presence, Soonyoung didn’t seem to have been aware of yours.   

“Yeah, crazy.” you laughed it off, trying not to sound too awkward. “I didn’t know you were in this class…” you trailed off, blindly opening your laptop. 

Seokmin exhaled an amused breath. “Because he skips all his classes.” he said, taking a seat next to Soonyoung. 

“Hey, not all… I just hate Business Management.” the boy sighed, pouting as he rummaged through his worn down backpack. 

You fought a smile hearing them banter, shyly looking down at your laptop screen. 

"Alright, if the little reunion is over let's just start and get this over with, hm?" Jeonghan grumbled, forced to sit on the other side of you.  

You tried not to roll your eyes, the two others simply humming in agreement.

It took a near hour to decide on a solid plan, taking note of all the important topics and details. The dynamic between the group of friends had you surprisingly amused to say the least, catching yourself chuckling along to the little jabs the friends aimed at each other. 

"Okay, so, Seokmin," Jeonghan pointed his pen at him. "You will pick a company to help us with formulating three products." his pen moved to Soonyoung. "You'll design the logo of our website and the color scheme." 

The ball point pen moved to you now. "y/n, you'll design our website. Just pick some template on one of those website builders. Make it look pretty, but please, no pink." he sighed.

Your lips pressed together, feeling slightly agitated at his words. Make it look pretty, you're sure he was aware of how condescending he sounded, not even acknowledging the fact your major was software development. 

"What will you do, hyung?" Soonyoung asked, and you were more than curious to know this too.

Jeonghan clicked his pen, looking over at his friend. 

"I'll set up the meetings, oversee all your work and help where help is needed." he said, slumping in his chair. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

The two others seemed content with his answer. You didn’t argue with that, not having the energy over some stupid class you didn’t even care for. 

"Alright then." Seokmin clapped his hands together loudly, earning the attention of a few other students in the study hall. "Since Jeonghan hyung seems in such a rush to leave, let's meet up again next week?" he asked. You nodded, grabbing your backpack to put away your stuff.

"I'll make a group chat." Seokmin added, looking over to you briefly. You hummed, giving him a small smile of acknowledgement. 

Jeonghan left first, and you walked out the study hall with the two other boys by your side. 

"Oh my god, I'm so happy to see you!" Soonyoung nudged your shoulder lightly, gripping the straps of his backpack while he walked with you. You chuckled shyly. "Yeah, me too." 

You chose not to tell him how you’ve seen him around campus countless times, feeling like a bit of a loser at the way you’d been keeping your eye on him like a young girl with a schoolgirl crush—and in a way you were just that.

"We should hang out! Do you live on campus?" he asked. You made eye contact with him, smiling at his question. "I’m over at the sorority. Are you guys in the fraternity together?" 

The boys nodded. "We all are." Seokmin told you. 

"You should come to the party tomorrow, it'll be fun!" Soonyoung said. 

You'd sworn off drinking a while ago, not wanting it to get in the way of your studies, yet the offer sounded convincing enough, and the thought of getting closer to Soonyoung made your chest thump. 

"Ahh, come on! Don't tell me you've never been to one of our parties before." Soonyoung grinned when you paused, fully turning his body to you. 

A laugh escaped your mouth. "Well, I haven't. But... since you asked," you flashed him a smile, their sounds of approval hitting your ears. 

"Perfect! We'll see you there, y/n." Seokmin smiled.

Your friend sneaked an arm around your waist, pulling you into her body while the two of you walked to the fraternity a few blocks over. 

"I can't believe you're finally coming with me!" Your best friend Jaehee declared loudly. She squeezed your hip. "You have to see Mingyu tonight, he's so fucking fine. We’ve been texting for days now!" 

You rolled your eyes playfully, not too keen on meeting one of her flings again. 

When the two of you entered the fraternity, the notorious ΙΖ', you were immediately greeted by the luring smell of alcohol and weed. The large body of people were scattered all around the extensive common room, most grouped together chatting with their respective friends in the open space between the kitchen and living room. 

Your face scrunched a bit trying to adjust to the loud music, your friend immediately dragging you to a corner where a group was hanging out.

"Jae!" the loud voices greeted your friend excitedly, the tallest of them instinctively putting an arm around her. 

She welcomed them with a smile, moving to pull you right next to her. "Guys, this is y/n!” she grinned. “y/n, this is Mingyu," she looked at the handsome boy next to her before pointing to the others. "Joshua, Eunwoo and Jeonghan." You made eye contact with Jeonghan, his big eyes already staring back at you.

"Hi y/n, it’s nice to meet you. Did you finally decide to join us?" Joshua smiled, giving your shoulder a small squeeze. You met his gaze, his sweet eyes resembling those of crescent moons as he smiled at you.

You didn’t know whether to feel thankful your friend had seemingly been so openly talking about you, but you were happy you were being welcomed so warmly. You returned his smile, nodding before speaking, "Yeah... It looks like you got quite the party here." you chuckled. 

"I told you it'd be fun!" Jaehee lighty shoved you, a loud voice suddenly interrupting your conversation. 

"Hey! You made it!" Soonyoung squeezed between you and Joshua, a smile on his sweet face while he settled his gaze on you. Your body instantly became warm, and you swallowed a lump in your throat not knowing what to say. You could tell by the flush on his cheeks he was a few drinks ahead of you. 

"Let's take a shot!" he exclaimed happily, handing you a full shot glass you hadn’t seen him hold before. His gaze turned a bit more serious as if he realized something, hectic eyes frantically looking around as his lips pressed together in a tight line. 

His eyes lit up as soon as a certain person walked by, and he snatched a full glass of booze from their hands with an innocent giggle. "Thanks Jihoonie!" he laughed, earning him a blank stare from the guy, who carried on walking, uninterested. 

You laughed as he clinked his glass against yours, downing the entire cocktail down quickly. You watched him for a second before deciding to take the shot, the bitter taste making you cringe. 

The group in front of you didn’t seem too concerned by what was happening, already wrapped back up in whatever conversation they had before you and Jae joined them. 

"You want another? Or maybe a mixed drink? I’m good at those," Soonyoung put his hand on your shoulder, looking at the kitchen for a moment before settling his hazy eyes back on you. 

“If you don’t make it too strong,” you smiled timidly, the words leaving your lips before you could even think them over. Soonyoung gave you a sharp nod, disappearing into the crowd.

Your eyes briefly met Jeonghan again before clumsily looking over at your friend, who seemed too busy to talk to you.

“You know Soonyoung?” Joshua closed the space between the two of you again, face angled down close to yours.

You nodded. “We went to the same school when we were kids,” you told him, playing with the empty shot glass in your hands. He chuckled. “Wow, what a coincidence.” He took a drag of his vape, the fruity cloud of smoke dancing above you. You nodded. “Yeah, we were grouped together for a Business Management project.”

“Business Management? Doesn’t Jeonghan also take that class?” he looked over to his friend, who looked up at the mention of his name. You nodded, telling him Jeonghan and Seokmin were all in your group as well.

“Good luck with that.” Joshua grinned knowingly. “I wouldn’t be able to focus much with those three bickering all the time.” he snickered, looking at his friend who just rolled his eyes.

You smiled. “So far so good.” You hoped to at least get a smile from the boy in front of you, deciding the grudge you held against him might have been a little unfair to him. But Jeonghan dismissed your kindness by ignoring you completely, instead saying something to Eunwoo beside him.

You resisted the urge to show your newfound irritation, shifting your attention back to Joshua.

From the corner of your eye you saw Eunwoo nod, and the two of them left quietly, leaving you four in the corner.

Joshua really knew how to make you feel comfortable, striking up a conversation with you about your majors and some of your interests, the exchange soon shifting into your shared hobby of baking.

When Mingyu and Jae disappeared after a heated make out session you and Joshua briefly cringed at, the two of you were the only ones left. Joshua soon dragged you to the backyard to smoke, joking alcohol made him crave cigarettes.

You were seated on one of the couches outside, a full glass of alcohol in your hand that one of the hosts, Joshua’s friend, had poured you—reminding you of the drink Soonyoung had promised you before, most likely, drunkenly having forgotten about it.

Just shortly after the realization you coincidentally spotted him, and your stomach turned when you saw what exactly was going on. Soonyoung was making out with some girl on the other side of the garden, tongue and all, making you see green with jealousy. 

Your innocent crush might’ve not been completely innocent—not when the sight in your peripheral vision impacted you this much.

Your glass was empty now, and you set it on the table in front of you to push yourself up. This caught the attention of Joshua, who’d been busily chatting with the random people you’d grouped up with outside for the last half hour.

“Are you leaving?” Joshua put his hand around your wrist, looking up at you with a frown on his face.

“I don’t feel so good, I need some water,” you told him, making him loosen his grip on you. You had this weird urge to isolate yourself—to flee. “Are you okay? I can get it for you.” His eyes softened upon hearing your words.

You shook your head. “It’s okay, thanks Joshua. I’ll be right back.” you shot him an assuring smile before quickly walking back inside, right past the kitchen to the corridor.

Fuck. Why did you feel so jealous over Soonyoung? It’s not like you were ever close to him. 

Maybe you’d been an idiot hoping to catch Soonyoung’s attention, not when he barely paid any attention to you in the first place. He never noticed you in school. The secret glances, soft laughter you tried to hold in whenever he and his friends joked around in class. He didn’t even know you were attending the same college, for god's sake.

Now you felt even worse. You decided to walk straight outside through the front door—away. 

“Leaving already?”

You jumped at the sudden voice, eyes locking with Jeonghan who you saw leaning against the white brick house. He eyed you with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“Fuck, you scared me.” you instinctively pressed your hand against your thumping chest. Jeonghan seemed to observe you carefully, eyebrows furrowed like he was deep in thought.

“Everything okay?” he suddenly asked you. The question surprised you. Jeonghan didn’t seem the type to entertain people he didn’t care about. 

“Um, yeah,” you responded meekly. “Just going home.” you shrugged, fully ready to walk off. 

Jeonghan hummed, pushing himself off the wall to get a bit closer to you. You stopped moving, your shoulders slumping a little while looking at him. Jeonghan checking up on you was as odd as it was out of character, but continuing to want to talk to you? By choice? You were stunned.

“Let me guess,” he smiled, clearly already very amused by whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “This has something to do with Soonyoung.” He almost grinned, and his arms remained crossed as he waited for your reaction.

The look on your face only made him smile wider, looking like he had won the lottery.

“I knew I would be right.” he mumbled under his breath, chuckling in an irritating way. “I’m good at this…” he seemed amused, waiting for you to defend yourself. 

You forced yourself to laugh, shifting your weight awkwardly as the stiff sound croaked out of you. “What are you talking about?” you held your breath awaiting his next words, but some part of you knew he had you right where he wanted you. 

“I mean,” the look in his eyes shifted into something you couldn’t describe. “You have a thing for Soonyoung. It’s very obvious.”

Your chest felt tight. Was is really that noticeable?

“For…for Soonyoung?” you laughed as if his take had been completely wrong. “Why would you think that?” you continued, the quirk of his lip only sputtering you on more. You hoped he couldn’t notice how flustered you were becoming. 

Jeonghan laughed, the nasal sound ripping from his throat surprising you. You realized you’d never seen this side to him—almost happy. 

“I can help you.” 

Your eye twitched. There was a brief silence as Jeonghan anticipated your response, his mouth slightly agape as his eyebrows rose. 

“Huh?”

Your confusion made him giggle, dropping his arms down next to his body to fully close the space between you. “Listen,” he started, licking his lips. “I will help you get Soonyoung.” You were suddenly feeling very self-conscious having him so close to you. 

“I’m not surprised he hasn’t noticed, since he’s oblivious as it is,” he continued. You looked away at his words, chewing on the inside of your cheek. 

“He’s one of my best friends, so it won’t be that hard.” he hummed, taking you in. 

You forced yourself to look back into his eyes, a silent exhale passing through your lips. This had to be some kind of setup. There had to be something behind it he wasn’t telling you.

“Who says I want your help?” you glared at him, furrowing your eyebrows. 

Jeonghan seemed to like your answer, a wide smile spreading on his face.

“Suit yourself. I’ll tell him about your little crush myself.”

Your eyes widened a bit, looking at him in disbelief. 

“Why do you even care that much, Jeonghan?” you crossed your arms, a part of you knowing very well he would happily inform his friend of your stupid secret. 

“I’m bored.” he simply grinned, his expression one of an evil mastermind.

Despite already having agreed with Jeonghan beforehand, you felt nervous about sitting next to him in class. You liked sitting near the front, a bit meticulous about having little to no distractions while taking your notes and listening to whatever your teacher had to say. 

Jeonghan always sat in the far back of the class, less caring about the lesson and more about doing whatever it was he was back there. You could always hear him snicker about something, probably because of Soonyoung or Seokmin, treating the hour-long lesson like their own personal bar despite already living together and practically being together most of their time. 

Today you sat in the back, jumping in your seat when Jeonghan loudly dropped his bag on the table next to you. You snapped out of your daze, looking up to see the boy already smirking at you. 

“You didn’t chicken out,” he observed aloud, as if he thought you would actually back out of his genius plan to catch Soonyoung’s attention. As if the threat of not listening to him didn’t come with consequences.

“I’m a little surprised to be honest.” he chuckled, sitting down next to you. 

You sighed, following him with your eyes. “Why?” you decided to take the bait. Jeonghan only smiled. “Nevermind. It’ll be more fun this way.” he hummed, carelessly throwing his phone down on the table. “I already have some things in mind, you’ll see,” 

You didn’t even want to imagine what he was implying, rolling your eyes before pulling out your notebook and pen. 

“Aigoo.” Jeonghan laughed seeing your pastel pink pen, the top decorated with a cute little duck. Your cheeks burned. 

Before you could protest he snatched it from your hand, giggling as he observed it up close. 

“How cute. Did you name him?” he grinned, loving how embarrassed you looked. “No.” you hissed, trying to get it back from him. Jeonghan tsked with a smile, avoiding your hand before excitedly scooting closer to you. 

He held the pen right front of you, wiggling it in front of your face as he started speaking with a high pitched voice. “Please save me from Hannie! I feel so sad without you, y/n.” he laughed at himself, spinning the duck’s head towards him. 

He cleared his throat, giving the object a serious look. “I’ll keep you with me today, but I promise I will give you back to y/n later. Now, tell her goodbye.” 

“Seriously?” you grumbled, watching him put the duck back in front of your face. 

“Bye y/nnie! See you later!” he said in the same, annoying voice, making a loud kissing sound as he briefly pressed the duck’s beak against your lips. 

“Jeonghan!” you complained, pushing his arm away as he laughed. Right as you did so, Soonyoung and Seokmin walked in, the latter visibly surprised you were sitting next to Jeonghan. 

“Oh, y/n!” Soonyoung smiled, plopping down in the seat in front of Jeonghan. You smiled at him, suddenly feeling very conscious of Jeonghan’s little plan—which he failed to explain the exact logistics of. 

“Hi guys.” Seokmin greeted. He sat down in front of you, his back turned to you as he rumbled through his backpack. 

“Hyung, didn’t you say you disliked y/n?” Soonyoung asked, leaning over the backrest of the chair as he looked at his friend obliviously. By his tone you could tell he didn’t mean it in a bad way, he was genuinely interested. Soonyoung always had a way of blurting out whatever he had on his mind. 

Jeonghan cocked up his eyebrows, giving you a quick look that was met with a subtle glare. “What? Of course not.” he coolly dismissed his friend’s words. 

Soonyoung had a subtle pout in his face, looking around as if he was thinking for a moment. “But you said she’s-“

“I don’t dislike y/n.” Jeonghan roughly cut him off, giving him a stern look. Soonyoung giggled, giving you a warm smile that had you malfunctioning for a moment “I think it’s good you’re becoming friends!” he said, then quickly turned around when the teacher announced herself. 

“I’m not too fond of you either, you know.” you grumbled lowly to Jeonghan, making him chuckle. “Aw, did I hurt your feelings? I’m sorry. Promise we’ll have a great time together from now.” 

You rolled your eyes again. “Whatever.” you sighed in defeat, forcing yourself to pay attention to the class. 

The lesson carried on like normal, but your mind kept wandering. You were a little worried about whatever Jeonghan had in store for you, fearing the worst. How would he even be able to help you with Soonyoung? Was this all some ploy to embarrass you in front of his friends?

Deep in thought, you failed to notice Jeonghan leaning into you, flinching when he suddenly put his hand on your knee. “Thinking of me?” he whispered. His breath hit your ear, making the hairs on your arms stand up. 

“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, keeping your eyes on the teacher and hoping she wouldn’t notice what was happening. 

“Don’t you trust me?” Jeonghan’s voice carried a hint of amusement, and you could practically hear him smile as he spoke. “No.” you admitted quickly. Jeonghan chuckled. “Relax, this is all part of it.” he gently squeezed your knee, making you pout a little. The action had you meet his eye, yet you barely turned to him, not wanting it to seem like you were talking to him in the middle of class. 

“Come closer. You have to at least put in an effort if you want Soonyoung to think we’re dating.” Jeonghan whispered, pulling you closer towards him by your knee. 

Your eyes widened, looking at him in bewilderment as you felt his side pressing into yours. “D-dating?” you almost gasped. “Yeah?” Jeonghan said as if you were stupid. “How else do you want to catch his attention?” he said, like it was obvious this is what you were going to do from the start. 

“Like, suddenly? It’ll be weird.” you mumbled, ignoring the heat radiating off his body. Jeonghan shrugged. “We don’t actually tell anyone we’re ‘dating’. They just need to speculate that there’s something going on between us—and it's Soonyoung. He’ll believe anything.” His hand moved from your knee to hang over the backrest of your seat, trying to appear somewhat close to you. 

“Watch.” he looked at the front of the class for a moment before leaning back in to reach your ear. “Look at our teacher. Don’t you think it’s funny how she always wears those ugly shoes with that gap between her big toes?” you caught sight of what he was talking about, wheezing at his description. “The loafers? They’re kinda popular right now…” 

Jeonghan smiled. “They look like hooves. Hideous.” that made you laugh, catching Soonyoung briefly looking back at the two of you. “I want to burn those ugly horse shoes so bad.” he continued, very aware of his friend now paying attention to you. 

“Guys,” Soonyoung whispered to the two of you, a little smile on his face. “Ignore him.” Jeonghan whispered. 

“Popular or not, I need them gone.” he continued as if he didn’t hear Soonyoung. 

“Hey, guys,” Soonyoung said a bit louder, leaning over. 

“Hmm?” Jeonghan cocked up his eyebrows, turning his head to the boy. 

“What’re you laughing at?” he asked, hoping to join in on the fun. You allowed yourself to look at Soonyoung now too, waiting for Jeonghan to speak. 

“Huh? Oh, nothing…” Jeonghan giggled, putting his hand on your shoulder. Soonyoung pouted a little, softly nodding before looking back in front of him again, figuring whatever you were whispering about wasn’t anything of importance.

“See?” Jeonghan lowly said, a smirk tugging on his mouth. You didn’t reply, watching him play with your pen in his free hand. 

You couldn’t focus for the duration of the class, looking down at your blank notebook realizing you hadn’t been taking any notes, despite Jeonghan putting his pencil on your desk. His fingers played with the fabric of your shirt, not paying you any mind as he listened to the teacher. 

After the hour-long lesson Jeonghan waited for you to gather your stuff, Soonyoung and Seokmin already exiting the classroom as per Jeonghan’s request to not wait up for him. 

It felt oddly good getting all this attention suddenly, despite it coming from someone you had disliked for a year. Jeonghan really wasn’t as bad as you’d made him out to be, and a part of you liked being included in his circle and getting closer to him. It also made you nervous, never fully knowing what to expect from him.

“That was… interesting.” you told Jeonghan, looking up at him. He stood next to you with his arms crossed over his chest. You zipped up your bag, starting to walk out of the classroom with him. “Of course, told you it would work.” Jeonghan simply said, slowly walking through the hallway. “It would’ve even been better if you weren’t so awkward.” he sighed, looking at you. Your neck burned a bit, avoiding his eyes. You hadn’t realized you were being awkward.

“Meet me at the frat after you finish all of your classes.” 

“What?” you frowned at his words. 

Jeonghan had a blank look on his face. “Am I speaking french? You have to get used to us being together.” he said almost boredly, halting in front of your next class. You blinked at him before slowly nodding. It wouldn’t hurt to make it seem more believable. “Alright.” you said quietly. 

The corners of his mouth rose, winking at you before starting to walk off.  

“See you later!” he called over his shoulder, leaving you to ponder on what he’d planned.

A strange feeling settled in your stomach as you waited for Jeonghan in front of the big house, looking around the street observantly. 

The street wasn’t too busy, but there was a different atmosphere over at the frat row. The possibility of seeing all these boys—probably all friends with each other—was enough to make you nervous. You didn’t trust them, and you weren’t convinced any of them would see you as their equal—not for any societal reasons per se, but because you barely made any noise in the typical tight-knit college community on campus. 

It had been different being together with your friend last weekend, a fickle but comforting energy knowing you weren’t alone, even if it had only been for a little while before she disappeared with Mingyu. You’d had time to settle. 

Safe to say you felt out of place this time around. 

The sudden sound of the door opening then drew your attention.

“There’s my little ducky.” Jeonghan grinned, motioning for you to come in. He laughed at the look you were giving him, slamming the door shut before leading the way. 

Your worries seemed to melt away already, but you still felt somewhat nervous at the possibility of having to meet new people. 

“You still didn’t give me back my pen,” you told him as you blindly followed. He smiled as he walked past the kitchen to the hallway, looking back at you for a moment. “I’m keeping it,” he said casually.

You sighed in defeat, more focused on your surroundings than to give him a proper reply. The house was mostly quiet, and thankfully you didn’t see anyone apart from hearing muffled voices from whatever room you were passing by. 

“Could you walk any slower?” Jeonghan cocked up his eyebrows waiting for you to enter the opened door of his bedroom. You rolled your eyes at him. 

Once inside you started to become aware of where he’d taken you, looking around his room while chewing on your bottom lip. 

It looked like any other ordinary bedroom, spare for the few knick-knacks and the collection of shoes in the corner. There were tubs of skin care and school books on his desk, and some discarded clothes draped over his chair. 

“So… is Soonyoung home?” you asked carefully, not really sure why you were in his bedroom with him. 

“No,” Jeonghan said as he took a seat on his bed, simply watching you. 

You looked at him, gulping. “Oh…” you said softly, progressively getting more flustered as he held eye contact with you.  

Jeonghan chuckled, motioning for you to come closer. “Come here,” he extended his arm, patiently waiting for you to grab his hand. “This is just practice. You have to get used to us touching, ducky.” he smiled cheekily, watching you hesitantly close the space. 

He had a point. You told yourself it wasn’t a big deal, but you still felt overwhelmingly nervous as you grabbed his hand. Vulnerable. As you felt his skin, you noticed how long his eyelashes were, the sharp inner corners of his big eyes complimenting his pretty brown irises. His hand felt warm, but you felt weird. It was strangely intimate for some reason, and you wondered if he thought the same. 

“Don’t be so tense, y/n. Just act like you normally would.” he chuckled, pulling you closer than you already were, now standing between his parted thighs. You didn’t have anything to say to that, trying not to show how nervous you suddenly felt. 

“Why are you looking like that?” Jeonghan cocked his head to the side, reading you for a moment. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had a boyfriend before,” he grinned, already convinced this had been the reason for your silence. 

He laughed when the ghost of a pout appeared on your lips, almost making you want to pull your hand away if it weren’t for him already tightening his grip on you. 

“Cute. That’s why you’re so shy, hm?” he smiled with a wicked glint in his eyes. “Don’t mock me.” you mumbled, rolling your eyes before looking away. Jeonghan laughed again, shaking his head. “I’m not.” he lied, smiling in amusement. 

“Whatever,” you said, your eyebrows scrunched together as you looked at him again. 

“Hey, don’t be mad, ducky. I told you it’s cute.” Jeonghan hummed, suddenly wrapping his free arm around your waist and pulling you onto the bed with him. 

You gasped in surprise, bracing a hand on his chest as he pulled you closer, both arms wrapping around you as you lay curled on your side.

“You scared me!” You whined, hitting his chest. “Ow!” Jeonghan giggled, smoothing a hand over your hair. “Sorry.” he chuckled. “C’mere.” he softly urged your head to his chest before stroking your hair. 

You sighed in defeat, ignoring the knot in your stomach. “You asked me to come over to cuddle?” you sulked, not seeing why it would be of importance. 

“Yes? Things like this matter if you want us to be believable.” Jeonghan sighed, looking at you. You met his eye for a second, resisting the urge to roll your eyes again before looking out in front of you instead.

“I don’t even know why we’re doing this. I doubt it will work.” you murmured, unconsciously nuzzling your cheek against his chest. Your cheeks burned as you realized what you were doing, hoping Jeonghan wouldn’t make fun of you for it.

Jeonghan purposely tugged on the ends of your hair a bit too hard, earning him a glare whilst he just smiled. “It’s a shame you still don’t believe in my expertise.” he exhaled a long breath as if he was disappointed. “You have to be all in if you want this to succeed, ducky.” he smiled. 

“Stop calling me that,” you mumbled. “And If I remember correctly, you didn’t give me much of a choice, Jeonghan.” you then grumbled, making him laugh for a moment. You could feel his chest shake.

“Still,” he said, ignoring your first words.

You sighed. “Right.” you agreed. You just hoped it would be enough to interest the boy you’d liked since childhood. 

“I swear if you embarrass me…” you then added, looking at Jeonghan. 

He blinked slowly, just looking at you for a second. “Of course not.” he said in more seriousness, and you realized that’s all you wanted to hear from him. 

You slowly nodded. “Okay.” you almost whispered, giving him a little smile. Jeonghan smiled back at you, resting his cheek against the side of your head. 

You were both silent after that, finding comfort in each other’s embrace. It felt nice, having someone to finally hold you. 

But the comfort unsettled something, too. Truth is, you were a very lonely person. In your twenty-something years, you’d never had anyone pursue you romantically. Which you told yourself was fine—at first. But as the years passed, and those who took an interest in you somehow always ended up disappearing, you began to think something must be wrong with you. 

Still, the loneliness didn’t mean you lacked feeling. That had been the whole problem. You loved deeply, too much, sometimes so much that your fingers shook with it. It pulsed deep within you, burning to engulf and to take and keep taking. You were ashamed of the enormity of your desire, disgusted almost. You were scared that if you’d ever get a taste, you’d feast. You’d devour until nothing remained, only yourself and the wounds of your greediness. 

You thought yourself to be destructive, not to be trusted with even a sliver of it—even if a pair of warm arms around you had been all you’d ever wanted. 

You’d become too much one too many times in the past, and no one wants someone who’s too much. You told yourself love probably just wasn’t meant for you. Maybe you didn’t deserve it. At least not in this lifetime. 

You knew whatever you and Jeonghan were doing wasn’t real—not really. But a part of you had started to wonder. You could feel that same warmth you’d come to resent starting to bloom, and it scared you. You didn’t want to mess up again. Didn’t want to scare away the one person you were starting to let in.  

You blinked away tears, not because of your pain, but because Jeonghan’s embrace was bringing you so much comfort. 

“This feels nice.” you whispered, feeling a bit stupid for suddenly saying something so vulnerable. 

Maybe you really were greedy—doing all this to try to get Soonyoung, when you were convinced he would never want you anyway. Or if he did, he’d end up leaving just like everyone did.

Jeonghan hummed, oblivious to how emotional you suddenly felt. He kept stroking your hair. “Do you want to take a nap, ducky? I’m getting a bit tired,” he admitted, chuckling. You nodded against his chest, happy at the opportunity to have him like this a bit longer. 

Jeonghan pulled you even closer, sighing against your hair after closing his eyes. You carefully put your arm around him.

You tried not to overthink it anymore, closing your eyes to try to sleep. 

Not long after, Jeonghan’s breathing started slowing, and the hand that kept stroking your head now rested somewhere in your mess of hair. The rise and fall of his chest gradually helped lull you into sleep with him. 

Soft humming filled your ears, waking you up with a frown as you blinked in confusion. The sweet and airy sounds continued as you looked up at Jeonghan, suddenly remembering where you were.

Jeonghan met your gaze once you moved, the light from his phone behind your head illuminating his face as he stared back at you. He couldn’t contain his laughter seeing your tired face, letting his head fall back as he put his phone down. 

You only sighed before pushing yourself up, too dazed to curse at him already. 

It seemed like Jeonghan hadn’t moved at all as you were sleeping, silently scrolling on his phone while he had patiently waited for you to wake up. Whilst you had a nice nap, you couldn’t help feeling a bit embarrassed—and maybe ashamed—about letting yourself get so comfortable around him already. 

It took a lot of you to feel at ease around others, and you just hoped Jeonghan wouldn’t take advantage of your vulnerability despite his reassuring words.

“You woke up at a perfect time, sleepyhead.” Jeonghan smirked at you, watching you rub your eyes. 

“Why?” you asked with a frown, the boy copying you by sitting up as well. He grabbed his phone again, crossing his legs before showing you the live location of a food delivery driver entering the street. 

“You ordered food?” you looked at him. Jeonghan smiled, eyes closing in a slow nod. “I’ll be right back, ducky. Don’t miss me too much,” he tapped your nose playfully before pushing himself off the bed, chuckling at you rolling your eyes as he sauntered out of his bedroom. 

Jeonghan returned within a minute, flashing you the plastic bag with a smile before sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“I got us burgers.” he announced, pulling out two white wrappers and a bag of fries to put in between you. 

Jeonghan ate a fry, humming as he chewed while opening a packet of ketchup. “Are you hungry?” he asked, grabbing a couple of fries again. You nodded, unwrapping your burger slowly before meeting his gaze again. 

Jeonghan cocked up his eyebrows, smiling as he watched you. “What’s going on in that little head of yours?” he asked in amusement. 

You sighed, frowning for a bit as you searched for your words. 

“Do you think… we’ll even convince him?” you asked him hesitantly.

Jeonghan cocked his head to the side. “Of course we will. You don’t think so?” he took a bite of his burger, nodding his head towards yours to get you to eat already. 

“I’m not sure,” you sighed again before looking down at your cheeseburger, choosing not to further bother him with your insecurities before finally taking a big bite. 

He could tell you had more on your mind than you led on, carefully watching you as he chewed his food. Jeonghan chose not to ask too many questions—not yet. 

After finishing your food you headed back to the sorority. It was dark out, and if you stayed out for much longer your sorority sisters would undoubtedly start asking questions you didn’t want to answer. 

As you left the frat you thought about how different Jeonghan really was compared to how you’d perceived him. He was funny, and more importantly, he was kind. So kind he’d given you his jacket so you wouldn’t get cold on your walk home. It felt good being around him, as though you were finally seen. Really seen.

You zipped up the dark blue jacket, the back adorned with big white ΙΖ' lettering, smiling to yourself like a creep as you thought about all of the dumb jokes Jeonghan had fed you the whole night. 

Soonyoung sipped on his diet coke as he watched Seokmin and you work on your assignment, brown irises flickering between the two of you as he sat in silence. 

He didn’t notice the familiar jacket you’d purposely left on the table next to your laptop, or how awkwardly your frame shifted in the stiff chair beneath the buzzing lights of the study hall. 

You hadn’t been in contact with Jeonghan all day, assuming you’d see him again at the group meeting. Only he hadn’t shown up, the boys beside you mentioning how he’d told them he had been too tired to leave the house. 

It had only been half an hour since you’d started working on coding a website for your three product skincare line—a task that would be a whole lot easier if Soonyoung and Seokmin had done their part of the assignment. Which they hadn’t. 

At least you’d gotten somewhere today. The basics weren’t hard, you’d already finished most of the HTML structure and some basic CSS. To continue you needed to know what products you’d use—Seokmin’s task—and the color scheme and logo that would represent your website—which was what Soonyoung had to do. 

You reminded yourself you all had the whole semester to finish, so for now you could relax. But you felt anything but relaxed, your body on edge in the presence of Soonyoung. 

The screen of your phone lit up, your jaw ticking when you read the message. 

Yoon Jeonghan: go flirt with him ;)

You accidentally met Soonyoung’s gaze, forcing yourself to give him a stiff smile. Soonyoung smiled back at you, straightening up in his chair before motioning to your laptop. 

“Can I see?” he had a hopeful look on his face, his chubby cheeks growing in size as he smiled wider.  

Jeonghan’s words echoed in your head, sending your pulse racing. Your stomach felt tight, gulping before you nodded and turned the screen to him. Why was this so hard?

“Oh! You did all this?” Soonyoung scanned the simple website you’d created, easily impressed by your abilities. 

You nodded. “Yeah… It’ll look better after we have a logo and stuff,” you rambled, watching Soonyoung slowly pout. “Right,” he giggled, exhaling a soft breath. “I’ll get us a kick-ass logo soon, promise.” he smiled, making Seokmin chuckle in amusement. He obviously didn’t have much trust in his friend.

You called it a day soon after, feeling a bit defeated as you had no idea how to go about this. Sure, it was one thing to fake-date Soonyoung’s best friend, but without Jeonghan you had no clue how to act in front of him. You felt lost.

Things were basically the same as before—strictly friendly. That was it. 

You sighed in defeat at the scene in front of you. Small groups of random students you didn’t recognize sipped on their cheap bottles of beer, chatting away without a care in the world. 

“We won’t be long,” Jeonghan bumped your shoulder, already reading your mind. He smirked at the glare you were sending his way. “We just need to be seen together.” he explained for what seemed like the nth time, making you hum uninterested. 

The frat seemed to get rowdier by the minute as Jeonghan poured you a drink in the kitchen. A special drink, or how he’d called it. 

You didn’t want to admit it, but you were feeling nervous. It was the first time you’d so openly be seen together with Jeonghan. And you were still doubting all of it. 

It wasn’t only the inquisitive eyes of strangers you dreaded—or Soonyoung’s, it was also the fact that your best friend would come. 

You had no idea how you would convince her you’d randomly started dating Yoon Jeonghan out of all people, afraid she’d see right through you. How could she not?

Jeonghan handed you a glass with an almost black liquor, cocking up his eyebrow at you as he waited. You accepted it hesitantly before taking a big gulp. You figured you needed alcohol for this anyway. 

“God, what’s in this?” you cringed at the heavy flavor, making the boy next to you laugh. 

“You’ve never had jagermeister?” he snorted before bringing the rim to his quirked lips.  

“Straight?” your eyes widened, watching him swallow down the drink. 

“No, silly. I added coke.” he smiled, the essence from the liquor coating his lips.

You rolled your eyes, relaxing as he put his arm around you. “Calm down, ducky. You’re so on edge today,” he observed aloud, softly squeezing your shoulder. You only sighed, scanning the body of people before you. 

Almost immediately, you made eye contact with Jaehee, who excitedly walked up to Jeonghan and you. She seemed pretty smug when she noticed Jeonghan’s arm around you, tilting her eyebrows playfully as she got closer. 

“Hi y/nnie, Jeonghan,” she grinned. Jeonghan gave her a courtesy nod, smiling politely as he slid his hand down to rest atop your waist. The sensation of having his hand there caught you off guard for a moment. 

“What’s all this? You know you’re not supposed to mix business with pleasure, right?” She teased, awfully surprised at the seemingly random pairing. 

You didn’t question her reaction. Despite her not knowing about the grudge you’d held against Jeonghan for well over a year, she was very aware of your crush on Soonyoung. Which made Jeonghan and you together somewhat odd.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag,” Jeonghan chuckled, pulling you closer to kiss the top of your head. “Had to pull out all of my charm for this one,” he continued, and you admired how well he was playing his role. 

“Oh, i’m sure. You got the pick of the litter, Yoon Jeonghan,” Jaehee winked at you as she talked you up. 

Her eyes easily found Jeonghan again. “But, make her sad once and see what happens.” Her lips pressed together in a straight line. 

Jeonghan smiled, looking down at you as if you were the only one in the room. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” he almost whispered as you met his eye. You only blinked at him, not knowing how to respond before he chuckled at you and softly nudged your cheek with the back of his fingers, leaving the skin tingling from his touch.

“I have to restock the coolers real quick before the beer bros start complaining,” Jeonghan squeezed your waist before letting go of you. “I’ll give you two a minute.” he smiled, patting your head before walking off. 

“What the fuck?!” Jaehee yell-whispered at you as you watched Jeonghan disappear. You had to remind yourself to act natural. This was all a part of the plan, after all. 

“You’re dating Jeonghan? How did that happen?” Jae crossed her arms over her chest, a pleased smirk forming on her glossy lips. 

You gave her a smile. “Oh, you know…” you brushed it off, chuckling. 

“Is this why you’ve been so off lately?” she asked, shaking her head in amazement. You frowned as you took a sip of your overpowering drink. “I haven’t been off,” you told her after finishing your glass in one gulp. 

“You so have!” she giggled, pushing your shoulder playfully. You only laughed, shrugging. “Maybe.” you pouted, giggling at the expression she was giving you. 

Jaehee shook her head again in amazement, turning to the kitchen island to pour herself a drink.

Though you did feel bad for lying, you tried not to think about it for now. You’d tell her eventually, after all of this would merely be a funny memory you’d laugh at looking back.

“So,” she started, turning back to you with a mischievous grin. “Did you have sex with him yet?” she leaned in, reading your reaction carefully. 

“Jaehee…” you rolled your eyes and laughed, trying not to seem too caught off guard at the question. The thought of it brought goosebumps to your skin, and you reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter to mask the shaky breath you suddenly had to let out. You needed it for emotional support anyway with Jeonghan not there to do the talking for you. 

“Oh, come on! You got your first boyfriend and you want me to be cool about it?” she sulked.

“I don’t want to jinx anything yet,” you told her coolly, chuckling at her sighing out loud. “Fair.” she smiled sweetly, dropping it for now.

Soonyoung hadn’t spared you a second glance after his initial greeting—a mere wave—off laughing with Seokmin and some random girl for what had already felt like hours. 

Jeonghan had been gone for a while already, and you were starting to feel restless without him. You blamed it on the scene in front of you—the way Soonyoung’s laugh echoed far too loudly at whatever the girl was telling him, his arm deliberately brushing her shirt. Your skin prickled almost painfully at the sight as you tried to pay attention to Jae’s rant about something Mingyu had done.

Still, Seokmin was right there. Equally as loud, friendly, exactly the buffer that should’ve made all of this easier to stomach. And yet… it didn’t. The restlessness lingered like a breath you couldn't fully release. An itch you couldn’t reach.

You kept glancing over at Soonyoung, but the longer you looked, the less you recognised him. The somewhat quiet, awkward kid you used to know felt like someone else entirely now. You were beginning to fear that you were chasing a past version of him, one that didn’t even exist anymore. You realised you were looking through the lens of someone who used to know him.

Maybe you were just doing this all wrong. Maybe if you were louder, or bolder—better, you wouldn’t be feeling this defeated.

There was a dull, stubborn ache in your chest that kept on growing, one that you couldn’t ignore no matter how hard you tried. The thought of doing all of this without even knowing if you still even wanted it stung, and all you wanted was to flee. All you wanted was for Jeonghan to make you laugh again.

“Fuck, okay—I’m gonna go find him,” Jaehee sighed after getting out all her pent up frustration, taking the remainder of her drink as a shot. “I’m going to confront him—remind him I’m a bad bitch who doesn’t take shit. Wish me luck.” Her jaw stiffened, eyes scanning the room to catch sight of Mingyu. 

“Good luck, girl,” you forced a smile. You really didn’t want to be by yourself right now. But you didn’t say anything, watching her sigh before getting lost in the crowd.

You had the perfect opportunity to leave the party, walk the short route back to the sorority and simply call it a night. The alcohol had made you tired anyway. 

Yet you found yourself sipping on another drink on the couch. 

You were hoping Jeonghan would come find you. Whenever you were with him you seemed to forget about everything that gnawed at you. He was quickly becoming your comfort in all of the chaos you felt. Maybe he was the cause of it, too. 

As if on cue, you spotted the long-haired boy in the sea of people. “There you are,” he said when he got close enough. His voice soothed you, and you already felt a bit better. Jeonghan slotted himself next to you on the couch with a low groan, his warm hand finding your knee as if it were natural. 

“What’s wrong?” he squeezed you when you didn’t greet him. You shrugged. 

Jeonghan looked at you for a moment, his big eyes reading you. “Is this about Soonyoung?” he blinked.

You exhaled a breath. “It’s stupid.” 

“Probably,” he said, earning a glare. Jeonghan only smiled. 

“C’mon, tell Jeonghannie,” He put his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. 

“I hate that.” you grumbled at the way he was referring to himself, making him chuckle. “Stop moping, little ducky,” he began stroking your hair..  

You sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. You just looked at him for a moment, his features softening as he noted your hesitance. 

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said carefully, frowning a little. You felt vulnerable vocalizing what’d been plaguing your mind, but somehow it eased the weight off your shoulders too.

His brown eyes didn’t leave yours, sympathy growing on his handsome face. Jeonghan then softly hummed in acknowledgment. “Why do you think that?” he simply asked.

You sighed again, looking away. “Just… It’s stupid—I don’t have a chance with him anyway,” you mumbled, making Jeonghan cock up his eyebrows. 

“Huh? Of course you do, silly,” Jeonghan softly shook you, smiling at you sparingly. He wondered why you continued to put yourself down.

You looked at him, doubt clear on your face. “I don’t think so.” you shrugged. It was Jeonghan’s turn to sigh. “Well, you’re wrong.” he fixed a stray strand of your hair, putting the lock behind your ear. 

You chuckled bitterly. “I’m not his type. I’m not… confident, or assertive… no one ever likes me,” your jaw tightened a bit as you spoke, your throat closing up.

Jeonghan frowned at you, pausing for a moment. “That’s not true y/n,” he shook his head, observing you carefully. “Like, not at all.” He sighed before gently nudging your chin, looking at you. You softly pouted, not really knowing what to say. 

“Do you even know how lucky he’d be to have you?” he added, his sweet words only making you somber. 

“He’ll see that too, so don't try to act like someone you’re not. You’re already perfect.” Jeonghan reassured you, holding your chin to keep you from looking away from him again. You swallowed a lump in your throat.

“Such a pretty girl…” he then hummed with a smile, only making things worse. You hated how much his words impacted you—how easily they reached the parts of you you tried to keep hidden. 

“He’d be such an idiot…” he whispered, taking you in carefully. 

You avoided his gaze, unable to repress the tears that were starting to form in the corners of your eyes. You didn’t know why it hit so hard—maybe because you wanted to believe it.

“Aigooya,” Jeonghan reached out to dry your tears. “Don’t cry on me, little ducky,” he pouted before giving your cheek a soft squeeze, slowly starting to smile.

“I’ll talk you up to him, okay? I promise.” he assured you. You blinked away your tears and exhaled a breath to compose yourself, nodding as you gave him a little smile. 

“Good. Now, don’t be sad—or Jaehee will scold me for being a bad boyfriend.” he sighed, making you chuckle in the middle of all of this. 

“I’m okay… thank you, Hannie.” you sniffled.

Jeonghan cocked his head to the side at the nickname you’d given him, smirking in amusement. “I already got a nickname? I must be good at this fake boyfriend thing.” he teased you, laughing when you pushed him. 

“Ow!” he giggled. “Keep teasing me and I might start thinking you actually like me,” Jeonghan grinned, making you roll your eyes. “I’m not teasing you.” you tried not to smile. 

“Oh? Calling me that is teasing, ducky.” he put his arm around you again, smiling as he pulled you into his embrace, this time keeping you there.

“You call me that stupid nickname every two seconds and I’m the one teasing?” you looked up at him, your cheek resting against his shoulder as he kept you close. 

“I never said I wasn’t,” Jeonghan smirked, almost challenging you to say something back. 

You could feel your face starting to heat up, not knowing how to get back at him. There was a brief pause between the two of you. 

“You know,” Jeonghan then whispered, momentarily looking behind you before his sharp eyes invaded yours again. He licked his lips before glancing at yours, and the subtle action made you slightly nervous. “I know just how to get people’s attention,” the corner of his mouth rose, waiting on how you’d react. Now you were getting really nervous.

Still, you didn’t know what to say. 

Jeonghan looked perfect as he studied you, like he already knew what you were thinking. You were terrified he might. Your quietness, your hesitation… you were convinced it only enticed him. But what if you were just imagining the sudden heaviness hanging in the air?

“What, you don’t want to kiss me?” his lip threatened to curl up again, though he tried his best not to. 

Oh. 

You blinked at him in surprise, too afraid to assume that he was actually serious. 

“Jeonghan…” you whispered shyly, feeling your heart beating out of your chest. 

Jeonghan knew you weren’t saying no—he could see it in your eyes, in the way you were looking at him the same way he had been looking at you. You wanted to. He wasn’t dumb. But you were simply too timid to initiate what he’d been alluding to.

He then gently cupped your cheek, fingers burning against your warm skin as he slowly leaned in. His lips parted in a pleased smirk noticing the hazy look hiding behind your eyes, thumb swiping your cheek to lure your blown pupils to meet his, commanding your full and uttermost attention. You melted under his touch, watching his long lashes fan his cheeks as he closed them, before his lips finally met yours in a soft but long kiss.

The party was all a blur by now, fixated on the feeling of Jeonghan’s lips and his body leaning into yours. You felt hot, and maybe not just because of the alcohol in your system. Just when you started to fear he’d pull away, Jeonghan purred against your mouth, holding you tighter before tracing a line on your bottom lip with his tongue. You let him take the lead, let him do as he pleased as he left you whimpering with a mere tug of his teeth.

You realised he’s messing with you even now, feeling him smile whenever he gets a sound out of you. You didn’t care this time, finding your hand suddenly clutching his shirt at his side as Jeonghan deepened the kiss, hearing the wet smacking sounds even over the music you had already tuned out.

You kissed Jeonghan back with equal fever. You were vaguely aware of people watching—You didn’t care. You didn’t want to stop. You moaned into his mouth at the sensation, a mess of spit and teeth that had your cheeks burn with anticipation. 

It all felt a little too real—but maybe if you convinced yourself it was as real as it felt, others would believe it too. Even if Soonyoung didn’t see what was happening, word would spread eventually.

Then, he stopped. 

“Let’s go to my room,” Jeonghan whispered, linking your fingers together before getting up and pulling you with him. 

You only nodded, ignoring the quiet sting of something unfinished as he led you through the body of people, away from the rowdy living room. 

You’d gotten what Jeonghan had promised—something to make all of this seem believable. And getting seen leaving together was the icing on the cake. 

Your lips still tingled from the kiss, though you tried not to show how much Jeonghan had unraveled you as you entered his bedroom together. You were finally away from the party, and you could let yourself relax now. You exhaled a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding before smiling, feeling Jeonghan’s eyes on you as you kicked off your shoes and crawled onto his bed. 

“Mission accomplished,” you joked, lying down with a groan and stretching out your limbs to get comfortable.

Jeonghan didn’t respond. You watched him crawl onto the bed after you, mirroring your movements. You smiled at him, expecting him to roll onto his back next to you—only to freeze when he climbed on top of you instead.

Jeonghan kissed you again. Only this time he didn’t intend on stopping.

Your breath hitched against his lips, hands finding his shoulders as you let him. 

The way his weight pressed into you made your head spin, like you were his for the taking.

His elbows framed your face, soft, long hairs brushing your face—you couldn’t think anymore. You didn’t want to think anymore.

“Jeonghan—“ you finally whispered, your body on fire as he shushed you with a long peck. You suppressed a moan and squeezed his shoulder in vain at the way he kept sucking and biting your bottom lip, a veil of pleasure spreading through every inch of you.

“Jeonghan—Wha-what are you doing?” you managed to stutter through your haze, feeling yourself practically glued to the mattress. 

Jeonghan cupped your cheeks, giving you a long peck. “Can’t help myself. Y’re just so cute,” he mumbled before kissing you again, sighing when you started kissing him back.

The tips of his fingers found your skin under the hem of your top, brushing your hip almost hesitantly as if you could pull away at any moment, like any wrong move would bring you back to your senses and have you slip away from him.

You pulled him closer, sighing at the feeling of his hand slowly stroking up your side. Your back curled autonomously at the gentle caress, pressing your head into the pillow as Jeonghan ground his hips against yours.

Nimble fingers pulled up the cup of your bra, plumped pink lips pecking your ajar mouth as he squeezed your breast. You spread your thighs wider for him before pulling on the ends of his hair, kissing him hard as you started panting at the friction of his groin grinding against your clothed cunt. 

“Hannie…” you whispered, curling your back again. 

“Yes, ducky?” Jeonghan asked softly, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

“Please…” you gulped, letting go of his hair to pull at the hem of his shirt. 

You’d never fake dated before, but you were sure you were breaking every rule in the book.

Jeonghan slowly started kissing down to your neck, only stopping to rid himself of the fabric you wanted gone. His smooth back felt soft as you shyly traced a line over the fair skin, eyes closing with a sigh when he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot where your neck met your shoulder. 

“Is this still okay?” Jeonghan whispered against your skin, his fingers splayed over your exposed stomach where your top had ridden up, softly kneading your waist. You nodded, and he softly moaned when your nails brushed the nape of his neck, tangling gently in his long hair.

You guided his lips back to yours, all signs of modesty ignored, evident in the way your tongue nastily demanded his. 

“Fuck.” Jeonghan breathed. “Can I touch you, baby?” he asked, squeezing your waist while his thumbs pushed down against the waistband of your jeans. Eagerly, you nodded. “Yes, please,” you mumbled against his lips, feeling the corners of his mouth tug up. 

You sucked on his bottom lip to silence any potential sneer that would follow, smiling at the hushed curse that followed. 

Jeonghan kept kissing you as he undid the button of your jeans, fingers dipping into the fabric to tug them down to your knees. 

The short sensation of his body grinding against you had already left a mess between your legs, leaving a subtle dark patch on your panties. 

You didn’t give Jeonghan much of an opportunity to pull away from you, mewling against his mouth at the sudden feeling of his fingers slowly starting to rub your clit. 

Your body started meeting his touch, hips following his movement as your jaw slacked. 

Jeonghan softly hummed, brown eyes fixated on your face as he kept pecking your top lip. 

“More, Hannie…” your chest tightened when you met his eye, a heavy veil settling over your body as the weight of what the two of you were doing sank in.

Jeonghan looked down at you, taking a beat too long to respond as if he had realized the exact same thing. Then he smiled—almost smirking before applying more pressure. 

You moaned, squeezing your eyes shut for a quick second before giving him a hard kiss. You softly shook your head. “More.” you told him again, a short wave of anxiety seeping through your body that instantly disappeared again when he dipped his fingers inside of your panties, finally touching you where you needed him.

“Is this better?” he whispered, smiling when you gave him this look, begging for him to kiss you properly again. 

“Yes,” you said almost inaudibly, your nails raking over the back of his neck at the feeling of his soft lips pushing against yours. 

He circled your clit with his thumb, his fingers taunting your burning entrance. 

You spread your thighs even further, hoping it would lead to him pushing his fingers deep inside of you already. 

Instead, Jeonghan took his time teasing your clit and entrance, thumb pushing into your nub as two of his fingers brushed against your wet hole. 

Your hands slid to his cheeks, cupping his face before moaning into his mouth. You could feel him smile at the sounds he was inciting out of you, only spurring the both of you on more. 

His digits pushed against your entrance, starting to dip inside of you before stopping right when you started to feel your entrance burn. They slipped back against your wet entrance, a chuckle rolling out of his throat when you exhaled a breath of frustration. 

“Say please,” Jeonghan purred against your lips, now completely abandoning your core to gently pinch your clit. You exhaled another breath, brows furrowing while your cheeks grew hotter. 

“Jeonghan…” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder in hopes of having him give in to you. 

“Come on, just like you did before,” he continued, failing to hide how much he enjoyed the reaction he had on you.

You sighed, feeling as if you were cloud nine as he started nibbling on your bottom lip. 

“Please…” you gulped, imagining his long fingers pushing inside of you. 

“Good girl,” Jeonghan mumbled, his hot tongue finding yours before he did just that, two digits starting to slowly enter you. A moan filled the air, your breath hitching as your pussy stretched to accommodate his fingers. 

He moved them at a slow pace, opening his eyes to watch you wither under him. A sight he didn’t want to ever forget. 

“Does that feel good, ducky?” Jeonghan whispered, brushing your lips with his. You quickly nodded, trying to keep kissing him despite the overwhelming pleasure that kept building, putting you in a trance. 

He went a bit faster, forehead touching yours as his eyes remained glued to your face. Your eyelashes fanned your cheeks, lips twitching and mouth unfurling with every delicious drag of his fingers. 

“Mmnh!” you whimpered and bucked your hips when he circled your hard clit, making your thighs twitch at the friction. You tightened around him, clutching his shoulder and pulling him flat against your body as some sort of anchor. 

You gasped for air, sliding a leg over his hip before pushing yours up, chasing the orgasm you felt approaching quickly. 

Jeonghan kissed your nose before going even faster, dying to watch you come around his fingers. 

You bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut as pleasure bloomed inside of you, consuming you as you reached your high with another loud whimper. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, sighing as your thigh unhooked from his hip and slid back down on the mattress. 

Jeonghan kissed your cheek, slowly pulling his fingers out of you before sucking them clean while looking at you. He had you speechless. 

“Are you okay?” Jeonghan asked softly, your eyes fixated on his plump lips. Slowly, you nodded, feeling slightly unsure as you pecked his lips. Jeonghan smiled. 

“You’re cute,” he chuckled, fixing the wild strands of your hair before moving to push himself up. Your hand quickly found his bicep.

“No.” you slipped out, eyes wide and hazy as you looked at him. 

Jeonghan tilted his head, blinking slowly. Then he smiled in amusement. “Aren’t you tired, baby?” Jeonghan teased you, his muscles relaxing as he found his previous position again. 

You shook your head. 

“Do you… do you want to?” you asked a bit unsure, only hoping you weren’t embarrassing yourself. What if the moment was just that—a moment that had now passed. 

Jeonghan laughed, giving you a chaste kiss. 

“Are you serious? Do you even know how hard I am right now?” he chuckled when you replied with a nod, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand before pushing himself up at last. 

You watched him unbuckle his belt, admiring his pretty body whilst he rid himself of his pants. Your eyes followed a path down to his boxers, swallowing a lump in your throat at what you were seeing. 

You didn’t expect just how big he were, even with the dark piece of fabric that was still covering his manhood. 

“Are you gonna take it off for me?” Jeonghan asked you, his sultry voice and bedroom eyes making your chest thump. Those eyes of his would have you do anything he asked of you. 

You suddenly realized you were still lying down with your pants half on, shyly tugging them down together with your panties before discarding them on the floor. You kneeled on the bed, crawling over to where Jeonghan was to push him down and settle between his thighs. 

He watched you slip off your top over your head, your bra thrown on the growing pile to the side. 

You bit your lip as Jeonghan admired your naked body, his hand reaching out to stroke your thigh. 

“You’re so pretty,” he whispered, squeezing your skin. You gave him a small smile, trying to exhale a controlled breath as your fingers splayed over his lower tummy. 

“You’re pretty too.” Your lip twitched, eyes leaving his to glide down his figure, your digits hooking into his boxers to pull at the stretchy band. 

“Thank you, ducky.” Jeonghan hummed, licking his lips as he watched you get him fully naked. 

Your lungs filled up with air when you saw his large cock, the tip glistening and leaking pre-cum already. You weren’t sure if you were able to fit all of him inside of you, and the mere thought of it sinking deep inside made you gulp. In a good way. 

Quickly, your hand wrapped around the base, your lips parting as you leaned down a little to let a glob of spit drip down onto the red tip. 

Jeonghan sighed, his eyes narrowing as he watched you carefully. 

You spread the wetness all over his length, the dirty sounds filling the air even over the subtle music off in the distance. Jeonghan’s body relaxed under your touch, his mouth slightly open as he breathed deeper. 

The sight in front of you had your cunt tighten around nothing. You didn’t care that you weren’t supposed to do this. Right now you needed to feel him. 

Jeonghan’s hands found your waist, his breath hitching when you straddled him and fisted his hard cock to align the tip against your folds. You kissed him, softly moaning against his lips as you ground your cunt against him. 

Slowly but gradually, you started sinking down, a mixture of your moans filling the air. 

He was so big, and you struggled to accommodate his thick tip. “Slow down.” Jeonghan groaned, throwing his head back to release a filthy whimper as you ignored him and did your best to keep going. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, clencing around his size fruitlessly. You held his shoulders to support yourself, your hips stuttering when you finally sat down on him. You exhaled a shaky breath before rolling your hips, the overstimulation killing you. 

You moaned again, feeling him press right onto your G-spot. 

He looked so effortlessly pretty like this. The strands of his long hair framed his face, tongue peeking out from plump lips as his chest adorned a new red-colored flush. You could feel him tighten his grip on your waist, big eyes watching you. 

You found a steady rhythm, trying your best to keep yourself from cumming already—which proved to be harder than anything.

A yelp came out of you when his thumb brushed your clit just like before, your jaw slacking at the newfound pleasure running through your body. “Fuck, Jeonghan,” you gulped hard, biting your lip and moaning when he thrusted up once to meet you. 

“You feel so fucking good, ducky,” Jeonghan moaned, yanking you down by your shoulder to have your chests meet. He put an arm around you, keeping you pressed against you as he planted his feet down on the mattress to fuck up into you. You whimpered hard. 

“Sorry, sorry, just need you now,” he groaned, his cheek pressing against your crown. 

You squeezed his shoulders, whimpering uncontrollably as he kept a head-spinning pace. You pressed your mouth against his neck, making him curse as your teeth found his skin. 

Jeonghan gripped your ass, kneading the skin as the filthy sounds echoed through his bedroom. 

Anyone walking past would be able to hear what was happening, and yet you really didn’t care. You were sure Jeonghan didn’t care.

Your body felt on fire, the feeling of his hands gripping you to keep you from moving leaving you breathless.

Then, he rolled you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head by your wrists as he started fucking you again. Jeonghan licked his lips, watching you wither under him with a pair of hazy eyes to match his. 

God, he was big. He stretched you out so deliciously, so perfectly. You squeezed your eyes shut when his mouth encircled your nipple, sucking and biting carelessly to take you apart even further. 

“Fuck. Gonna cum soon. Can’t take it anymore,” Jeonghan groaned, sucking and leaving a train of love bites from your tit to your neck. You bit your lip and nodded, sighing at how full you felt. You were right there with him, your muscles burning and your cunt pulsing as that familiar feeling spread through your body. 

“D-don’t pull out.” you gulped, curling your back before moaning. 

Jeonghan gave you a kiss. “Have to, baby,” he told you, trapping your wrists with one hand as the other one found your clit again. You whimpered and squirmed under him, weakly shaking your head. 

“Please?” you sighed, bucking your hips. Jeonghan groaned as his lips found yours, his breath hitching. 

“God—Are you sure?” he asked, his thrust becoming sloppy. 

You nodded soundlessly, feeling like you were floating. As if the world around you didn’t exist.

“Yes, Hannie,” you hooked a leg around his waist, making the both of you moan in each other’s mouth. 

Jeonghan felt even deeper now, massaging your bundle of nerves until he felt you starting to cum around him. He cursed at the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his cock, your body going slack against his. He stilled as his warm cum started filling you, softly moving to fuck his release deep inside. 

You curled your back in pleasure, exhaling a long breath as you relished the dizzying feeling. 

Jeonghan let go of your wrists to cup your cheek, pressing a long kiss on your parted lips before resting his face in the crook of your neck. He stroked your sides as he tried to catch his breath, planting more soft kisses there as his hips slowly moved against yours, before finally stopping. 

You stayed like that for a moment, feeling Jeonghan’s chest rise and fall as his cock remained lodged inside of you. Only when you started to feel your mixed release dripping from where you were joined he slowly lifted his hips to let his cock fall out of you. 

You bit your lip at the feeling, already missing the closeness you shared. 

Jeonghan sat up and fixed his hair before helping you up, holding your hand as he wordlessly walked to the bathroom with you. 

“Are you okay, ducky?” he asked softly after running the shower. You gave him a smile, nodding. “I’m good, Hannie. Are you?” you asked him, your smile growing when he nodded. 

“Of course,” he squeezed your cheek before signaling for you to enter the shower, watching you step inside before following you. 

Sunlight warmed your face, the fraternity oddly quiet compared to the night before. You rubbed your tired eyes before turning to an already awake Jeonghan, blinking at the ceiling as if he was deep in thought. 

“Hey,” you said softly, cuddling up next to him. 

Jeonghan smiled, putting his arm around you. 

“Hi ducky.” he sweetly rubbed your back, tracing patterns on his shirt you were wearing. 

You tried not to think too much about what had happened between you two. You weren’t ready to face the consequences of your actions yet, not today at least. 

“Do you think Soonyoung saw us?” you then asked him quietly, tilting your head. 

Jeonghan got quiet for a moment, momentarily stopping the tracing on your back as he looked at you. 

“Yeah. Probably.” 

“I think so too,” you hummed, resting your face against his chest. “Hopefully,” you added before smiling, closing your eyes again. 

“Right.” Jeonghan looked at you, his fingers finding your hair again. 

You didn’t realize how quiet the room had gotten again. 

The distant laughing and shouting from the group of boys running around at the school’s football field brought a surprisingly comforting atmosphere–almost calming as the ball got kicked around from left to right.

Your eyes easily found Soonyoung’s figure. He was hard to miss. Maybe you were just naturally drawn to him, despite the doubt that had started growing inside of your head. 

It had merely started as a tiny seed, a speck of uncertainty that had grown into something bigger—clouding your mind ever since that day not long ago. The same day where you ended up sleeping with Jeonghan. 

It had only been a few days since then, but you just couldn’t figure out why you were starting to fear this plan of Jeonghan somehow working. 

It’s not that you had even an inkling of trust in this plan—that hadn’t progressed one bit, mind you—It was just that Jeonghan seemed to have some kind of magical power to get whatever he wanted. 

He was alluring. A pretty face that knew just what to say and when to say it was truly a deadly combination. You were sure he could convince you to jump in a ditch if he smiled at you right. 

Maybe you were right to enjoy your time with Jeonghan while you figured out what you really wanted. It was no use to put an end to it now—not when your new friendship with Jeonghan was making you feel a lot happier than you’ve been for the past few years. Nothing wrong with that, right?

“Keep still,” Jeonghan teasingly pulled you back by your lock of hair he was braiding, snapping you out of your train of thought. 

“Ow!” you complained with a pout, giggling when Jeonghan tsked at your obvious exaggeration. 

You were sitting in front of his body with your legs crossed, plucking at the blades of grass that tickled the palms of your hands. 

“Didn’t you like football, Hannie?” you frowned as your eyes followed the flock of boys running around, ignoring how he sighed whenever you moved too much for his liking. He hummed, carefully tying the bottom of your braid before finally letting go of your hair. 

You quickly turned your head, Jeonghan watching your braid snapping to the side as you looked back at him. 

“Then why aren’t you playing?” you asked him, watching him chuckle at you before carefully moving your braid over your shoulder. 

“Can’t I spend time with my girlfriend?” he smirked at you, laughing when you rolled your eyes. “I’m being serious,” you sighed, scooting to sit next to him. “Me too.” Jeonghan grinned, draping his arm around your shoulder right as Soonyoung giggled in the background. You briefly glanced at him, exhaling in amusement as you watched him laugh, running to the other side of the field with others hot on his heels, kicking the ball in the direction of the goal.

Your eyes naturally found Jeonghan again, watching the corners of his mouth lift up as you made eye contact. For some reason the energy felt heavier in this moment, and you were overly aware of how close you were sitting. You could feel his chest expand as he breathed, smell the peach shampoo off his dark hair—or the subtle peppery, bergamot scent from his perfume that mixed in whenever he moved.

You gave him a half-smile before quickly diverting your gaze down back to the grass, routinely pulling at the blades again. 

“Did you—Did you ever talk to him?” you scrunched your eyebrows momentarily as you broke the silence, shortly looking at Jeonghan before watching the blades of grass in your hand get carried away by the wind.

“Hm?” Jeonghan leaned into you at your question, his fingers finding the end of your braid to toy with.

“I mean—Did you talk to Soonyoung for me?” you clarified, looking at him sparingly.

“Oh—right. Yeah, I did,” He told you, making you kind of worried with the way he didn’t share more. 

“And…?” You asked unsure, feeling more and more insecure by the second. Even the possibility of catching Soonyoung’s eye after all of these years brought goosebumps to your skin.

“He said you’re insanely cute,” Jeonghan told you, watching your reaction. 

You blinked in surprise, your lips forming a subtle pout as you took in his words. Slowly, you nodded, flashing Jeonghan a small smile. “Really?” you asked him, caught off guard. Jeonghan nodded, making you giggle by squeezing your cheek. “Yes, really. I mean, who could ever resist you? It was bound to happen eventually,” he shrugged, making you cringe and bump your shoulder into his chest. 

Truth was, Jeonghan was lying straight through his teeth. He had never talked with Soonyoung about you after making his promise to you. He was never planning on it, either. He didn’t know why, but for some reason he just didn’t want to. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn’t want to put an end to this fake relationship. Not when being with you felt like remembering something warm from a dream he didn’t want to forget.

“Hey guys!” Soonyoung exclaimed happily as he ran up to Jeonghan and you, a football tucked under his arm. “Did you see me score?!” he carelessly dropped the football before plopping down on the grass in front of the two of you, letting the ball roll a bit before settling beside him.

“Oh, of course we did Soonyoungie!” Jeonghan smiled at him, and you felt his hand find your shoulder again as he fed him the little white lie. “You did so well,” 

You watched Soonyoung, his cute eyes progressively getting smaller upon getting praised by his older friend. He giggled sweetly, meeting your eye as he smiled open-mouthed, like a puppy waiting to get a treat.  

“You were great,” you nodded at him, your body responding to having him in front of you after finding out what he’d supposedly said about you.  

“Thank you, y/n!” Soonyoung giggled again, pouting in satisfaction. He looked almost shy, yet his demeanor quickly changed when he realised he actually came to ask something.

“Oh—Mingyu and I were thinking of cooking some meat and having drinks at home. You guys are coming too, right?” he looked between Jeonghan and you, his face relaxed as he expected you’d say yes. 

You opened your mouth to answer, but Jeonghan started speaking right before you got the chance to. “We are actually about to head to y/n’s place, right ducky?” Jeonghan asked with his mouth dangerously close to your ear, his fingers starting to stroke your shoulder over your top. 

You looked over at Jeonghan for a second before looking at Soonyoung. “We were?” you blinked dumbly before realising Jeonghan had made it up on the spot. He chuckled. “Yeah, we were going to work on the project for a bit,” he simply said, and if you didn’t know any better you’d believe him.

“Argh, the project?” Soonyoung scratched behind his ear, smiling playfully.

“Mhm,” Jeonghan only smiled. 

“Well, maybe you guys could come after? Seungcheol hyung got us a bunch of weed, it’s gonna be fun!” Soonyoung pushed himself up from the floor as he boasted about tonight, hoping to convince his hyung.

“Yeah, maybe,” Jeonghan said uninterestedly, patting your back before the two of you mimicked the blonde-haired boy and got up from the grass.

As you walked the opposite direction of Soonyoung, exiting the somewhat crowded football field while bumping shoulders with Jeonghan, you found yourself sneaking a look at his pretty face.  

His big eyes always drew you in, making you smile as you called his name. There was a hint of playfulness behind his eyes as he looked at you, as if he’d already predicted your action. 

“Work on the project?” you only said, cocking up your eyebrow in curiosity. 

Jeonghan chuckled, shrugging. “I want to hang out with you,” he admitted. “Just us two.” he added, smiling. “Why, did you want to be with Soonyoungie?” he smirked, his hand bumping against yours. He looked down for a second before looking back at you. 

You looked away, failing to hide your smile. “I mean, isn’t that the whole reason why we’re doing this?” you chuckled, hearing him silently giggle. “Sure,” he hummed, smiling cheekily. 

Jeonghan silently grabbed your wrist when the distance between you became too big for his liking, closing his eyes in a smile when you looked up at the sudden touch. 

“We can go hang with them later, how does that sound ducky?” Jeonghan asked, his tone one of a kindergarten teacher affirming a small child. You hummed, and when Jeonghan silently linked your pinkies together you tried to remain calm. Collected. 

“We’ll see,” you said, sneaking a look down at your hands. 

Jeonghan almost grinned when he noticed, liking how you tried to act cool, as if you felt normal about it. Only, you could tell what he was doing, mustering up your courage to convince him you did feel very much normal about linking pinkies with him. 

“You do know Soonyoung isn’t around, huh?” you gave him a look, smiling when he did too. 

“I know,” he simply said. “But others might see us. It’s called being prepared, baby.” he purred, making you roll your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your amusement even if you tried. 

“Whatever.” you sighed, making the corners of Jeonghan’s mouth twitch. 

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to help me?” you narrowed your eyes at Jeonghan, who was currently busying himself with smelling each bottle of perfume you had in your possession. 

“Found my favorite,” Jeonghan turned to show you the perfume you usually wore, taking his time spraying it on his wrist and letting it dry down before smelling it on his skin. He sighed in contentment, smiling before setting it back. 

“It smells best on you,” he concluded with a small shrug before finally walking towards you, sighing when he actually saw you with your laptop open. 

“You really want to work on the project?” He took a seat next to you on the bed before crossing his arms over his chest. You gave him a look. “You mean the project you haven’t worked on for a single minute? Yeah,” you looked at him, making Jeonghan throw his head back in a sigh. “You know I’ve actually helped a lot, smartypants.” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, by bossing us around maybe.” you cocked up your eyebrow at him, making Jeonghan scoff in disbelief. “Alright, Miss know-it-all. What have you done, then?” he sighed, smiling at you. 

You shrugged, letting him snatch your laptop from your lap. He scrolled through the webpage that was open, brows furrowing slightly as he took everything in. 

“Wait, ducky, did you code this?” he looked at you, slightly raising his eyebrows as he waited for your reply. You only nodded. 

“Huh,” he exclaimed, blinking at the screen. “How did you do that? Isn’t that like—hard?” he frowned. “I didn’t know you could do this,” he continued, a smile growing on his lips. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “Well, I am majoring in software engineering, Jeonghan,” you explained, watching a pout grow on his face. 

“Wow, I didn’t know that. How did I not know? You’re so talented, y/nnie,” Jeonghan smiled cheekily, pinching your cheek in affection. You whined as you slapped his hand away, laughing at him. “You never asked,” you chuckled, feeling a little shy. 

“Mhm, you’re right. I guess I didn’t…” he clicked his tongue, remembering how he had never really spoken to you prior to getting paired together for the project, how getting to know you had been the least of his worries back then. 

He smiled watching you trying not to sulk, finding it cute that you were obviously thinking about his past indifference as well. 

“M sorry about that, ducky. I know I annoyed you a lot in the past,” Jeonghan looked at you, fingers instinctively finding your braid again. He ran the pad of his thumb down the textured hair, his eyelashes fluttering as he blinked slowly. 

You rolled your eyes playfully, the corners of your mouth tugging up as you realized how much you despised him then. That same smirk that used to irk you whenever you caught Jeonghan’s mischievous expression from the back of class was now the very reason you felt so alive. 

“You still annoy me,” you bit your lip trying to hide your smile, laughter bubbling from your throat when your words seemed to catch him off guard, his mouth opening in an ‘o’. 

“You’re so gonna regret that.” Jeonghan smirked, quickly setting aside your laptop to tickle you. You let out a scream, trying to squirm away as his fingers crept up your sides to your armpits. 

“Jeonghan! Stop!” you laughed, your body instinctively flinching from the attack. 

Jeonghan giggled, his eyes almost manic as he relished in the reaction he was getting out of you. “My god, I don't think I’ve ever gotten you this loud, ducky,” Jeonghan smirked, getting one more squeal out of you before allowing you to grab his wrists to stop him. 

The boy in front of you definitely did not realize how his words evoked a certain memory with you, cheeks growing hotter as you’re forced to replay the images you’d been actively pushing away for days. 

You let go of his wrists when he spoke, “Alright, let’s work on this project then,” he hummed, completely oblivious as he opened your laptop. 

You caught yourself looking directly at his mouth, a shameful kind of tingle spreading through your body. You forced your eyes away, looking at your lap instead. You missed his mouth, his kisses. You think you could kiss Jeonghan for hours if he let you. Oh my god, focus, you thought to yourself.

“You okay?” Jeonghan cocked up his brow as he noticed your tense body. You nodded. 

“God, I hate this. Okay, whatever,” Jeonghan trailed off as he scrolled through your notes, already dreading having to waste his energy on school. “Did you know I once bribed a teacher so I didn’t have to do a group project?” he briefly looked up to catch your reaction, hiding a smirk as he started typing something. 

“What?” You barely caught what he said, gulping when he started laughing out loud. “Just kidding. But it sounded quite believable, right?” he licked his lips, a lock of his hair falling in his eye. 

You were sitting so close to each other. You only had to lean in and you could experience the same dizzying sensation of meeting his warm lips again. 

So, you did. Jeonghan blinked in surprise when you gave him a chaste kiss, high on adrenaline and drunk on your desires, not giving him a chance to react before kissing him for a second time.

A part of you felt like crying, unable to place all the different kinds of thoughts and feelings that were whirling inside of you. It was all so unfamiliar, and you felt too vulnerable. If Jeonghan were to reject your advances you were afraid of how it would all manifest. 

“y/n—“ Jeonghan’s words got muffled when you kissed him again, pushing your laptop away from his lap to kiss him properly. 

His hands found your cheeks, tongue eagerly meeting yours as his body crowded you until your back met the mattress. Before you knew it he was already on top of you. “You little minx,” Jeonghan mumbled jokingly, squeezing your face before kissing you harder. 

You knew you probably shouldn’t have initiated anything, but it all just felt so natural. You kept kissing him, sucking on his bottom lip before teasingly biting the supple skin. Jeonghan groaned, gripping your shoulders to keep you pinned below him. 

“Thought you wanted to go see Soonyoung?” Jeonghan asked, moaning when you purposely tugged on the ends of his hair. 

You shook your head, taking in a sharp breath when Jeonghan broke the kiss to tentatively encircle your throat with this hand—softly—just to see your reaction. 

He seemed oddly surprised to see the aroused look in your eyes, smirking as he softly leaned in—only to stop right before his lips made contact with yours. He giggled meanly when you tried to kiss him back, a brief veil of shame tingling your body. 

“Aw, you wanna kiss me that bad?” he cooed, pouting at you mockingly. Jeonghan loved to have you like this, all shy and nervous. So unsure. 

“Are you not gonna answer me, ducky?” Jeonghan tightened his grip on your neck a little, biting his lip as he smiled cockily watching your eyes widen. Only, he easily could tell you wanted more. 

“You like this, huh?” he grinned. 

You tried to nod. “Like anything u do, Hannie,” you admitted, making him mumble a curse in response. 

Your words only spurred him on more, and a euphoric feeling spread through his body as he watched you sprawled out underneath him with his hand fanned out over your throat. The sudden high caught him off guard. 

He gave your nose a soft kiss, softly pulling away to look at you. He paused for a moment before letting go of you, smiling apologetically when you seemed confused. 

“What’s wrong?” you whispered, frowning. 

He sighed. “I don’t know about this, ducky,” Jeonghan slowly turned on his side and moved a lock of your hair from your face, not quite knowing why he suddenly felt this odd feeling brooding inside of his chest. 

You mimicked him by turning on your side, staying quiet for a moment as you thought. “Do you… regret what happened?” you whispered, suddenly feeling insecure. 

Jeonghan shook his head. “No. No, baby. You know I want to—It’s just—We shouldn’t, you know? We’re only…” he sighed, not finishing his sentence.

You slowly nodded, but you really didn’t care about what was right and what wasn’t. You didn’t want to say it, but you having sex had been because of Jeonghan initiating first. It was his fault, so you really didn’t care. 

You leaned in to peck his pout. “I know… I do, just—just for a little bit, Hannie,” you got even closer, the tops of your fingers grazing his chest before finding their way down. Jeonghan stroked your cheek before leaning in to softly kiss you again, sighing as your hand brushed over his crotch. 

Despite knowing what was right, he wanted this too. Jeonghan needed to have you. Over and over again. 

He began to undo your jeans as your hand slipped down his, smiling as you started stroking his hardening cock. 

Jeonghan moaned at the feeling of your hand pumping his length, biting his lip whilst the tips of his fingers teased your slit over your panties. 

“No teasing.” you warned him, earning a knowing grin from the boy in front of you. 

“Alright,” he released a shaky breath, fingers easily finding your wet clit to play with. 

You were both still laying on your sides, and your head tipped back as pleasure bloomed inside of you. Jeonghan took the opportunity to kiss your neck, his teeth dragging across your skin to incite a gasp from you. 

“More, Hannie,” you whispered, angling your hips for him. 

Jeonghan sucked the skin under your ear, keeping his fingers at a set pace without straying from your bundle of nerves. He knew you’d be asking him for more soon, and that’s exactly why he didn’t plan on giving in just yet. 

You squeezed his cock at the lack of response, making him meet your eye as you began moving your hand faster. You could just tell by the look he was giving you he was up to something, sighing at him in pleasurable annoyance. 

You went even faster, earning a high-pitched whimper from Jeonghan, who still didn’t give you what you asked for. 

Agitated, you halted all movement to hook your leg over his hip, pressing your lips against his while starting to grind your cunt against his hard cock. 

Jeonghan firmly grabbed your hip, moaning against your lips as he grinded with you. 

Your tongue slipped into his warm mouth, your arms encircling his head to keep kissing him. 

Annoying, suffocating clothes found the floor, your bodies quick to find each other again after discarding all of the pieces of fabric.

“Fuck,” Jeonghan mumbled against your lips. He squeezed your ass, helping move you against him till the both of you were left panting in each other’s mouths. 

“Please, Hannie. M-more,” you moaned at the friction of his length gliding between your pussy lips, his tip rubbing your clit as his balls pressed against your entrance. 

Still, Jeonghan wanted to tease you. An image of you crying, begging for his cock haunted his head, and he needed to see that come true with his own eyes right this moment.

“Can’t,” he said between kisses, making you whine. 

“Hannie…” you tried again, nibbling on his bottom lip. 

Jeonghan smacked your ass hard, gripping your skin as he moved you harder against him. You moaned at the pain and pleasure, your hand finding a lock of his hair to hold onto. 

“Y-Yes we can.” you softly tugged on his hair, commanding his attention. You pecked his lips softly, hoping to get what you wanted. 

Jeonghan chuckled in amusement, spanking your ass again. “No.” he said, smiling at the hiss leaving your mouth. 

He took notice of you getting agitated instead, figuring if he wanted you to cry for him he needed to fuck you to tears instead. 

“Hurry, Jeonghan.” you complained in annoyance, having had enough of his games. Jeonghan hummed, giving you a soft kiss before moving a hand down to grab his hard cock. “You’re so needy,” he said in amusement before aligning his tip with your entrance, only getting a breathless sigh in response. 

He sheathed himself inside of you in one go, moaning at the feeling of your pussy. Oh, how he’d missed this. 

You whimpered at the stretch, hooking your leg tighter around his hip so it wouldn’t slide down. 

Jeonghan started kissing you roughly before beginning to thrust, wrapping his arms around you to keep you pinned against his body. You moaned against his lips, gripping his locks for support as you relished in the feeling of him fucking you. 

Still, he had this urge to be even closer to you, though he didn’t know how. Jeonghan rolled you on your back, looking into your eyes as he set a slower, much deeper pace. 

“Hannie…” you sighed, cupping his cheeks to give him a long kiss. Jeonghan smiled at you when you pulled back, resting his forehead against yours as he kept going. 

He suddenly felt the need to be gentle with you, to show you how much you had started to mean to him in such a short period of time. He couldn’t stop looking at your face—at the way your jaw tightened every time he bottomed out, or how your mouth opened and closed autonomously. Your drawn eyebrows twitched with every sound spilling out of you, the sounds like music to his ears. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your hips stuttering at how deep he was. “Don’t stop,” you moaned, putting your arms around his torso. You bit your lip as you looked up at him, Jeonghan’s fingers slowly stroking up your side before he wrapped his arms around your body too. You looked at each other, room quiet apart from your mixed pleasure, together with the forgotten sounds of the bed creaking. Rhythmic, deep thrusts brought you both closer to the edge, your breathing getting louder as you forgot about the outside world. Or the situation you were in. 

As you came around Jeonghan with a guttural moan, he found himself losing control. You pressed your lips to his, nails digging into his back at the peak of your orgasm. Jeonghan spilled inside of you next, holding you tighter with a groan to match yours. 

Your body squirmed, hips slowly grinding against him as you came down from your high. You peeled your lips from Jeonghan, who tried to catch his breath as you gave him a smile. 

Somewhere there, he contemplated if he’d just made love to you, blinking through his haze. Did he? Did you think so too?

He gave your cheek a peck before rolling off you, feeling your warm body seeking his. “Tired?” he asked, stroking your shoulder. You hummed while nodding, putting the covers over your bodies. 

As Jeonghan lay on his back, catching his breath and watching your blinking, tired eyes grow heavier, it suddenly all made sense to him. The stubborn unwillingness to push Soonyoung to ask you out, the selfish need to keep you close for just a tad longer, or the odd knot in his stomach whenever he looked at you. 

His eyes found your soft lips, swollen and chapped from kissing you for what felt like hours. Your mouth shyly curled up as you snuggled against him, the soft pads of your fingers stroking his chest before nuzzling your cheek against his arm. Your naked bodies pressed together, seeking closeness despite still feeling hot from the sex.

He felt it as he looked at you. A warm feeling spread through his chest, reaching every corner and crevice of his body. 

Jeonghan had fallen for you. 

Before he could stop himself he gently lifted up his hand to stroke your cheek, resisting the urge to sigh when your eyes closed instinctively. 

He also realized he had been sabotaging your chances with Soonyoung—not intentionally, of course. Or maybe it was.

Fuck, he felt bad. He felt like an asshole for being so selfish. For falling in love with you.

A part of him screamed at him to just keep going like he had been. Just for a little bit. But it felt unfair to you, despite how much he liked spending time with you. It had been so easy making you a part of his life, his routine—as natural as breathing. He didn’t want it to end.

But he knew you were doing this for one reason only. It was his problem he had fallen for you, and from now on he knew he had to help you. 

You were amazing, funny, and smart—And Soonyoung would see that too. He knew he would. He had to. And even though Soonyoung had never explicitly brought you up, you were insanely cute. 

“Hey, y/nnie?” Jeonghan whispered, secretly hoping you would be already asleep. 

“Hm?” you opened one eye before the other, making Jeonghan smile weakly as he started stroking your hair. 

He almost couldn’t get the words out, his voice seemingly stuck in his throat. He forced a cough. “Maybe it would be a good idea to ask Soonyoung out yourself,” he suggested, his tone devoid of sincerity. 

You blinked at him, your brain barely functioning with how tired you felt. 

“Really?” you whispered, failing to hide the frown creasing your brows. The words almost hurt your stomach. Even if you wanted to, you didn’t think you’d have that kind of courage. 

“Yeah. I forgot he’s kinda terrible at making the first move. He can be shy like that. He will definitely say yes, though,” Jeonghan nodded, giving you a smile. 

Slowly, you nodded too. “I hope so.” you mumbled, making Jeonghan chuckle. 

“I know so. Told you he thinks you’re cute,” 

“Alright,” a smile slowly spread over your face. Jeonghan did know Soonyoung best, and if he thought it would work then you would at least try to gather your courage. 

“Thank you, Hannie.” You kissed Jeonghan’s cheek before closing your eyes again, relaxing against his warm body as he pulled you closer. 

You couldn’t help but feel sad it would really be over like this. 

After three whole days of contemplating on how to approach Soonyoung, you were at a loss. It also didn’t help that Jeonghan hadn’t texted you at all in the last couple of days, which was unlike him. 

You chewed on your bottom lip as you sat outside on a school bench, ignoring the background noise as the people around you went on about their day. 

You really missed Jeonghan. And although you realized you had probably only played a small role in his life, and you had only started to get to know him for a short time, you grieved the time you spent together. 

You exhaled a long sigh. 

It didn’t matter anymore. This had all been for Kwon Soonyoung anyway. 

You had spotted him twice in the last few days. Once on campus, and once sitting outside on the same bench you were sitting on now. 

You were hoping he would walk by and spot you, and the conversation would flow naturally from there. A part of you was nervous you would actually see him, afraid you’d shut down and not know what to say, make a complete fool of yourself. 

At least you’d have your answer then. You could go back to your boring life to study and not go out again in the safe bubble you’d lived in your entire life. 

That had been your life, and you were happy with it. But now, the thought of going back to the way things were seemed boring to you. 

No, you needed this to work. You were done sabotaging yourself.

All the doubt, the anxiety, the newfound reluctance that had been growing—it was all merely fear of change. Fear of stepping out of your comfort zone—and maybe, even fear of happiness. 

This had all been so scary for you, so new and intense. But it would all be worth it soon. You prayed it would be.

“y/n?”

You snapped out of your haze to find Joshua standing in front of you, his lips curled up in a kind smile. 

“Oh, Joshua,” you straightened your back and smiled back at him, noticing the black-rimmed glasses sitting on his nose. Jeonghan had once joked about him wearing them as a fashion statement, and you had to stop yourself from suddenly laughing in his face like a freak when you noticed the lack of lenses in them.

Thankfully, Joshua didn’t notice the weird smile showing on your face. 

“How are you doing? I heard you’re getting cosy with Jeonghan these days,” he smirked as he sat down next to you. 

You shyly chuckled, shrugging. Though Jeonghan had audibly called what you were doing ‘fake dating’, the two of you had never explicitly mentioned the D word to anyone. Just to avoid scaring off Soonyoung. 

For some reason you felt bad for lying to Joshua. You felt like you had genuinely connected with him at the party, and though you hadn’t spent much time with him outside of that one night, you had this urge to tell him the truth. 

He wasn’t just Soonyoung or Jeonghan’s friend anymore, he felt a little like yours too. You trusted him. 

“It’s nothing,” you told him with a sigh, still pondering on what to do. Maybe a fresh perspective could give you some insight. You kinda needed someone to talk to about this, and what you and Jeonghan did was in the past now anyways.

“Oh? Sure doesn’t seem like nothing with those raunchy hickeys Jeonghan was walking around with the other day.” Joshua had a mischievous twinkle in his eye, and for a split second you could see Jeonghan in him. Maybe that's why you felt like you could be honest with him. 

Your face heated up, trying to suppress a smile as Joshua grinned at you. 

“Joshua, can I…tell you something? And promise it stays between us two?”

Joshua cocked up his brow in curiosity, but nodded nonetheless. “Of course,” he told you. 

You let out a deep sigh. “Jeonghan is helping me get with Soonyoung,” you said carefully, afraid of what Joshua might think. “It’s just for show, or whatever.” you added, watching Joshua cross his arms over his chest. 

“You’re not really together?” he asked, making you hum. 

“So it’s all for Soonyoung? It’s him you like?” he frowned, and you nodded at him. 

“Gosh, and here I thought Jeonghan finally stopped hiding that thing he had for you,” Joshua chuckled, shaking his head. You frowned at him. “Guess I was wrong,” he sighed with a smile. 

“What thing?” you leaned into him, cocking your head to the side. 

Joshua paused for a moment, blinking. “You know, the teasing in class, trying to get your reaction,” he explained as if you were aware he had actually been targeting you. 

“What do you mean? He never teased me.” you frowned. 

Joshua laughed at that. “Sure he did. He talked about you a lot, you know. How he loved getting a reaction out of you. You really never noticed?” 

You pouted, confused. “I mean, he did annoy me. But I didn’t think it was targeted to me. I don’t think it was.”

Joshua laughed again, his eyes turning smaller as he did. “It definitely was,” he told you in amusement. “I always suspected he had a little crush on you, but he would never admit it to me. Just said he liked teasing you,” Joshua shrugged. “Guess I was wrong, since he’s helping you with Soonyoung.” 

Slowly, you nodded. “Right,” you agreed. But there was an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach thinking about the concept of Jeonghan having a ‘thing’ for you. 

“You sure looked convincing, though. I’ll give you that. You’ve got everyone fooled.” 

His words didn’t reassure you like you had hoped they would. You and Jeonghan needed to look like you were into each other, but not too much. Because would Soonyoung really give you a chance if he thought Jeonghan and you were serious?

“What do you think I should do? Maybe this whole thing has gone too far already,” you chewed on your bottom lip, panic seeping through your body. You should’ve stopped after making out with Jeonghan. And you really shouldn’t have had sex with him. The speculation alone would be dangerous for your potential with Soonyoung. 

Joshua put his hand on your shoulder. “I wouldn’t worry too much, y/n. Just go hang out with Soonyoung? If it feels good go ask him out.” 

You sighed. “Alright,” you nodded. “I will.” 

Joshua chuckled and pushed himself up, fixing the strap of his leather crossbody bag before briefly looking down at his phone to check the time. 

“I’ve got to run. Tell me how it went?” he cocked up his brow. 

“Okay.” you smiled a little. “Thanks, Joshua,” 

Joshua winked at you, turning his body before quickly stopping himself and looking back at you again. 

“Oh, and y/n?” he failed to hide a grin. “Try not to sleep with your fake boyfriend.” 

You didn’t know how to react as he walked off theatrically.

As days passed, and you found yourself making more and more ridiculous excuses as to not approach Soonyoung, a sudden golden opportunity fell right in the palm of your hands. 

Maybe you manifested it, since you hadn’t stopped daydreaming about all the different ways the talk you’d inevitably needed to have would turn out. 

You were listening to some music as you did some minor grocery shopping, the basket in your hand filled with an array of fruits, vegetables, and a scandalous amount of snacks to balance everything out. 

There was a soft tap on your shoulder, and you quickly turned around expecting you’d been in someone’s way, but instead saw Soonyoung’s chubby cheeks bulge in a cute way as he smiled at you. 

You think you preferred the term God’s intervention. 

“Hi,” you smiled shyly after taking out your earbuds. 

“Hey! What’re you doing here?” Soonyoung giggled, clutching a protein bar in his hand. 

You paused briefly. “Grocery shopping?” you said slowly, earning a laugh from the boy. 

“Right. Of course.” Soonyoung laughed, peeking in your basket. “Cooking something tonight?” 

You nodded. “That’s the plan. I just needed some vegetables for my stir-fry,” you chuckled. 

“I wish I could cook. I’m banned from the kitchen,” Soonyoung scratched behind his ear, pouting. 

You laughed at that. “Did you set off the fire alarm or something?” 

“Twice...” 

You laughed again, making Soonyoung smile. “You should cook for me sometime! Maybe I can learn from you.” he chuckled, and the request alone made your ears burn. Was he…?

“Y-yeah—Sure. I’m a good teacher,” you told him, and you suddenly noticed Soonyoung was wearing his football uniform. 

“Oh. Do you have a game today?” The two of you slowly made your way to the cash register, chatting as you put your groceries on the conveyor belt. 

“Yep. I’m about the head there right now,” he explained, waiting for you as you paid for your stuff. “You remember how we used to play together in elementary school?”

You chuckled at the memory as you walked out of the store together, reliving one of those moments in a very long time. 

“The teacher didn’t allow me to play anymore at one point,” you smiled innocently, watching Soonyoung laugh out loud as he remembered exactly why. 

“Yeah, because you would always kick the ball over the fence after losing.” he giggled, making you laugh as well.

“I was a sore loser,” you admitted with a shrug, smiling as you walked together. You briefly recognized how easy your conversation flowed with Soonyoung. Maybe you’d be able to muster up your courage after all. 

“If you won’t throw our ball anymore, we can play again sometime,” Soonyoung suggested, making your stomach jump. 

“Sure,” you replied in kind, as if you didn’t struggle to keep yourself from stuttering. 

You made eye contact with Soonyoung, who smiled at you. You smiled back at him, but the corners of your mouth slowly started faltering as you realized you had to finally ask him out. You could faintly hear the yelling of a group of younger boys as you approached the football field, and you knew you had to act fast before it would already be too late. 

“Hey, Soonyoung?” you called out his name a bit insecure, slowing your steps to fully get his attention on you. 

Soonyoung lifted up his brows with that same smile, slowing down to match your pace, which came to an abrupt halt.

“Um,” you gulped. You took in a breath. “Do you… Would you like to go on a date—with me?” you inhaled deeply, trying to slow your breathing. You bit your bottom lip, already cursing yourself for your choice of words. Did you ask at the wrong time? Should you have asked differently? 

When Soonyoung’s smile faded, and a confused expression took over his handsome face, you started rambling, “I mean—I’ve liked you since we were kids and—and—If you don’t like me like that then that’s fine too. I-I just thought—“

“y/n,” Soonyoung cut you off abruptly, placing his hand on your shoulder. 

“You’re a very nice girl,” he started. You already knew what would follow. 

“And you’re truly great, like really—“ Soonyoung paused before sighing. “I’m sorry y/n. I’m kinda seeing someone…” he said quietly, and by his tone you could tell he genuinely felt bad. 

Slowly, you nodded at him. “Ah,” you forced a smile. “No worries.” you chuckled, but really you wanted to throw up. 

“I’m sorry…” Soonyoung told you again, almost pouting. 

“No—no, it’s alright,” you nodded again, not really knowing what to do next. You felt like you still wanted to ask him one thing, just so you wouldn’t spend months pondering on the what if’s. 

“Did I ever have a chance?” you asked cautiously, knowing you probably wouldn’t like the answer. 

Soonyoung blinked at the question, caught off guard. He looked down for a moment, seemingly thinking about the question before ultimately shaking his head, slowly. 

You nodded understandingly. “Okay… Well, thank you for being honest, Soonyoung,” you briefly smiled at him, clearing your throat before speaking again, “I’ll see you around. Have a good game, okay?” you watched him nod apologetically before turning to walk away, chewing on the inside of your cheek as you started walking.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined heartbreak to be. It wasn't like your heart was breaking into a million pieces, you just felt…empty. 

Tears welled in the corners of your eyes, fingers instinctively starting to reach for your phone before stopping yourself. You sniffled as you realized you had no shoulder to cry on anymore, a pitiful sob shaking your chest as you remembered Jeonghan had left you on delivered for a week. 

There was purpose in your step as you made your way straight to the fraternity, not caring about any odd looks you were getting as you cried. 

You merely wiped your face once before ringing the doorbell, trying and failing to slow your excessive breathing as you waited for the door to open. 

The door swung open with a creak, revealing Mingyu with a smile on his face. “y/n!—Oh, what’s wro-“

“Where is he?” you sniffled, not waiting for an answer as you walked straight past Mingyu’s tall frame to Jeonghan’s bedroom. 

You decided against knocking, opening the door to find Jeonghan laying on his bed scrolling on his phone. He lifted his head at the sound of the door opening, eyes widening as you walked in with wet cheeks. 

“Where have you been?” you asked rather aggressively, eyebrows tightened as you tried to keep yourself from breaking down completely. Your lips trembled, walking up to Jeonghan who pushed himself to take in your current state. 

“y/nnie… what’s wrong?” he asked, quickly getting up from the bed before your fist weakly collided against his chest. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” you cried, fresh tears beginning to stream down your face. “I-I needed you and you disappeared,” you sobbed when Jeonghan’s arms pulled you in, hiding your face against his chest as he stroked your back comfortingly. 

“I’m sorry…” Jeonghan whispered, kissing your temple before sighing. 

You closed your eyes, holding him tightly as his familiar embrace warmed your body. 

Jeonghan felt your body shake against his as you cried, pressing his cheek against your hair as his hand found your locks. “I’m sorry…” he said again, his chest burning painfully at the state you were in. 

“He likes someone else.” you told him after a beat of silence. 

Jeonghan sighed, softly shaking his head at what you were telling him. He felt horrible now, blaming himself for everything. For giving your false hope, for building up you confidence—only to watch it all crumble down before his own eyes. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t been selfish. 

“Fuck, y/n—I’m so sorry…” he apologized again, tightening his grip on you. 

You sniffled, shaking your head. “‘s not your fault, Jeonghan.” you whispered, only making him feel worse. 

If you only knew, Jeonghan thought. He should’ve never approached you back then. He’d spend time reflecting on his actions in the last few days as he kept his distance from you, knowing that deep down it had all been for his own self-gain. Annoying you, approaching you at the party. All along this had been about you and him, even if he didn’t realize exactly how much he liked you before he even offered to help you. 

“It’s fine,” you concluded, sighing as you tried to stop yourself from crying. “It’s nothing new,” you croaked out, your voice breaking as you failed to stop the sob spilling out of you. 

“Shh, ducky,” Jeonghan grabbed your cheeks to meet his eyes, wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs as he looked at you. You gulped, tears brimming your pretty eyes. 

“Can I please stay?” you whispered, fishing his shirt as you looked at him pleadingly. Jeonghan nodded, pushing his forehead against yours as he closed his eyes. “Of course, baby,” he sighed before pulling away from you. 

Seeing you cry like this felt like a dagger to his chest. He wished nothing more than to take away your pain.

“You look so tired, ducky,” Jeonghan said while looking at you, wiping away another stray tear with his knuckle before nodding to his bed. “Take a nap, okay? Do you need anything? I can make you tea, or some snacks—“

“Just hold me, Hannie. Please?” you grabbed his hand, afraid he’d leave you. 

Jeonghan nodded, giving you a weak smile as you crawled into bed together. 

You sighed as you got comfortable against his chest, his warm arms already making you feel better. You nuzzled your cheek against him, resting your arm over his waist. 

You smiled when Jeonghan looked at you, smiling back at you as he stroked your hair. You couldn’t help but laugh, the corners of Jeonghan’s mouth tugging up as he watched you. “What are you laughing at, weirdo?” he softly squeezed your cheek. 

“I don’t know…” you admitted, your eyes feeling heavier as your exhaustion grew. 

“Go sleep, okay?” Jeonghan whispered, making you nod. 

You closed your eyes, softly sniffling as you became even more tired. You’d occasionally open your eyes to see Jeonghan looking back at you, your body becoming heavier as the minutes passed. 

“Hannie?” you whispered tiredly after a while, fighting to keep your eyes open as he cocked up his eyebrows. 

“Don’t leave again.” you told him, closing your eyes when he gently began to stroke your cheek. 

Jeonghan smiled sadly as he watched you sleep, your soft snores painfully familiar. He really didn’t deserve you. 

He didn’t know if he could keep promise what you were asking him, not when he had been the cause of your sadness. 

“How many times are you going to keep checking your phone?” Joshua crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the lockers, grinning when you glared at him. 

“I thought he would come today,” you pocketed your phone before starting to walk to your next class, Joshua humming next to you. 

“I don’t know, he seems off lately,” Joshua shrugged, making you frown. 

“He wasn’t at our project meeting today,” you pouted, resisting the urge to check your phone again. Thankfully Jeonghan wasn’t ignoring your messages anymore after seeing him, but that didn’t mean things were back to the way they were. Joshua was right, Jeonghan did seem off.

“How was that? You know, seeing Soonyoung,” Joshua asked carefully. 

You bit your lip as you thought before shrugging. “It was fine.” you said casually, making Joshua cock up a brow. 

“Really? You’re not, like, upset still?” you stopped walking once you reached your classroom, cocking your head to the side as you looked at Joshua. You then shrugged again.

“Not really…” you trailed off, pouting. “I feel oddly okay,” you nodded, giving Joshua a smile. Joshua hummed, not totally convinced. “Right,” he said, thinking. 

Truth is, you felt… good. As though a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. You also didn’t really understand why, maybe you were still in denial, but you felt like you could finally start to let go of Soonyoung.  

Joshua’s eyes strayed behind you when he spotted a figure resembling Jeonghan from the corner of his eye, watching his friend meet his eye before walking off without greeting him. Strange. 

You followed his line of vision, looking over your shoulder to see Jeonghan’s back turning around the corner.  

“Oh,” you said, perking up to give Joshua a quick look. “See you later, alright?” you told him before going to follow Jeonghan. 

Joshua watched you jog to catch up to Jeonghan, sighing with a smile as you disappeared from his vision. 

“Jeonghan!” you called once you got close to him, smiling as he turned to you, seemingly caught off guard. 

“Hey. You weren’t at our meeting today,” you said, adjusting your bag that had slipped down from the short jog. 

“Oh, y/n,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, making you frown. “I didn’t feel like coming,” he explained, his odd tone only leaving you more confused. 

“Oh, well, we could really use your help next time. It’s kinda messy without you there,” you chuckled, smiling at him. 

Jeonghan didn’t smile back at you, avoiding eye contact as he slowly opened his mouth to speak, “Listen, y/n… I’m—I’m dropping from the project,” he looked at you for a second, mumbling a ‘sorry’ before turning to enter the men’s restroom. 

His words felt like a knife to the heart. “What?” you mumbled, gulping as he disappeared again. You were starting to believe you were dumb to trust Jeonghan. Maybe this was all a game for his own entertainment after all, because why else would he just drop you like this? Right after you asked out Soonyoung? The timing of it all was odd. 

Anger bubbled up inside of you, shaking your head before following him inside. “What is your deal?” you spat, your jaw clenching as you watched him splash cold water in his face. 

Jeonghan looked at you through the mirror before turning with a sigh. “Nothing. I just—“

“Why are you lying to me?” you asked, trying your best not to cry in front of him. Your chest burned, making fists of your hands as you watched him blink dumbly. 

“I’m not lying, y/n.” Jeonghan raised his voice, only making you angrier. 

“Yes you are. Why are you being like this?” you gulped, afraid you weren’t able to hold your tears for much longer.

“I thought we were friends.” you said quietly, your voice breaking. 

Jeonghan swallowed a lump in his throat. 

“Was all the time we spent together just a lie?” you felt a tear run down your cheek, all your fears swirling around inside of you. You couldn’t help but feel like you’d lost the only thing that had made you feel so alive these past few weeks.

Jeonghan’s face hardened, his jaw tensing hearing your words. He took a step closer to you, grabbing your underarm. 

“I like you, y/n.” he said, the words making your stomach drop. 

“Can’t you see?” he added quietly. 

You didn’t know what to say, the noise in your head and the way Jeonghan was looking at you overwhelming you. You took a step back, slowly shaking your head as you made sense of it all. The lights in the bathroom were too bright, the sounds of the people in the hallway too loud. You could hear your heart pounding out of your chest and you wondered if Jeonghan could hear it too—you needed to leave. 

Jeonghan took a step forward again, not ready to let you go before finally laying his heart bare. “Stop having a crush on Soonyoung.” he whispered pleadingly, softly grabbing your hand in his. Your breath hitched.

“And come back to me.” his frustration softened into a plea, big eyes plagued with vulnerability as he waited for your reaction.

You can’t do this. 

You pulled your hand away, not saying a word as you rushed out of the bathroom, leaving Jeonghan by himself.

Tears clouded your vision, your head spinning and mind running as you rushed home. You couldn’t help but wonder if this had been the whole reason Jeonghan had offered to help you with Soonyoung. A part of you told yourself Jeonghan wasn’t that kind of person, yet you couldn’t confidently say you wouldn't have done the same. 

What did he even see in you? For how long had he liked you? And was he ever even helping you?

You hid under the covers in your bed, the warmth of the blanket comforting you a bit as you cried soundlessly. Why didn’t you feel angry? 

Maybe it had something to do with you not being upset after getting rejected by Soonyoung.

Did you even really want Soonyoung? Or maybe you just liked the idea of being wanted by someone.

You exhaled a shaky breath, hugging your pillow to your chest. You were so confused by everything. You knew you should feel some kind of way about this—whether it be anger or resentment—but the only thing you really wanted was to be hanging out with Jeonghan again. You imagined how things were before they all went wrong—talking, laughing for hours. Falling asleep next to him. 

His absence had hollowed you out these past few days. Soonyoung had never made you feel special. But Jeonghan… Jeonghan saw you. Everything you’d been longing for had been so easy for him to give. 

Maybe if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in the idea of liking Soonyoung, you would’ve seen what was in front of you all along. Maybe if this whole thing hadn’t started as a lie, your feelings would’ve been easier to untangle. But the one thing you couldn’t ignore was that you couldn’t lose Jeonghan.

The sky had darkened once you finally forced yourself out of your bed, dried tears decorating your cheeks as you rumbled through your bag to snatch your laptop. Maybe some trashy reality tv would help distract you.

As you lifted the laptop, a familiar object tumbled on the floor, rolling until it stilled in front of you. 

You lip twitched seeing your duck pen, your stomach twisting painfully. You bend down to pick it up, looking at it for a moment before taking in a sharp breath, lifting your arm to launch it straight against the wall with a pitiful whine. 

“Woah! What the hell?” Jaehee stood in the opened doorway with a puzzled look on her face, taking a second to evaluate the current state she’d found you in before slowly closing the door behind her. 

“What’s going on in here? Are you okay?” she pouted before engulfing you in a tight hug. You shook your head, sighing and resting your face against her shoulder. 

“Talk to me.” she whispered, rubbing your back. 

“You’ll think I’m crazy,” you sighed.

“I just paid a witch to curse Mingyu. I can handle crazy,” Jae let go of you to sit down on the bed with you, grinning at the cackle leaving your mouth.   

“Fuck—okay,” you rubbed your face. “Long story short: Jeonghan and I were never a thing. It was all a ploy to get Soonyoung. I asked him out a couple of days ago but he rejected me—“ Knowing how long you’d liked Soonyoung for, Jaehee already started pouting. “—But I’m fine—Oh, and Jeonghan just told me he likes me and then I ran away.” you finish with a sigh, making Jae’s eyes widen in surprise at the sudden twist. 

“That’s a lot to unpack,” she started, looking at you. “I don’t suppose you’re throwing stuff because you don’t like him back and feel incredibly sorry for it?” she asked almost sarcastically, crossing her arms over her chest.

You sighed and shook your head.

“So you do like him? Then what’s the problem?”

You blinked at her. “I… I don’t know,” you frowned, looking down at your lap. “It’s not that simple.”

Jae raised a brow. “What’s not simple? You like him, he likes you. Where’s the disaster in that?”

“You make it sound so easy,” you muttered.

She let out a breath, then softened, reaching for your hand. “y/n, you really need to stop thinking so much.” A small smile tugged at her lips.

You sighed. “It’s just—I don’t think I allowed myself to feel what I felt when I was with Jeonghan. I pushed it away, convinced myself all of those feelings were fake since they were supposed to be. What if I give it a shot and find out I was right?”

“You’re too stuck in your own head. I’ve seen the two of you. You can’t fake the way you look at each other—unless you’re both Oscar-worthy actors, which I seriously doubt,” she chuckled.

You bit your lip, slowly nodding.

“Well, text him.” Jaehee bumped her shoulder against yours, your chest tightening at the thought of Jeonghan. Your face grew hot.

“Text him to come over,” she encouraged you, the corners of her mouth lifting up. You shifted on the bed, pouting as you thought it over. 

Jae sighed at your apprehension and pulled out her phone, her nails tapping against the screen as she typed. 

“What are you doing?” you asked meekly, watching your friend turn off her phone with a satisfied expression on her face. “He’ll be here soon.” she only told you, her hands resting in her lap demurely. 

You blinked in surprise. “Huh?” you frowned. “Wha-What did you just send him?” you tried to reach for her phone, but Jaehee hastily got up from your bed moving her finger at you disapprovingly. “Nah-ah,” she sang, barely making an effort to hide the smirk on her face. 

“Jae.” you warned her, pushing yourself up slowly. 

“It’s nothing bad, promise! I just let him know that I can’t find you anywhere and your location is turned off,” she shrugged, making you gasp. 

“That’s not nothing!” you raised your voice, crossing your arms over your chest with a sigh. 

Jaehee exhaled a breath, giving you a smile as she hugged you again. “Don’t panic. Don’t you deserve to figure out what you’re really feeling?” she whispered, patting your head. You knew she was right. You nodded.

“Remember how it felt being his friend and just go from there,” she created some space between your bodies to look at you, smiling when you whispered a soft ‘okay.’ 

The two of you gave each other a look at the sound of a notification, reading Jeonghan’s ‘omw now’ message together. 

“He won’t take long,” Jae told you, making you inhale a sharp breath. “I’ll meet him at the door, okay? Just—Just wait here, y/n.” she said, looking at you for a second before starting to leave your bedroom.

The room fell quiet after that, your nerves buzzing louder than anything else. You couldn’t sit still, shifting on the bed as your mind raced. Every second felt like forever—until a knock sounded at the door.

“y/n?!” Jeonghan rushed inside with a panicked look on his face, eyebrows drawn with a pair of big eyes meeting yours. “Are you okay?” he sighed, visibly relaxing at the sight of you unharmed. 

You gulped, looking at him for a moment before abruptly getting up. You hastily grabbed the duck pencil from the floor and shoved it into his hand. 

“I don’t want this back.” you said firmly, your jaw clenching as you looked at him with manic eyes. 

He froze, staring at the object in his palm with confusion before lifting his gaze to you. Your anger faltered when you met his eyes, his pretty face making your own features soften despite yourself. 

You gave him a small, sad smile. 

“Hannie…” you whispered, tears burning in the corners of your eyes.

Your lip shook, pushing your face against his chest before you could stop yourself.

“I told you to never leave me again…” you mumbled, smiling at his familiar, comforting scent despite your tears. You put your arms around his body, embracing him tightly. “Please don’t…” you looked up at him, vulnerability creeping in at what you were saying.

Jeonghan only looked at you, his pink lips slightly ajar before meeting together in a subtle pout. 

You realized it then, how oblivious you had been this entire time. How you needed Jeonghan as much as you needed air. How much you couldn’t live without him—and, finally, how much you loved him.  

 “y/n…” Jeonghan whispered, really hoping he wasn’t wrong about what you were getting at.

Your lips curled up in a smile, softly cupping his cheeks before pulling him down to meet your lips with his. Jeonghan gasped against your mouth, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you as close as he could have you.  

You bit your lip shyly when you finally pulled away, seeing Jeonghan smile back at you in a way that made your chest tighten.

“I like you too, Hannie,” you said softly, reaching for his hand to link your fingers together. Jeonghan’s eyes shrunk as he smiled at you, keeping his free arm wrapped around you to keep you pressed close against him. 

“You like me, ducky?” he asked dumbfounded, squeezing your hand in his.

You shyly looked away, your smile growing wider as you nodded. “Yes…yes I do…” you told him, your face burning when you looked at him again. 

“I didn’t even want to think about Soonyoung, because—because you were there. I didn’t want our time to end, Jeonghan.” you whispered, frowning. “The thought of losing you… I couldn’t do it. I just need you.” you confessed, gulping nervously. 

Jeonghan giggled hearing your words, leaning in to kiss you hard. “Fuck, I’m such an idiot. I should’ve just asked you out from the start.” he breathed, pecking your lips again. 

He pulled away to look at you, a hint of vulnerability creeping in his big eyes. “You really like me?” he asked again, his lips curling up in a shy smile as he looked at you expectantly. 

You gently stroked his cheeks, your body tingling as you nodded. Looking at him, you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. 

“Yes, Hannie.” You sighed, your heart beating out of your chest. 

Jeonghan hugged you tightly, and somehow you were starting to feel emotional—the feeling reminded you of the first time he had held you in his bedroom. It felt as if you were coming home to a warm home after a long rainy day. It felt like drinking your favorite brand of coffee after a vacation, or having a dream you didn’t want to wake up from. 

You closed your eyes and listened to his heartbeat, slowly calming down from all of the adrenaline. 

You suddenly remembered what Joshua had told you, breaking the silence with a sudden silent laugh. 

“Hm?” Jeonghan stroked your hair, smiling as he imagined what you could be thinking of. 

“Did you try to annoy me on purpose? I mean—In class?” you pulled back to look at Jeonghan’s face, watching him blink at you in confusion before slowly grinning mischievously.

“Of course. Loved to see how many angry looks I could get from you,” he smiled, making you tsk. “I think I already kinda liked you back then, even if I didn’t realize,” he admitted with a chuckle. “You were always so polite. Even if you were shy you would smile at everyone,” his smile widened as he imagined it in his head.

“You really got on my nerves.” you hit his arm, making him only smile wider. 

“Yeah?” he teased you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders before giving you a kiss. 

“So you don’t want me to stay?” he asked, cocking his head to the side with a playful smile. 

You tried to hide how giddy you felt, your cheeks burning at his question. 

“Well, ducky?” he prodded, half teasing, half hoping you’d give him the green light. 

You got close enough to kiss him again, feeling Jeonghan sigh against your lips as you slowly pushed him back on the bed with you. 

The kiss deepened until all you could taste was him, warm and steady, the kind of sweetness that was becoming harder to imagine ever living without. Hands groped and lingered, yanking down fabric until the heat radiating off your bodies mixed together. 

Jeonghan rolled on top of you, taking his time kissing you from your lips down to your belly button as his eyes admired the sight of you. You bit your lip feeling his tongue lick a slow stripe on your upper thigh before inching down to your pussy, softly gasping when his warm tongue found your clit. 

Despite you not talking, you could feel that warm energy filling up the room, consuming you whole as Jeonghan savored you. You knew he felt it too, gentle fingertips brushing against your sides, hazed eyes watching you gasp and moan attentively.  

Your body writhed feeling him go faster, biting your lip as your tummy burned. Before you would find yourself lost in the deep end, your shaky hand reached for Jeonghan’s to stop him. 

If you were gonna cum, you wanted to do so with him. You needed him as close as you could have him, cupping his cheeks to bring him on top of you. 

“Yeah?” Jeonghan whispered against your mouth in the middle of a kiss, making you nod. “Yeah.” you answered, pecking his lips as you looked in his eyes. 

Jeonghan glided his tip over your entrance, collecting your wetness before slowly inching in, stretching you deliciously before bottoming out. 

“God,” Jeonghan breathed, pushing his lips against yours with an almost desperate plea while slowly starting to grind against you. 

You moaned fruitlessly when he set a faster pace, making Jeonghan echo your sounds at the way you were squeezing his cock. “C’mere,” he sighed, moving your legs over his thighs to feel you even deeper. Jeonghan linked your fingers together, pinning them down on the mattress as he licked into you. 

“Hannie,” you squeezed his hands, feeling the muscles in your body tighten. You think you could already cum like this, closer to him than you’ve ever been. 

Jeonghan nodded, sucking on your bottom lip hard enough to form a bruise. All you could hear were your breaths and whimpers, and all you could feel was the closeness you shared. 

“Cum, baby. Cum for me?” he asked breathlessly, going faster again. You let out a loud moan, nodding in agreement as the sound of skin slapping echoed through the room. 

“Fuck.” you whimpered, squirming against him as pleasure overtook you. You moaned again as you came around his cock, feeling Jeonghan’s warmth erupt inside of you as your walls clenched around him fruitlessly. 

Your head spun, Jeonghan’s whimpers falling on deaf ears before grounding you with a soft kiss. 

“I love you.” Jeonghan whispered out of breath, blinking as he looked at you with big eyes. 

A shy smile spread over your face, your chest tightening at the words coming out of his mouth. 

“I love you.” you whispered back, feeling as if this moment weren’t real. 

Jeonghan’s lips curved up into the smallest, almost disbelieving smile before he hid his face in the crook of your neck. He gently let go of your hands to embrace you instead, peppering kisses on your shoulder. 

“You’re mine now—for real this time.” Jeonghan said, lifting his head to look at you again. A smirk tugged at his features, humming at the smiley, almost shy nod you gave him. 

“My girlfriend,” he giggled sweetly, giving your cheek a kiss. 

“My ducky.” he whispered, nuzzling his forehead against yours. 

“Hannie…” you laughed, but you couldn’t contain the smile playing on your lips. 

Somewhere through the quiet whispers and hours of laughter you realized you didn’t feel alone anymore. You didn’t feel unlovable—you felt wanted, like every stolen kiss and every teasing joke was stitching something whole inside of you, something you had once believed could never belong to you. 

[gyuhao5]

cherry f(l)avoured

Whatever Seungcheol has, Jeonghan has.

pairing jeonghan x f!reader x seungcheol word count 8K tags idol fic, dom!jeonghan, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, pwp, multiple smut scenes, reader is seungcheol’s gf, jeonghan is enlisted, svt is touring, tension, jealousy, irritation, accidental cuddling, implied wet dream, dry humping, making out, jeonghan being a menace, shaming, teasing, unprotected sex, breast play, degradation, spanking, cumming on ass, eventual threesome, cucking, blowjob, assisted deepthroating, cumming down throat, licking cum off skin, light choking, biting, spitting on pussy, creampie warnings smut, infidelity, minor angst, mentions of drinking, cursing

a/n god i think this is one of my favs i’ve ever written. pls let me know what u think and like/reblog ! → part two

Jeonghan is used to receiving princess treatment. Usually from all of his members, yet one in particular has always been more than adamant on spoiling him. Seungcheol and Jeonghan have always been close friends, each other’s halves, as the people around them would put it.

It wasn’t just gifts he’d regularly receive; expensive clothing and jewelry to match each other, or whatever item the younger one had been talking about wanting at the time— It was also the fact he’d barely have to lift a finger around Seungcheol.

Opened cans of beer were handed to him, shot glasses filled to the brim put on the table before him. His cold noodles pre-cut without a thought, and sometimes, Jeonghan merely had to open his mouth as Seungcheol spoon-fed him—naturally, nothing out of the ordinary for his dear friend.

Seungcheol had always believed in taking care of the people close to him, especially the ones who’d been by his side for nearly half his life, supporting him through his hardest times as a Pledis trainee and now as a leader.

Jeonghan found comfort in their fixed dynamic, which made the sudden appearance of you a significant disruption.

He’d never seen his friend so infatuated with anyone, a soft edge decorating his usual manly exterior. For once, Jeonghan suddenly wasn’t his number one anymore, and the realization irked him.

Sure, you were a genuinely sweet girl—he didn’t doubt his friend's judgement on that. You two seemed happily in love, but no matter how hard Jeonghan tried to tolerate you he felt a twinge of annoyance whenever you were around.

Evident to Jeonghan, you clearly felt the same about him. The air was tense between you, as though you were constantly vying for Seungcheol’s attention.

Maybe it was childish, and he did feel guilty knowing Seungcheol merely wanted the two most prominent people in his life to get along, but he really couldn’t be bothered to make an effort.

“Will you take care of y/n for me?” Seungcheol had asked him prior, their world tour making it so his members would be out of the country for weeks.

Jeonghan’s brows knitted together in confusion.

“Huh?” he blinked, leaning in a bit closer as if he hadn’t heard him properly.

“I mean, will you keep her company here and there while I’m gone? I know you get bored after work.” Seungcheol smiled hopefully, almost seeming unaware of what he was asking of him.

“What, she doesn’t have friends?” Jeonghan half-joked, his lip quirking up.

Seungcheol quietly sighed. “Hannie…” his hooded eyes read his friend doubtfully.

“Kidding, geez!” he laughed, but by his friend’s face he could tell he still expected a real answer.

“I will, I will—don’t worry Coups-ya.” he assured him, knowing he didn’t really have a choice anyway. Seungcheol was right, now that Jeonghan had to complete his service he only has his 9 to 5 opposed to his usual busy schedule as an idol.

Besides, how could he tell his best friend no? He could still remember his big hand on his shoulder, giving him a light squeeze as he smiled at him thankfully.

It was almost a week after the rest of Seventeen had left Korea—sans Jun, who was in China shooting his drama—and Jeonghan still hadn’t made an effort to seek you out. It was starting to gnaw at him a bit, not wanting to disappoint Seungcheol.

So, knowing you’d most likely be in Cheol’s apartment instead of your own, which already kind of irritated him, that’s where he goes.

He hums as he swiftly enters the password combination of the door lock, the door swinging open before he kicks off his shoes. There’s a white take-out bag swinging from his fingers as he walks to the living room, cocking up his eyebrow when he sees you peacefully asleep on the luxurious leather couch.

You wake up clutching your chest when Jeonghan loudly drops the bag with fried chicken on the table. “Jesus!” your eyes are wide with shock seeing the man suddenly standing in front of you.

“Just me,” Jeonghan says casually, plopping down right next to you after you slowly force yourself to sit up straight.

You clear your throat, watching as he opens the two boxes of food before tossing the plastic bag somewhere on the floor. You observe him with a critical eye, trying your best not to roll your eyes at his careless demeanor.

“Why did you come here?” you ask him, rubbing your tired eyes as he nibbles on a boneless piece of mayo chicken.

Jeonghan gets up from his seat again, sucking his finger clean as he walks to the kitchen. “Just dropping by,” he says over his shoulder.

You realize he’s wearing the same expensive hoodie Cheol owns—his dark grey instead of the familiar black one you’ve worn countless of times. He returns carrying a bottle of sprite and two glasses.

“I see,” you note, the quiet noises of the reality show breaking any silence.

“How did you know this is my favorite chicken place?” you look at Jeonghan while grabbing a big piece. You bite off half, a satisfied smile growing on your lips.

“I didn’t.” he shortly meets your eye as he fills your glass, looking away to fill up the second. “It’s my favorite restaurant.” he sighs. He twists the lid back on the bottle, condensation lingering on the thick plastic.

“Ah.” you nod slowly, realizing Seungcheol had introduced you to the place.

There’s a quietness as you’re eating, both of you pretending to be immensely engulfed in the tv show playing. Jeonghan occasionally makes a remark about the ridiculousness of the program, making you feel a bit ashamed for watching a trashy reality show.

Jeonghan huffs about being full once you’ve both nearly finished all the food, the black screen filled with closing credits his cue to leave. He’d made a comment about you having to clean the mess left behind—after all, he was the one who so kindly bought you a meal.

The sudden visit had you feeling a bit iffy, not sure why he’d taken the time to come over if you two obviously didn’t have any connection.

You really didn’t have a reason to not like him. All of your boyfriend’s friends were kind, all fun in their own way. It wasn’t like you knew them well, or for long, but their personalities easily blended with yours. They made it so easy to get along.

Yoon Jeonghan, however, is like a brick wall, one you can’t seem to move or get past. Everything you say is met with a certain look in his big eyes, meeting yours in a way that says nothing yet everything all at once.

It’s like he doesn’t deem you good enough for Seungcheol. For them.

“I miss you…” you pout at the camera, looking at your handsome boyfriend on the screen. He smiles cutely, thick pecs bulging as he supports his head with his hand.

“Me too, pretty,” he sighs, mimicking your pout.

You can tell he’s tired from the way his eyes are glazed over, trying his best not to yawn every minute as he talks to you.

“What have you been up to? Anything fun going on?” he asks. You think for a second before ultimately shaking your head.

“Just work and stuff,” you smile.

Seungcheol chuckles. “I told you to go out! You know you can use my car,” he reminds you, his shiny keys still in place on the kitchen counter.

“I will, Cheol.” you giggle. “I’m just waiting for Nora to come to town this weekend,” you explain. He hums understandingly.

“I’m sad you couldn’t go with me,” he pouts again, making you laugh when he starts experimenting with a silly crying filter.

“I know…” you sigh, rolling over while clutching your phone. “Maybe I can come to one of your shows after all…” you start to think, having to ask your difficult boss for time off.

Seungcheol smiles. “Let me know, baby. I would be very happy to see you. Three more weeks is too long, hm?” he tsks, shaking his head. “Why don’t you invite Jeonghannie over if you’re bored?” Seungcheol then tries, subtly trying to figure out if he’s already been around.

You pause for a second before speaking. “He came over today.” you tell him, your tone telling him everything he needs to know.

“Hmn? Isn’t that good?” Seungcheol tries smiling, somewhat glad to hear his friend listened to his request.

You huff. “No…” you’re quick to say. “He hates me.” you chuckle.

“What?” he frowns, bringing the camera a bit closer to his face. His cheeks are slightly red, a mix of post-concert drinks and exhaustion. “Of course he doesn’t hate you, baby.”

“Yeah he does,” you roll your eyes.

Seungcheol chews on his lip, thinking for a second. “I’ll talk to him, okay? He’s probably just in a mood,” he chuckles, defending his friend.

“He’s always in a mood…” you murmur under your breath, ignoring the next look Seungcheol’s giving you.

“Nevermind. You’re probably right,” you force a smile, making him hum. “Go sleep, okay? I’ll text you tomorrow.” you chuckle at his sleepy face, making him smile knowingly.

“Okay, baby. Talk to you soon,” he kisses the camera, making your stomach feel fuzzy and warm. “Goodluck tomorrow, handsome boy. Sleep tight.” you wave at him, making the same kissy face before you end the call.

There’s a blank look on your face as you approach Seungcheol’s apartment, groggily entering the code before entering the big Hangang view home.

At least there was one good thing about today: not having to go back to your own shitty excuse of an apartment. Your commute home was nearly over an hour, and after the day you had, you were in no mood to stand in an overly packed metro for that long. You usually stayed at Seungcheol’s anyway, happy you got to see him so frequently while also being closer to work.

“You’re home late.” the voice startles you, memories of the day before rushing back to you.

Jeonghan’s made himself comfortable on the floor, his hand reaching in a bag of chips as some youtube video plays on the tv in front of him. There’s cans of beer surrounding him, with a thin blanket draped over his lap.

“Great. You live here now?” you murmur under your breath, hanging up your jacket.

“Do you live here?” he bites back, attentively watching you put away your work bag.

You choose to ignore him, sighing before letting yourself fall on the couch. You hug a pillow to your chest, closing your eyes for a second.

Jeonghan watches you, almost sighing while remembering Seungcheol telling him off on the phone earlier today after your video call with him.

“Rough day?” he then asks, turning around to face you. You nod wordlessly, nuzzling your face deeper in the soft fabric.

Jeonghan inhales a deep breath as he thinks for a second, unlocking his phone to open a delivery app. “Let’s order something. What are you in the mood for?” he asks, patiently waiting for you to respond.

You open an eye to look at him, surprised by his sudden change.

“‘M not that hungry, Jeonghan.” you say quietly, clearing your throat before sitting up straight. “But thank you,” you offer him a small smile.

“Ayy, come on. You have to eat something,” he presses, throwing his phone in your lap. “I’m going to change into something more comfortable,” Jeonghan pushes himself up with a groan. “And when I’m back you better have placed an order.” he points his finger at you playfully, waltzing away to plunder Seungcheol’s clothing.

You chuckle, shaking your head before scrolling through the long list of restaurants.

Jeonghan seems rather invested in the reality show he was shit-talking only the day before, frowning at the tv as he sits next to you with his legs crossed on the table. An empty pizza box is discarded to the side, another bag of chips open between your bodies.

“Why would she sleep with Diego if she already had a thing with Antonio?” Jeonghan scoffs, eyes glued to the screen.

You hum, surprised you’re agreeing on something for once. “Right? Antonio is solid. He’s perfect.”

“Exactly. He treats her so well,” Jeonghan cocks his head to the side, tsking at what he’s seeing. There’s a pause before he speaks again. “But… I kinda get it,” your eyes meet his in curiosity. “Diego’s tempting, knows right how to lure her in with his pretty words.” he grins.

“I guess that’s the point,” Jeonghan adds, sighing as he grabs a handful of chips.

“What is?” you frown.

Jeonghan looks at you again, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Sometimes people want what they can’t have. Even if they’ve already got everything they need.”

“Sounds reckless.” you sigh, stealing a chip from his palm as you take in his words.

He shrugs. “Yeah, well… people are.”

The two of you stay up watching the next three episodes until ‘Next episode on Wednesday’ pops up on the screen. “Pfft.” Jeonghan huffs, left in disbelief at some plot twist as you navigate back to the main screen.

“Wednesday’s tomorrow.” you remind him casually, chuckling when he gasps next to you.

You scroll through the large selection of movies, Jeonghan proclaiming his disinterest until you stumble on some early 2010’s romcom. You flick the remote to the side to get comfortable on the couch, instantly feeling comfy engulfed by the thick blanket.

Weirdly enough, the day didn’t turn out to be that bad with Jeonghan around. You almost had… fun. It felt like something had shifted, the usual heavy energy replaced by an easier, comfortable atmosphere. Maybe you were finally starting to get along with Jeonghan now that Seungcheol wasn’t between you.

Movies weren’t usually your thing, evident by the way your eyes instantly start to feel heavier. You catch yourself slowly drifting off, trying to force your eyes open again to keep you up.

Jeonghan’s too engulfed in the movie too notice, and it isn’t until half an hour later he spots your sleeping figure. He takes a quick picture of you, your head at an awkward angle that could only be uncomfortable. He silently laughs as he sends the picture to Seungcheol, tossing the bag of chips on the table and accidentally waking you up in the process.

“Hm?” you frown in confusion, Jeonghan shushing you as he goes to sit directly next to you. “Here,” he whispers, offering his shoulder to sleep on. You rub your face in an attempt to stay awake again, making him roll his eyes as you try to watch the movie you’d already missed over half of.

You barely last a minute before Jeonghan gradually feels the weight of your head pressing against his shoulder, your breathing getting deeper.

“Stubborn girl.” he mutters before turning his attention back to the movie, suppressing a yawn himself.

It doesn’t take long for Jeonghan to follow into your footsteps. He dozes off next to you as the movie keeps playing, and eventually the screen automatically goes black.

A groan slips past your lips. Outside it’s still pitch black, your tired eyes blinking in confusion at where you are. There’s a weight against your body, and you groggily remove yourself from under Jeonghan’s body as inaudible mumbling comes out of him.

He frowns almost angrily being disrupted in his sleep, pushing a hand through his dark locs as he tries to make sense of the situation.

“You woke me up.” he whines, his voice a couple octaves lower. You force yourself up, stretching to relieve your sore muscles. “My back is killing me.” you sigh, rubbing your lower back. Jeonghan sighs in annoyance, covering himself with the tousled blankets. “Whatever. Let’s just go to sleep again,” he mumbles, meeting your eye expectantly.

“No. I want to sleep in bed.” you tell him, his frown deepening before he rolls his eyes and goes to lay down. “Fine. Don’t wanna hear your snoring anyway.” he says, putting two pillows under his head.

“I wasn’t snoring.” you defend yourself as you bend over him, feeling around for your phone under the blanket. “Woah, touchy subject?” he chuckles, swatting away your hand at his side before nodding at the table.

You grab your phone, mumbling a quick ‘good night’ as you stalk towards the bedroom, eager to get under the much warmer comforter. Suddenly you halt, turning around to see Jeonghan bundled up under the thin blanket. It was winter, and you were sure he wouldn’t be able to get a decent night’s sleep like this.

“Jeonghan?” you call him.

“Hm?” he simply hums, not bothering to move from his spot.

“You can…you can just-“ you sigh, interrupting yourself. “Sleep next to me? It’s too cold here.” you finally say, scratching your neck awkwardly.

Jeonghan turns to you, pushing himself up to be able to look at you. He goes to make a snarky comment, but he keeps himself from doing so after seeing the earnest look on your face.

“Yeah, no—okay,” he says casually, following you to the bedroom.

You don’t say much as you both get under the covers, a safe distance between you lying in Seungcheol’s big bed.

“Try to keep your hands to yourself,” Jeonghan sighs, almost chuckling when you only reply with a hum, too tired to respond to another one of his jokes.

Naturally, Jeonghan faces you, his eyes suddenly taking in the expensive gold bracelet around your wrist. The design is intricate, a continuous trail of interlinked logos, each adorned with a tiny red diamond at its center.

He rolls his eyes realizing Seungcheol has the exact same one, as he’d nudged his friend into buying him a matching one after he’d seen his. The jewelry costs well in the ten thousands, a sour feeling in the pit of his stomach at the stupid couple bracelet.

Jeonghan turns his back to you in annoyance, trying to sleep with you easily dozing off again.

A foreign presence wakes Jeonghan with a low, involuntary groan, his hand somehow comfortably resting atop your waist. At some point during the night, you had ended up spooning, though the how was a mystery to him. Not that it mattered much when more… pressing matters demanded his attention—namely, the way your ass presses against his now hard crotch.

To make things even worse, soft, breathy whimpers escaped you as you unconsciously ground back against him, sending his pulse racing.

“God.” Jeonghan curses quietly, instinctively tightening his fingers into your plush skin. He doesn’t feel guilty shifting closer, sighing when he slowly starts grinding his impossibly hard cock against you. This was your fault after all.

He gulps at the friction, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as he keeps moving, biting his lip to keep himself from groaning. Your grip tightens on the comforter, your chest heaving as your panties stick to your wet core.

Eager to relieve himself, Jeonghan slightly picks up the pace, not too worried when your hazy eyes tiredly flutter open.

Before you have a chance to fully wake up he has you pressed flat on your back, rolling on top of your body to zealously rut against your clothed core. Your breath hitches before your lips are caught in a forceful kiss, drowning out any protests as he expertly swipes his tongue against your bottom lip.

Languid fingers find his shoulders, weakly grabbing him as you whimper against his mouth. You know what you’re doing is wrong, yet every touch lulls you further away from the edge of self-control.

Your cunt is pulsing deliciously, hips heedlessly bucking against him. There’s a desperation as you make out, a mess of spit and muffled gasps filling the otherwise quiet room.

“J-jeonghan-“ you whimper, finding enough strength to squeeze his shoulder fruitlessly, the length of his dick rubbing into you with purpose.

You help the hasty hand push down your pajama pants, fingers tugging at your ruined panties, ridding your sopping hole of the suffocating fabric as it clings to your thighs.

He’s hasty, teeth nipping at your bottom lip as you both choose to ignore the consequences of the situation you’d shamelessly gotten yourself into. Jeonghan hikes you up against his thighs, and the next thing you feel is his impossibly thick head pressing against your opening.

Your back arches as he easily slides in, the grip of your cunt inciting a deep groan from his throat. He bottoms out inside of you, wasting no time as he starts fucking you hard and fast, driven by an animalistic kind of lust.

Fingers tangle in his tousled strands, moaning loudly against his swollen lips as he rocks you deeper into the mattress. “God.” your eyes roll back, whimpering when he harshly starts sucking on your neck. “Don’t...” you beg him shamefully. Your hand tightens in his hair to forcefully pull him off, barely able to meet his gaze.

Jeonghan chuckles, tossing your arms above your hands to grip your wrists. “What? Don’t want your boyfriend to find out what you did?” he asks, wetting his lips before grinning cunningly. Your neck prickles at the mention of Seungcheol, breath shuddering when the man on top of you goes even faster.

“Just k-keep going.” you gasp, closing your eyes in pleasure. You can tell you’re not going to last much longer, your stomach burning as his cock reaches deep inside of you.

Jeonghan then suddenly tugs off the expensive bracelet on your wrist, your eyes quickly opening at the sudden intrusion. “I don’t think you really deserve this anymore,” he tsks, hauling it across the room without a care.

It crashes somewhere on the floor, discarded to the side and nearly forgotten again when Jeonghan quickly goes back to kissing you, once again shushing your futile protests with his skillful mouth as if nothing happened.

“Legs.” he mumbles against your lips, simply tapping your thigh. His tone is straightforward, and you choose to oblige. You both moan when you link your legs around his waist. His cock is deeply nestled inside of you as he shallowly fucks you, pelvis grinding into your sensitive clit.

“Fucking hell,” Jeonghan curses at the feeling of your sweet cunt. He yanks your shirt up to knead your tit. “I see why Cheollie likes you so much.” he almost smirks before his mouth encircles your nipple.

His tongue swirls around your pebbled nub, sucking and licking until he has you mewling under him. You squeeze his shoulder, back arching when his teeth drag over the plump skin. “Such pretty tits.” he sighs, giving your nipple a quick peck before suddenly pulling out of you.

He shushes you as he manhandles you on all fours, gripping your ass as he immediately sinks his length back inside of you again. Your toes curl as you tighten around him, gripping the mattress to ground yourself while a cry spills past your lips.

“C-cheol’s gonna kill you.” you then suddenly blurt out, cursing at a particular deep thrust. Jeonghan lets out a breathy laugh. “I wouldn’t be so sure, y/n.” he kneads your ass. “Whatever’s Cheol’s is mine anyway.” he smacks your ass as if to emphasize his point, groaning at the way you tighten around him upon hearing his words.

“Cum with me.” Jeonghan tells you, his lithe finger finding your wet clit. You bite your lip as he expertly plays with you, closing your eyes as he gets you closer and closer to the edge.

Your orgasm hits you hard, legs shaking as you cry out into the pillow. Jeonghan groans feeling your cunt pulsing around him, quickly pulling out to watch his cum make a mess of your ass.

He watches you ride out your high, stroking your twitching leg as you both catch your breath.

“Fuck.” Jeonghan curses, pushing a hand through his hair before getting up. “Wait here,” he tells you, putting on his boxers as you tiredly lie down. He comes back with a towel, carefully cleaning up the mess he’s left you before fully taking off the panties bunched above your knees.

“You should probably go to the bathroom,” Jeonghan says, opening Seungcheol’s closet to find you some clean underwear.

“I will in a minute.” you tell him, hugging the pillow as he easily slides on your panties for you. Jeonghan hums. “Then I’ll go take a shower.” he briefly pats your butt, tucking you in before disappearing into the bathroom.

You spot your bracelet lying on the floor, the post-orgasmic haze fading fast as you take in what you’d just done. Your thoughts spiral, the sound of the showerhead a cruel reminder of the moment you just shared with your boyfriend’s best friend.

“Do I keep having to tell you to watch that big mouth of yours?” you hiss at Jeonghan, elbowing him after you’re finally seated on the Japan airlines plane.

Jeonghan only laughs as if it’s all a big joke to him, obviously not worried about your constant fear of the idol being discovered traveling together with some girl.

“Probably.” he grins under his mask, cunningly eyeing you in amusement.

Anyone could tell you were nervous— not just because of the whole traveling situation, but there was obviously a much bigger issue taking up space in your head. You were getting closer and closer to seeing Seungcheol again. Your mind was running overtime.

Seungcheol had kindly offered to book you a plane ticket after you’d told him you got the green light to leave work early, excited you were able to spend some time together.

Naturally, Jeonghan tagged along—the short two-hour flight a perfect chance to reunite with his members before they were headed off to Singapore again.

It had only been two days since what had happened, and you hadn’t seen Jeonghan up until meeting him at the airport some hours prior.

“I know all the hot spots in Osaka. I can be your translator, you know—since Cheollie is pretty shit at Japanese.” Jeonghan goes on after take off, his body fully turned to you. You were happy there were only two seats next to each other in business class, offering some privacy as he kept talking to you.

“Can’t you just listen to music and leave me alone?” you huff, crossing your arms as you look out the airplane window. You kept thinking about Seungcheol, about what he’d do if he found out. You knew you had to tell him eventually, and the mere thought left you riddled with anxiety.

“You’re awfully tense today.” Jeonghan chuckles. You sigh in defeat when he leans in even more, lowering his mask while trying not to grin. “I can think of a few ways to help you with that,” he starts, his minty breath hitting your ear as you feel his hand on your thigh.

You only side eye him.

“Come meet me in the bathroom?” he whispers, his fingers furtively brushing the inside of your leg.

Your head quickly turns to him, taking in the amused look on his face. “Are you crazy?” you hiss, pushing his hand away. Jeonghan quietly laughs, shrugging before grabbing his phone. “Forget it,” he sings, idly clicking his tongue whilst busying himself on his screen.

You sigh quietly, annoyed by the fact he’s out here joking while you’re contemplating the future of your relationship.

You owed it to Seungcheol to tell him what had happened, and you finally settle on telling him as soon as possible—after the tour, for obvious reasons.

“Watch, he’s gonna be standing there.” Jeonghan murmurs to you right as the elevator door slides open. Just as predicted you’re met by a smiling Seungcheol, thick arms warmly engulfing you while lovingly pecking your cheek.

“Hi there baby.” he whispers while smoothing his hand over your head. You can’t stop smiling, watching him happily greet his friend before grabbing both your luggages.

“How was the show today?” Jeonghan asks as you pass the big collection of suitcases lined up in the hallway. The whole floor consisted of only Seventeen and their staff, giving them as much privacy as possible.

“I’m so tired.” Seungcheol laughs as he unlocks his door, putting down all your stuff before dramatically letting himself fall down on the bed. You chuckle when he pouts while making grabby hands at you, pulling you on top of him when you get close enough.

“Did you two have fun?” Cheol asks, tightening his arms around you.

The sudden question makes you a bit tense, and you’re painfully aware of Jeonghan taking a seat on the bed right next to you and Seungcheol.

“Oh, of course. We had a lot of fun, right y/n?” Jeonghan smiles at you knowingly, amused at the situation.

“Yeah… Jeonghan’s not too bad.” you only say, nuzzling your head against his firm chest to avoid looking at your poor unsuspecting boyfriend.

Seungcheol kisses your head, stroking your back while a sudden knock on the door has him looking up with a frown.

“Jeonghannie hyung?!” Mingyu calls from the other side.

“Ah, Kim Mingyu!” Jeonghan almost shouts, pushing himself up to open the door for his younger member.

You give Seungcheol a quick kiss before sitting up, your boyfriend mimicking you and watching the tall boy hugging Jeonghan as he dramatically wails about missing him in a high pitched crying voice.

Jeonghan giggles. “I know, I know,” he sighs while patting his back.

Mingyu flashes you a toothy smile once he’s done greeting Jeonghan. “y/nnie, you made it!”

“I know…” you pout, patting Cheol’s knee. “Can’t wait to see you guys perform tomorrow,” you smile, making the boy next to you gleam boyishly.

Mingyu chuckles. “This hyung will definitely try to show off with you there.” he teases Seungcheol, making the older one roll his eyes playfully. “So what…” he sulks, hugging your arm before putting his head on your shoulder.

“Anyway. You’re all hungry, right? Hoshi hyung, Dino, and I were talking about having sashimi and beer on the way back from the concert,” Mingyu looks around expectantly.

“Good idea, I’m starving.” Jeonghan rubs his belly.

Seungcheol looks at you. “I think we’ll pass.” he says, sitting up straight.

“Noo…” Mingyu pouts, giving Jeonghan a look as if to ask for backup.

Jeonghan chuckles. “Let’s give the lovebirds some time to themselves, Mingyu.” he pats his friend’s shoulder.

“Alright...” Mingyu sighs, pouting before waving at you with a smile. “See you tomorrow, y/n!” he then says, everyone saying their goodbyes before the two leave.

“Finally.” Cheol grins, making you laugh when he pins you to the bed to kiss you. “I missed you, baby.” he says before kissing you again, pecking you all over your face. You giggle, putting your arms around his neck. “Me too, Cheollie,” you sigh, stroking his thick hair.

“Cuddle with me…” Seungcheol whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. You smile. “Let me take a shower and we can cuddle the whole night.” you tell him, making him pout. “Alright… only if you hurry,” he chuckles.

“Promise.” you give him a kiss before getting up, zipping open your suitcase for some fresh clothes.

“You’re not hungry? I can order room service and It’ll be here once you’re done,” Cheol watches you grab your things, big eyes following you attentively.

“I’m not hungry, baby. Thank you.” you wink at him before disappearing into the bathroom, making him smile before he makes himself comfortable waiting for you to get back.

Seungcheol might’ve been more tired than you thought—you find him fast asleep once you walk back into the room, his phone barely clutched in his hand.

He mumbles when the mattress dips next to him, instinctively finding your warmth and putting his arm around you to keep you close. You kiss his cheek, taking in his handsome face with an odd feeling brewing in the pit of your stomach before you allow yourself to finally drift off.

—It’s the next morning. Breathy, deep groans still echo in your mind, the scene from before freshly burned into your vision after the sudden intrusion—the threat from behind the door not-too-kindly warning your boyfriend he’d be late to today’s practice if he didn’t leave.

God, how you’d missed Seungcheol’s presence. You had almost forgotten how easily he triggered this primal urge inside of you, the taste and feel of his veiny cock on your tongue a necessity most mornings. You riled each other up easily—equally as engrossed, willing to take and keep taking until ultimately one ends up winning your little game.

Needless to say the interruption had left you quite worked up.

Practice could go on for hours if you’re unlucky, cutting your afternoon together short before they had to perform again. You don’t know how much longer Seungcheol would be, and every minute felt like too long at this point.

You’d boxed up the remains of your breakfast, taken a bath until the water got too cold for you to bear, cleaned up the discarded items lying around, and you were still waiting.

Osaka seemed like a fun city with loads of places to explore, but you’d missed your boyfriend and the only thing you wanted was to be with him as soon as possible (and get your back blown out, obviously).

The sound of the heavy door closing catches your attention, eyebrows twitching when Jeonghan walks in. Now how did he get a keycard?

Jeonghan takes in your indifferent face. “I’m good, thank you for asking.” he chuckles, shrugging off his coat before crawling on the bed next to you. He kicks off his shoes, feet dangling from the side as he yawns while unlocking his phone.

“Did you go somewhere?” you sigh, fingers toying with the bracelet the man next to you had thrown around only days before.

Jeonghan hums. “Are you upset I didn’t ask you along?” he asks in a kindergarten teacher’s voice, making you roll your eyes.

“No.” you say flatly. “I didn’t even think of you today.”

“Ouch.” Jeonghan chuckles, eyes darting to you with a knowing glint. “Did Seungcheollie do something?” he asks, suddenly invested in where the conversation is headed. You give him a pointed look before exhaling a long sigh.

“No, just…” you pause. “It’s nothing.” you roll your eyes again.

He keeps looking at you—almost observing, and for some reason you can’t seem to read his motives. You never know what’s gonna come out of his mouth, and frankly it’s making you a bit nervous.

“I like it when you’re angry.” Jeonghan bites his lip, fully expecting you to scold him again.

You’re hesitant instead. “Not today, please.” you breathe, avoiding fully looking at him. You’re not sure what will happen if you do.

Jeonghan cocks up his eyebrows curiously, a silent challenge woven in his gaze as he shifts on his side to close the distance between you.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, frustrated at how horny you still are. He’s not making this any easier for you, especially with those long eyelashes blinking at you, as if you can’t tell this is one of his games.

“Practice is dragging out.” Jeonghan tells you as if he’s simply informing you, yet a smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

“Sit down.” you almost whisper, but Jeonghan hears you loud and clear, fully grinning as he does just that.

You kneel on the floor before him. “Don’t fucking smile.” you warn him as you hastily unbutton his jeans. You eagerly push down both his pants and boxers, cock resting in his lap as you start to press open mouthed kisses all over his length.

Jeonghan exhales a breath, closing his eyes when you grab his cock to lick the top. You collect your spit, letting it messily dribble down before spreading it all over him, sucking on the top as you pump him until he’s fully hard.

“Fuck.” he exhales, hand finding your hair. His eyes shoot open when you suddenly take him down your throat, lewd sucking sounds filling the room as you try to take as much of him as you can. “Jesus, you’re crazy.” Jeonghan groans, tightening his grip on your hair.

He relishes in the way your throat constricts around him, gagging as you try to take even more. Your eyes water, vision glazed over when you meet his sultry gaze again. Jeonghan lazily grins at you. “You’re really shameless, huh?” he says, urging you to keep going with his hand.

You go faster, switching between sucking on his tip and licking around the head before taking the whole length down your throat again. You grip his legs, and Jeonghan whines when you swallow around him.

“Don’t do that if you don’t want me to cum already.” he hisses, fingers tightening in your hair. You ignore him, so cockhungry the only thing you want is to swallow his cum. You can already taste the salty flavor on your tongue, humming as you keep bobbing your head.

You almost don’t hear the door opening, too engrossed in sucking Jeonghan’s cock to notice.

“Oh Coups-ya, you’re back.” Jeonghan grins at his friend, your eyes widening while the secure hand in your hair keeps you pressed on his cock. The hairs of his happy trail tickle your nose, the skin pressing directly into his pelvis as a panicked, muffled sound escapes you.

“You’re really doing this without me?” Seungcheol sighs in annoyance. The question catches you off guard, Jeonghan chuckling at his friend. He looks down at you choking on his cock, teary eyed as you squeeze his thigh fruitlessly as a silent plea for him to ease up.

Jeonghan finally pulls you off him, a string of saliva connecting you as the two men look at you. You catch your breath, guilt written on your face when your gaze meets your boyfriend’s.

Seungcheol chuckles, leaning in to wipe your glossy lips with his thumb before grabbing your chin. “Are you not gonna finish Hannie off?” he asks, giving his friend a quick look. You gulp, confused by what’s happening.

You don’t say anything for a moment as you take it all in, realizing maybe it wasn’t a coincidence Jeonghan had access to the hotel room—after all, whatever’s Seungcheol’s is Jeonghan’s.

“Come on. Don’t be rude, baby.” Cheol says, guiding your face back to his friend’s crotch. Jeonghan leans back on his hand, the other caressing your cheek while you hesitantly grab his wet cock again.

“What’s wrong y/nnie? You were so eager right before Cheollie came.” Jeonghan smiles, his hand moving to your nape to urge you on his length again. Your face heats up, shamelessly avoiding their eyes as your lips encircle his head.

“There you go,” Cheol praises you, his big eyes watching you suck Jeonghan’s cock. Jeonghan wets his lips, humming at you slowly sucking him off.

“Faster.” Jeonghan tsks after only a few seconds, patting your head. “Just like before.” he adds, grinning when you roll your eyes at him.

“She always this bratty?” Jeonghan asks Seungcheol, his eyes zoned in on the sight of your lips stretched around his length.

You shriek when you’re suddenly forced to take all of him, squeezing your eyes shut as a stern hand moves your head up and down. “You just have to be strict when that happens.” your boyfriend says, his presence looming above you.

Jeonghan wipes at a stray tear in the corner of your eye, softly groaning as his friend makes you go even faster. “God…” he breathes, throwing his head back. The sounds you make are dirty, a mix of spit and muffled whimpers of resistance turning both boys on even more.

You drag your tongue against his protruding vein, sucking harder to trigger his orgasm. “Fuck… g-gonna cum.” Jeonghan moans, looking at you through his long eyelashes. He moans even harder when Seungcheol makes you take every inch, keeping you there like Jeonghan had before.

“Suck.” Cheol’s deep voice eggs you on, and you try your best before ultimately gagging, struggling to take all of him.

Jeonghan groans, gripping the sheets as his cum shoots down your throat. Seungcheol keeps you there for another second before finally pulling you off his cock, fingers tangled in your hair to watch you swallow down his friend’s cum.

You cough up some droplets on Jeonghan’s thigh, still catching your breath as Cheol wordlessly makes you lap up the mess you’ve made off Jeonghan’s skin with your tongue.

“Good girl.” your boyfriend smiles proudly, fixing the messy strands of your hair after pulling you up. His arm encircles your waist, tugging you closer until your front presses against his. “My turn.” he whispers in your ear, his plump lips tugging up in a subtle grin.

You can feel his hardness pressing into your stomach, the rough hand palming your ass possessively.

“You-you’re not mad?” you stutter, sighing when he nips at your earlobe. “Mad?” he smiles. The pads of his fingers stroke the skin under your shirt gently, lingering right above your sweatpants.

Seungcheol chuckles at you, giving you a quick peck before spinning you around to press his front to your back now.

“Why would I be, baby? Didn’t Jeonghannie take good care of you while I was away?” he whispers in your ear, toying with the strings of your sweatpants. You make the mistake of meeting Jeonghan’s heavy gaze, the boy clothed again and sitting on the foot of the bed in front of you with a big grin plastered on his face. He cocks up his eyebrow at you, lazily leaning back supporting his weight with his palms.

Hesitantly, you nod, looking back at Seungcheol who hums almost mockingly. His fingers glide into your panties, finding your wetness.

“So why aren’t you thanking him?” he says lowly, his thumb pressing into your clit. You exhale a breath, his deep voice sending a wave of heat through your stomach.

Your face feels hot, embarrassed as you look at Jeonghan. “Thank you, Jeonghan.” you say shyly, his big eyes watching what's happening in front of him brazenly.

Jeonghan hums, wetting his lips as he relishes in your apprehension.

Your boyfriend teases your entrance, fingers dipping against your hole as he slowly circles your clit. “Good girl.” he praises you, pecking your cheek. His lips drag down your jaw, two of his fingers pressing against your slit as if he’s going to enter, only to stop and tease your entrance again.

“Cheol…” you breathe, grabbing his wrist. Seungcheol chuckles, swiftly removing his hand from your pants. Before you can complain again he manhandles you down on the bed, giving Jeonghan a signal his friend immediately understands.

Jeonghan sits down against the headboard, putting an arm around you when Seungcheol has you lay against his friend’s chest. Jeonghan removes your shirt while your boyfriend busies himself taking off your sweatpants and panties, leaving you bare for them to feast off what they’re seeing.

“You ready, sweetheart?” Jeonghan toys with your nipples, rolling the hardening buds between his fingers. “I think this pussy’s forgotten all about Cheollie’s cock after obsessing over mine...” Jeonghan chuckles, earning a glare from his friend while you just gasp at the way he’s playing with your tits.

“See? She’s not even denying it.” he continues, giving your cheek a kiss while groping the swell of your chest.

Seungcheol ignores him, taking off his shirt to reveal his toned body. You unapologetically gawk at his meaty arms, the muscles flexing as he takes off his jeans. You squirm against Jeonghan’s body a little, getting impatient at the way Seungcheol is making such a show of taking off his clothes while looking down at you.

He finally takes off his boxers, his hard cock slapping against his stomach lewdly. He doesn’t waste much time, tossing your legs open to settle between them, spitting on your cunt before rubbing the bulbous tip all over your wetness. Seungcheol hums, pumping his length a few times before pressing the head against your messy entrance.

A whimper leaves your sore throat when he starts pushing inside, slowly, to make you feel every very inch. He’s stretching you, the painful yet delicious burn making you gasp and squirm again. Jeonghan grabs your throat, keeping you still as Cheol bottoms out. You moan weakly, feeling him nuzzled in the deepest parts of you.

“Missed this tight pussy.” Cheol sighs, leaning in to kiss you. He licks a stripe on your bottom lip, nibbling on the skin before licking into your mouth messily. You groan in each other’s mouths when he starts moving, your hands finding his thick head of hair.

Jeonghan kisses your neck, licking and sucking on the skin as he applies pressure on your throat. His teeth graze the skin, your breathy moans muffled by Seungcheol when he bites you.

“One cock isn’t enough for you, huh?” Cheol says, going faster again. He gives you another chase kiss before licking a broad stripe on your nipple, sucking your tit in his mouth and making you moan loudly.

Jeonghan uses his free hand to grip one of your thighs, opening you further for Seungcheol. “Fuck...” you sigh, pressing your head back against Jeonghan’s chest.

“Such a good slut…” Jeonghan hums, surprising you by suddenly tightening his grip on your throat painfully tight. “Come on, say you like Hannie’s cock best and I’ll let you breathe again.” he grins in amusement.

“Jeonghan.” Seungcheol warns his friend, giving him a pointed look.

Jeonghan chuckles, loosening his grip again. “Alright, alright, geez.” he smiles cruelly as you catch your breath, your chest heaving. He removes his hand all together, fingers finding your wet clit instead. You buck your hips in pleasure, moaning fruitlessly as the two play with your body.

“Shit, keep doing that Hannie, she gets so fucking tight when you play with her clit.” Cheol groans, fucking you even harder to chase his release. The sound of skin slapping fills the room, your body squirming and moving as pleasure overtakes you.

Cheol slaps your thigh roughly, making you gasp at the sting. “Be good.” he reminds you. Jeonghan’s arm encircles your waist to keep you still, his other hand pinching your clit to incite another loud cry from you.

“Are you gonna cum? Gonna—shit. Gonna make a mess of this pretty pussy.” Seungcheol moans. He hastily puts your legs over his shoulder, leaning in until his chest presses against yours, almost bending you as he rests his forehead against yours.

“Go on, baby. Cum on my cock.” he breathes, groaning at the way you’re tightening around him. Your thighs burn at the angle you’re being pressed, shaking as you moan at the pleasure you’re receiving. Jeonghan presses tentative kisses in your neck, fingers rubbing you faster and faster until your release washes over you.

It hits you hard, tears in your eyes as your body shakes, whimpering at the feeling of Seungcheol cumming inside of you with a guttural moan, warmth flooding your walls as he keeps thrusting until he’s filled you completely. “Fuck.” Seungcheol sighs, slowing down until he stills inside of you, giving a few more shallow thrusts to stir the mess of cum inside of you.

“Our good girl…” Jeonghan strokes your sides, kissing your temple.

Seungcheol slowly helps you put down your legs, massaging your sore thighs for a moment before slowly pulling out of you, smiling at your soft whimper.

“You must be tired, huh baby?” Cheol gives the inside of your knee a kiss, watching you nod soundlessly. They both chuckle, and Jeonghan slowly helps you sit up again.

Seungcheol gives you a long kiss, stroking your cheek sweetly before getting up. “Do you want Hannie and me to help you shower, baby?” he asks. You nod again. “Yes, please.” you answer.

Jeonghan hums. “Let’s get you showered then, y/nnie.” Jeonghan tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before pushing himself up, standing next to your boyfriend with his arms crossed.

You look at them standing in front of you, and something tells you this is going to be your new normal. The mere thought has you excited for what’s to come.

READ PART TWO

[baekhyunsbestie]

⟢ : AFTERS ★ .ᐟ

req by this qt anonie <3 hehe

“af·tuhrz” (n): 1. the unofficial, post-party gathering—usually at a random house/hotel after a bigger party and/or club, with tooooo much alcohol, moody lighting, and even more questionable decisions. 2. where you accidentally end up fucking baekhyun after his concert.

content: 18+/mdni. ~9.6k+ words. reverie!baekhyun x f!reader. strangers to one-nighters. fluff. smut. aftercare. praise. dry humping. fingering + oral (fem receiving), drunk p in v sex, hotel room hookup, semi-public foreplay, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, mild obsession vibes, overstim, raw juseyo, you’re both a lil unhinged and match each other's freaks lmaoooo

your throat is hoarse from screaming lyrics you didn’t realize you still knew by heart. your skin’s still buzzing, glitter catching on the collar of your top, sweat drying beneath your skirt.

baekhyun’s concert wasn’t just a show—it was an experience. a sensory overload. the kind that settles into your skin and stays there. the way he moved—fluid and precise, every step pulled straight from muscle memory and instinct—was hypnotic. the way he sang, breathless yet effortless. his visuals? unreal. almost unfair. 

and the way he engaged with the crowd? grinning, teasing, soaking up the screams like sunlight—yeah, that wasn’t just performance. that was a man doing exactly what he was born to do. an idol in every sense. and it was obvious—he loves it. he lives for it.

and you—loud, radiant, maybe a little too invested—could’ve sworn he looked right at you during woo. his gaze was sweeping, fluid, made to tease, but just for a second… it paused. 

row ten.

pink sequined skirt.

you froze mid-sway, breath caught somewhere between your ribs and your throat, and you didn’t dare blink.

you told yourself it was wishful thinking. that you were just one face in a sea of thousands. but now, stepping out into the night air—still in that same outfit, skin buzzing like it’s holding onto his falsetto—you’re drunk on something more than just concert adrenaline.

your body still vibrates with the bass, your voice is hoarse from shouting lyrics like they were gospel, and your cheeks ache from smiling too hard for too long.

“oh my godddd, meeks, that was fuckin’ insane,” you pant, nearly breathless, practically levitating as you leave the venue.

your best friend, mika, laughs beside you—influencer, 125k+ on the gram, energy like a triple shot of tequila, dressed like the night owes her something. 

“oh, baby,” she purrs, thumb tapping her phone like she’s conjuring magic, “the night’s just getting started.”

her screen flares to life with a flood of unread dms—club logos, kiss emojis, a string of heart-eyes from guys whose names you don’t recognize but probably should. “should we go clubbing?” she offers, eyes glinting. “wanna hit up gravity?”

you hesitate. gravity always spirals. last time, you ended up in a stranger’s penthouse afterwards with three underground rappers and a girl who swore she was hyunjin from le sserafim’s third cousin twice removed.

but fomo’s coded into your dna, and baekhyun’s voice is still ricocheting through your bones. you told yourself you’d say yes to everything tonight. so you do.

you grin, breath catching with the kind of thrill that tastes like trouble.

“fuck it,” you say, two taps away from ordering the uber. “let’s go.”

the club is a blur of lights and bass. you barely make it past the velvet rope before you’re swept inside by the gravity of mika’s orbit.

she knows everyone. the guy at the door daps her up like they grew up together. the bartender winks and sends over a tray of drinks before you even reach the bar. the DJ in the booth flashes her a grin mid-set and changes the track to her favorite remix.

you don’t wait in lines and you never check prices. you exist outside of time when you’re out with her—just a blur of laughter, glitter, and beat drops that rattle your ribcage.

you dance like your heels don’t hurt.

like you didn’t just scream your lungs out at a concert two hours ago.

your skirt swings with every sway of your hips, sequins catching the light like tiny spotlights made just for you.

you tilt your head back, eyes fluttering shut, drunk on tequila and attention, your friends orbiting you like a constellation of bad choices and even better memories.

you feel pretty—head tilted back, hips swaying, alcohol warming your blood. a random guy tries to flirt and your friend yanks you away with a grin.

“nope,” she says. “we’re keepin’ it mysterious tonight.”

you’re drunk and dizzyo a quarter ‘til midnight when you check your phone and realize you should probably head home.

but then she leans in close and whispers, “wanna hit an afters at the ritz?”

she doesn’t say whose. she never does.

but that’s the thrill of it. the not-knowing. the possibility that tonight hasn’t even peaked yet.

you glance down at your drink—half-melted ice, lipgloss on the rim—and swallow what’s left. you’re sticky with sweat, eyes glassy, lips tingling from salt and lime. 

and yeah, maybe you should go home. but you’re not in the mood to be responsible especially when the night still feels electric.

so you grin, swipe your phone off the table, and say the words you always do when mika’s got that look in her eyes.

the suite looks like it was pulled straight from a luxury travel vlog—sleek, sprawling, and softly lit in golds and shadows.

there’s music playing low—something bassy and expensive, vibrating through marble countertops and plush velvet cushions. a tray of half-finished cocktails glows under the dim, amber light, and bodies are draped across designer furniture like they were born there. heels kicked off. dress shirts half-buttoned. laughter echoing from corners you’re not quite invited into.

you’re crouched near the minibar, pretending to fix the strap of your heel, feigning fascination with the towering bouquet of flowers that probably cost more than your rent, when you spot them—faces you vaguely recognize. not close enough to be certain, but… yeah. you’ve seen them before. maybe at the club earlier tonight. the way they move—relaxed, self-assured, like people who know they’re being watched.

you don’t overthink it. just assume that’s how mika got wind of this afterparty in the first place.

and then—something shifts.

a hum in the atmosphere. like the room just hit pause.

you glance up.

and there he is.

baekhyun.

but not in silk. not in silk or leather or anything made to kill. no stage persona. no spotlight.

just… soft.

he’s near the bar, dressed in an oversized grey hoodie with faded red letters stretched across the front. the collar hangs loose, offering a peek of a plain white tee underneath. a slouchy beanie hugs his head, and strands of bleached blonde hair curl out in fluffy wisps—just messy enough to look real. freshly washed face. no makeup. no filter.

he looks like he just stepped out of a hot shower. glowing, flushed, skin catching the warm golden light like it’s gilding him from within.

he doesn’t see you. not yet. he’s nursing a drink, sleeves pushed to his elbows, shoulders relaxed in that way people get when they’ve finally made it to the other side of a long night.

and then—click.

your eyes flick across the room again. those familiar faces lounging on velvet sectionals, sipping cocktails and laughing like they’ve done this a hundred times before—now you get it.

you hadn’t realized it earlier. hadn’t connected the dots.

but now, with baekhyun standing there—unguarded, undeniably real—it all snaps into place.

this is his afterparty.

those are his people.

you tear your gaze away, forcing your attention to the condensation sliding down a bottle of sparkling water like it suddenly holds the answers to all of life’s questions. anything to keep from staring at the man who just quietly turned your whole night inside out.

you don’t expect him to move—to notice you. definitely not to approach. but he does, of fucking course he does, like the universe just couldn’t resist handing you this plot twist wrapped in cozy grey cotton and freshly washed hair.

“you always this mesmerized by sparkling water?” his voice drifts in from beside you—low, easy, just amused enough to make your pulse trip.

you blink, caught in the act. the bottle suddenly feels like a spotlight. heat crawls up the back of your neck.

“i wasn’t staring,” you blurt, too quick, too defensive—and not at all what he asked.

baekhyun hums, a quiet chuckle under his breath. “didn’t say you were.”

you glance at him—and instantly regret it. he’s even more beautiful up close. skin dewy and flushed from the shower, hoodie soft around his frame, eyes sharp and curious beneath the shadow of his beanie. he smells like detergent and something warmer—clean skin and cologne clinging faintly to the cotton of his hoodie.

“what are you doing at this party, anyway?” you ask, shooting for nonchalant but landing somewhere breathless. “shouldn’t you be off… i don’t know, being famous somewhere?”

he grins—wide and unapologetic. “my team booked out the whole floor,” he says, like it’s the most mundane thing in the world. “so technically, i am where i’m supposed to be.”

you let out a quiet snort. “that’s a little presumptuous, don’t you think?”

he studies you—really studies you—like he’s trying to file you into a box but hasn’t quite found the right label yet.

“you here with someone?” he asks finally, voice still casual, but there’s a hint of curiosity threading through it now.

“my friend got the invite,” you say, keeping your tone even. “i just tagged along. didn’t even realize whose afterparty it was until…” your eyes flick toward him. “well. until i saw you.”

that earns you his full smile—not the rehearsed kind, but something softer, looser at the edges. whatever guarded suspicion he’d been carrying eases, replaced by a flicker of something else. amusement. maybe interest.

“so you’re not here to corner me for a selfie? no skincare interrogation?” he teases, brows lifting.

you huff a laugh. “i mean, the skin is suspiciously clear. but no.”

his grin tugs wider. he tilts his head, studying you a little longer than necessary. “you were at the show, though… right?”

you pause—then nod. “yeah.”

his eyes drop for a second. “thought so,” he murmurs, voice dipping just enough to make your breath stutter. “that pink skirt’s kinda hard to miss.”

your heart stumbles over itself.

“well,” you manage, “you put on a good show.”

“thanks,” he says, smiling like he means it. “wanna sit? it's quieter over there,” he nods toward a closed off corner of the suite—where the music’s softer, the city’s glittering outside the wide floor-to-ceiling window, and a plush couch waits like it’s part of the plan. 

you blink. “with you?”

he grins. “unless you’re still committed to bonding with that water bottle.”

you settle onto the couch, leaving a polite gap between you—respectful, casual, not too eager.

baekhyun drops down beside you a moment later. easy. relaxed. his knees part just enough to ground him, like he’s done this a hundred times, but somehow doesn’t feel rehearsed.

for a beat, he just sits there, sipping from his glass. then, gently, like he’s not sure if it’s too forward:

“so… what’s your name?”

you tell him.

he nods, eyes flicking down for a second like he’s committing it to memory.

a quiet pause.

then he glances over again, one arm resting along the back of the couch. his fingers drum lightly against the cushion, and there’s a flicker of something playful in his voice.

“do you usually show up at strangers’ after parties, or is tonight a special case?”

you let out a soft laugh. “you’re not exactly a stranger. i’ve seen you shirtless before. on a jumbotron.”

he huffs a small, nose-scrunching laugh. “ah, so we’re skipping introductions and going straight to shared history.”

“basically,” you say, lifting your drink. “we're practically close friends.”

he smiles wider, the boyish kind that starts in his cheeks before it reaches his eyes. “great. and here i am looking like i just rolled outta bed.”

your eyes flick over the hoodie and the slouchy beanie barely hanging onto his bleached hair. “you mean your softboy fit?”

“hey,” he says, mock-wounded. “this is premium downtime aesthetic.”

“sure,” you murmur into your glass. “total heartbreak fit.”

he grins, turns his body slightly toward you, eyes crinkling. “don’t say that like it isn’t working.”

you’re smiling before you even realize it. the banter flows easier than you expected—natural, not forced. and the longer he talks, the more you notice things. like how deep and calm his voice is when he’s not performing. how he pauses before answering, like he actually thinks about his words. how his fingers tap lightly against his glass, how he nods when you talk, really listens.

he starts telling you about this tiny bunsikjeom he swears by back home—some blink-and-you-miss-it shop tucked between a laundromat and a vet clinic. he goes on about how their tteokbokki is the best and how the ajumma there hates him, like genuinely scowls whenever he walks in.

“i always order, like, five portions of odeng. just for me,” he says, eyes wide, hands gesturing like this is life-or-death. “and she always yells, like—‘yah! save some for other people!’ but then she gives me extra anyway. she pretends she’s mad, but she totally likes me.”

he grins, ducking his head a little. “i think she worries i don’t eat enough.”

you raise a brow. “you’re ordering five skewers and she still thinks you’re starving?”

“exactly,” he says, mock-offended. 

you ask if fame ever gets lonely. he doesn’t dodge it.

“yeah, sometimes,” he admits. “but i’m used to being alone. i think i’m better at being with people now, though. or... the right people.”

you blink at that. it’s quieter than the rest of the conversation. unpolished. a little vulnerable.

and it hits you—he’s nothing like the stage version of himself. not the flirty idol who winks at cameras or sings with syrup in his voice. he’s calmer. sharper. grounded.

even the way he drinks feels different. slow. deliberate. not for show, just... because he’s thirsty.

you look at him again. really look.

and for a moment, you just sit with it. the quiet between you, the city glowing beyond the glass, the weight of something undeniably real blooming beneath the surface.

you don’t speak. you don’t need to.

because somewhere between the last laugh and the next sip of tequila, time starts to slip. the minutes blur, slow and easy, like the night’s decided not to rush. you’re both tipsy now—flushed, relaxed, limbs loose. the music plays soft in the background, and the suite glows warm and golden, like dusk frozen in place. it feels quiet. suspended. like everything outside of this cozy little corner of the suite has been paused.

he’s charming, but not in the curated way you expected. 

it feels private—like he’s peeling himself back one layer at a time just for you. less idol, more man. his voice is low, his stories surprisingly unfiltered, and he’s funny—actually funny, not just media-trained clever.

you find yourself leaning in before you realize it, pulled toward the gravity of his presence like he’s something your body already knew how to orbit.

he smells like warm skin and sugared spice—notes of something expensive laced with the earthy ache of man. every time he shifts, you catch more of it, and it’s dizzying.

you weren’t prepared for this. for him.

genuine. confident in a way that doesn’t beg for attention. grounded, but just enough ego to be dangerous.

not the distant, idolized version of baekhyun the internet likes to dissect in thinkpieces and fancams.

this version is real. present. and somehow even more disarming.

“so,” he says, glancing sideways, “tell me something that’s not small talk.”

his voice is low, unhurried.

you blink. “what, like… my credit card number?”

you smile, finally letting your shoulders drop a little. “okay, fine. i always cry during the last twenty minutes of ratatouille.”

baekhyun turns to face you more fully, brows lifting. “what gets you? the rat’s speech?”

“no, it wasn’t remy,” you say with a scoff, nudging his knee lightly. “his name is remy, first of all.”

he laughs—really laughs—and the sound curls warm in your chest. “ah, my bad. remy,” he echoes, grinning. “go on.”

you exhale, letting your gaze drift toward the glowing skyline beyond the glass. “it was the critic’s review. that part at the end where he talks about discovering something new, something unexpected, and how the world is always unkind to it.”

your voice softens, eyes fixed somewhere far away. “he says the new needs friends. and i don’t know—it hit something in me.”

baekhyun stays still beside you, his hand curled loosely around his drink, forgotten now.

“sometimes it just feels like... everything’s already been done. like no one’s waiting for what you have to give. and then this bitter old man eats a meal made by a fucking rat and suddenly he’s like—shaken. changed. reminded why he ever cared in the first place.”

you pause, then shrug, barely glancing at him. “i guess it reminded me that you don’t have to be expected to be meaningful. that you don’t have to be someone obvious to matter.”

baekhyun doesn’t say anything right away.

but something shifts in his expression. his jaw ticks, just barely. his lashes dip like he’s trying to hide the flicker of emotion behind his eyes, like he doesn’t want to give himself away.

because yeah—he fucking gets it. way more than you know.

not just the movie. not just the speech. but the whole aching truth of it.

he’s been living that risk lately—leaving the comfort of the company that built him, stepping out with nothing but belief and a dream that people might still show up for him. that what he has to offer—now, as he is—is still worth something.

he hasn’t said it out loud, not to anyone. but hearing you say it—watching you light up over something so honest, so deeply felt—it stirs something in him. makes him see not just the movie differently… but you, too.

you, sitting here in front of him, talking about hope like it’s something fragile and holy.

it makes him feel less alone.

and for the first time tonight, baekhyun forgets about being careful. about being cool.

he just looks at you like he’s seeing something rare.

something that might just change everything.

"you're not what i expected," he says, voice low—almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

you glance over, one brow lifting as you tilt your head. “good unexpected?"

he doesn’t answer right away. just looks at you—really looks—like he’s committing your features to memory one slow blink at a time. eyes scanning the curve of your mouth, the slope of your cheek, the way the light catches the side of your face. and then, finally, he nods. once. small, certain.

you smile, warmth curling beneath your ribs as you lift your drink and finish the last sip. the glass makes a soft sound as you set it down on the coffee table. “funny,” you say, easing back into the cushions. “i was just about to say the same thing.”

his lips twitch, curiosity sparking behind them. “yeah? how so?”

you hesitate for half a beat, choosing your words. “you’re… calmer than i thought you’d be. softer.” your voice dips, gentling. “more real. the version of you on stage is fun—electric—but it’s not this.”

his smile stretches slowly, not wide but genuine, like the words settle somewhere deep in him. like maybe they mean more than you know. “so what you’re saying,” he murmurs, “is that i’m not the guy i pretend to be when everyone’s watching.”

you bump your knee lightly against his, a tiny grin playing at your lips. “exactly.”

his gaze drops, lingers where your thigh presses to his. and when he looks back up, there’s something darker swimming there—something thick with heat.

your breath catches.

a strand of hair sticks to the gloss on your bottom lip, and before you can even lift a hand, his fingers are already there—brushing it away, tucking it behind your ear like it’s second nature. like he’s done it before.

the touch is soft. reverent. but it sets something off inside you, deep and molten. like your body recognizes him before your brain can catch up.

his gaze holds yours, gold and liquid in the warm afterparty lighting, and this time, neither of you look away. there’s no posturing. no pretending. just... him. and you.

he leans in, slow. lips brushing yours—barely there. testing the space between you.

you don’t move.

so he kisses you.

it starts soft. tentative. like he’s asking a question he already knows the answer to. but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens too fast, mouths parting, breaths catching, lips dragging, tongues meeting like they’ve done this before. like they remember.

your knees hook over his thighs without thought, your hips shifting, sliding into his lap like you were meant to be there.

and the second you settle—flush against him—he groans into your mouth, deep and wrecked.

“fuck,” he exhales, breaking the kiss just long enough to breathe, hands curling tight around your waist like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. like he needs to hold you steady or he might come undone.

you rock into him slowly, your skirt hitched high, the friction between your soaked panties and the heat straining in his sweats making your thighs tremble. your head tips back, a moan slipping out that you couldn’t hide if you tried.

his lips are on your throat now, jaw, collarbone—anywhere he can reach, desperate to taste more. his hands slide lower, gripping your ass with purpose, grinding you down like he’s starving. like this is the only thing that will satisfy the ache he’s been carrying all night.

“you’re drivin’ me fuckin’ insane,” he mutters, voice shredded, fraying at the seams. “you have no idea.”

you’re seconds from cumming—lips locked, skirt hitched high, his grip on your thighs desperate, like he’s caught between dragging you closer and anchoring himself from completely losing it—when a voice slices through the air like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head.

“uh, babe? you in here?”

you both freeze.

baekhyun’s mouth stalls against your jaw. your lungs forget how to work.

and then—

pure. fucking. chaos.

you scramble off his lap, nearly kneeing him in the balls in the process, tugging your skirt back down your ass like it’ll erase the last ten minutes. baekhyun shifts too, adjusting his sweats with hands that still shake a little. your lips feel kissed raw. your thighs ache. you don’t even want to know what your hair looks like.

mika stands just inside the doorway, one brow cocked, arms folded over her sparkly top like the mom friend she definitely is when necessary. her gaze sweeps over the scene—your smeared lipstick, baekhyun’s rumpled shirt, the space between you two charged and awkward, like the tension hasn’t quite settled. and you—frozen next to the couch like you forgot what to do with your body now that someone else is watching.

“meeks,” you squeak, trying—and failing—to sound casual. “hey.”

“hey yourself,” she says lightly, voice dipped in that syrupy sarcasm only best friends can perfect. “your phone’s dead. figured i’d check you weren’t, y’know…” she pauses, eyes sliding between you and baekhyun, mouth twitching. “kidnapped. or eaten alive.”

baekhyun lets out something between a laugh and a choke. you want the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

and then her gaze settles on him.

his bleached blonde hair is a mess—textbook post-makeout chaos. cheeks flushed, lips kiss-bitten, hoodie wrinkled like it’s been tugged in desperation. her gaze narrows. and you see it: the flicker. the click. the way realization sparks behind her lashes like a struck match. she knows.

of course she knows.

but mika? mika’s been around. she’s danced with indie film heartthrobs and ghosted rappers with stadium tours. she’s navigated VIP lounges and afters where NDAs are practically part of the dress code. she’s seen the famous, the infamous, and the almost-famous. and she’s never once made it weird.

so she doesn’t gasp. doesn’t scream. doesn’t say, “weren’t we just at his concert four hours ago?”

instead, she just raises an eyebrow—subtle, amused, dangerous—and shoots you a look that says i’m going to make you tell me everything.

then she shrugs. uncrosses her arms. casual as ever. “right. well. i’m heading out. you comin’ with or…?”

you look back.

and for the first time, really look.

bare skin—clean and fresh, faint traces of sweat still lingering at his hairline from earlier. his hoodie’s loose around his shoulders, the collar tugged slightly off-center, and his blonde hair sticks up in soft tufts where your fingers must’ve pulled through it.

he looks... manly like this. unstyled. real. almost heartbreakingly so.

and his eyes—they’re not teasing. they’re not flirty. not charming or rehearsed like they were earlier when he made you laugh into your drink. they’re quiet. open. like he’s asking something without saying it out loud.

you’ve never seen that look on him before.

not in music videos. not on stage. not even earlier tonight.

it’s not desire burning behind his gaze—it’s something softer. something closer to hope.

“stay a little longer, yeah?” he says, voice low. steady. like he’s giving you space to say no, but hoping to hell you won’t. “just for a nightcap.”

his thumb strokes your wrist again.

then, quieter—almost like he’s trying to make it casual, as if this isn’t something important—he adds, “i’ve got a charger for your phone you can use too.”

you don’t even realize you’re nodding until mika snorts.

“m’kay, text me when you’re done being ravished by kpop’s finest,” she calls over her shoulder as she turns to leave. “love you, don’t die.”

“mika!”

but she’s already halfway down the hallway, humming something that suspiciously sounds like ‘love shot.’

you glance back at baekhyun, cheeks burning, heart rattling behind your ribs.

he’s still holding your wrist, thumb brushing your pulse like he’s trying to soothe it—or match it. a crooked smile tugs at his lips, sheepish and flushed, whether from being caught mid-makeout or just the aftershock of it all.

like he hadn’t planned on you, but now he doesn’t really want to let you go.

his eyes find yours, soft and searching. there’s a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, but he doesn’t flash it like he does on stage or behind cameras. this one’s smaller. real.

he looks… relieved. maybe even a little stunned. like he’s not used to this—you. not just the kiss, not just the body heat, but the connection.

and there’s a flicker of something else in his expression too. not nerves exactly, but hesitation. like part of him is still processing that this is happening at all.

he rubs the back of his neck before reaching for you, voice low and careful. “i’m glad you stayed,” he murmurs, like it’s not something he says often. like it’s heavier than the words suggest.

his hand finds yours again, fingers brushing tentatively over your knuckles before he gently tugs you closer.

then he pulls you back into his lap, arms sliding around your waist, like it’s second nature—but his touch is more tender now. reverent. like he’s scared if he moves too fast, you might disappear.

you settle into him again, heart thudding, lips still tingling from the last kiss.

he exhales into the crook of your neck, voice barely above a whisper. “i-i don’t usually…” he trails off, his hold tightening slightly.

but he doesn’t need to finish.

you already know. 

and that truth—that rare, quiet truth—makes your chest ache in the best way.

you smile, and before you can say something to break the moment, he’s kissing you again.

but it’s different this time.

still hot, still messy, but it lingers. it asks. his mouth moves with reverence, his hands memorizing you, like he’s been starving for touch but terrified of being fed too well.

“woulda been devastated if you left,” he rasps, his lips brushing your ear as he speaks, voice rough and trembling with restraint.

then he nips—right below it. soft and precise. you jolt, hips twitching instinctively in his lap.

his hand moves like it has a destination. slow, deliberate, up the curve of your thigh, under the hem of your skirt. his fingers trail higher—light and teasing at first, but the moment he reaches the warm heat between your legs, everything sharpens.

you gasp.

his fingers still.

there’s a pause, heavy and humming.

you don’t have to see his face to feel the shift—the tension in his body, the hissed breath through his teeth, the unmistakable clench of his jaw when he realizes—

you’re not wearing anything underneath.

his fingers flex, knuckles barely grazing your slick folds.

“shit,” he breathes, almost to himself. “you’ve been sittin’ on me like this this whole time?”

you don’t answer. can’t. your chest is tight, lungs barely remembering how to fill.

he draws his fingers through your arousal, slow and deliberate, collecting the wetness before withdrawing. he brings his hand up, eyes locked on yours. his fingers glisten in the dim light, your slick catching the golden hue as he lifts them to his mouth.

you watch, helpless, as he slides his middle and ring fingers between his lips and sucks them clean.

his eyelids flutter, then flutter open again—gaze dark and fixed on you like he’s starving.

“where have you been all my fucking life?” he breathes, like it’s hurting him, like your taste is something he might never recover from. 

his cock twitches beneath you, hard and heavy beneath the soft cotton of his sweats, straining for more contact—more of you.

you don’t answer him—not with words.

instead, you take his hand in yours, slow and sure, like it belongs to you now. your fingers wrap tight around his wrist as you guide him back down between your thighs, the same fingers still slick from earlier. you spread wider, shameless, hips tilting forward like your body already knows what it wants.

he groans the moment you press his fingers into your soaked heat again—your cunt so wet and eager that he slides in without resistance. 

your back arches, lashes fluttering, a breathy moan spilling from your parted lips as he starts to move.

once.

twice.

a third time—deep, slow, curling just right, the pads of his fingers dragging against every spot that makes you whimper.

he’s watching you like he’s in a trance. like you’ve crawled out of some decadent, filthy dream with your lipgloss smudged and your hips rolling like you’re possessed by pleasure itself. 

his eyes don’t leave your face.

they can’t.

you keep your hand over his, guiding the pace, the depth—controlling him like a toy you know exactly how to play with. his fingers stretch you just right, knuckles brushing your dripping folds, your slick making a mess on both your hands.

then you whimper. soft. broken. 

it shatters him.

you lean in, your lips brushing his while you take those same fingers—wet and warm and still pulsing from where they were buried—and bring them to your mouth. your eyes lock on his, gaze steady, daring.

you part your lips and wrap them around his fingers slowly, deliberately, letting the gloss that still clings to your mouth coat his skin again. your tongue swirls over the pads, collecting your own taste, savoring him. his rings are cold against your lips—a metallic tease compared to the wet heat of your mouth.

his hips twitch beneath you, jaw clenching so hard you see the muscle tick.

he twitches beneath you. hips jerk. his jaw clenches so tight, you see the muscle flicker.

and you don’t stop.

you keep grinding down on him—slow, steady drags of your soaked pussy against his cock, your clit catching on the thick ridge of him through his boxers. the friction is perfect. devastating. addictive.

his eyes darken. voice drops.

“fuck,” he growls again, this time lower, more dangerous. “that’s it.”

suddenly, his grip tightens on your thighs, guiding you off his lap with shaky urgency. you stumble a little, knees weak, and he stands with you—his hand firm at the small of your back, the other sliding down to grab your wrist like he needs you moving now.

“can’t take it anymore,” he mutters, voice hot against your cheek, his breath a mess against your skin.

“i need you,” he growls, voice thick, fraying at the edges. “need to feel you wrapped around me. need to fuck the sweet, messy heaven you made on my fingers straight outta you.”

you whimper—helpless, already unraveling—and before you even register how fast you’re moving, you’re there. the hallway blurs. your hand is still locked in his, his grip unrelenting, like if he lets go now he might not get you back.

your pulse slams behind your ribs. you’re dizzy with how fast everything is unraveling. you follow him on unsteady legs, hips brushing, feet tripping over each other in the rush to get to the bedroom.

he’s not carrying you. he doesn’t have to. because he’s pulling you through the dark with a grip that says come with me. now. 

he reaches the door to his room, throws it open with one swift motion. his eyes burn when they meet yours—dark, wrecked, entirely gone for you.

the door clicks shut behind you.

baekhyun’s on you in the next breath—hands cupping your jaw, mouth crashing into yours like he’s starving for it, for you. there’s no prelude. no hesitation. just heat and teeth and breath, his lips pressed hard against yours as he walks you backward, blindly, toward the bed. he groans into your mouth, dragging you with him like his hands can’t bear to let you go for a second.

the beanie he had on earlier? abandoned on the couch. long gone. forgotten the moment your sweet mouth touched his. his sweater comes off first, pulled over his head with a grunt and tossed somewhere behind him. then his sweatpants, shoved down with one hand, the other still gripping your hip like you might disappear.

you whimper when your back hits the mattress, but he’s already climbing over you—pressing himself between your legs, kissing you like he’s trying to devour the moans from your throat. and fuck, you're giving them to him. whimpers and gasps and needy little sounds he swallows down like they’re fueling him.

you straddle his lap, feel him hard and hot beneath his boxers, the outline of his cock pressing into your soaked panties. your hands explore in desperate sweeps—his toned stomach, the cut of his hips, the way his muscles twitch when you grind down just right.

his hands are everywhere.

on your ass, kneading.

on your tits, squeezing, thumbs circling your nipples through your top until you’re arching into him, chasing the friction.

every stifled moan from your mouth makes him groan harder. every shift of your hips has him whimpering against your lips like he can’t believe this is happening.

you barely register the moment his hand slides down again. his fingers slip under your panties, push past the mess of slick already dripping for him.

two fingers, knuckle-deep, curling perfectly.

you cry out, hips jerking, grinding against the heel of his palm as his fingers fuck up into you—rhythmic, practiced, devastating. his palm rocks against your clit with every motion, and it’s too much. it’s all too much. he’s kissing you the whole time, tongues tangled, teeth clashing, spit messy between your mouths.

you ride his fingers like they’re his cock. pace quickening, hips stuttering, moans breaking against his lips as your thighs start to tremble.

“baek—fuck, i’m gonna!”

“cum for me,” he breathes, lips dragging down your neck. “cum all over my fingers, baby. wanna feel it.”

and you do—with a sharp gasp and a choked sob, your cunt clenches around him, gushing slick onto his hand. he holds you through it, lets you grind it out, rubs your clit as you shake and shiver above him.

he pulls his fingers out slowly, and you whine from the loss—raw, overstimulated.

but he just smirks, lifts his hand to his mouth, and sucks your release from his fingers like it’s honey. eyes on yours the entire time.

before you can catch your breath, he flips you onto your back and spreads your legs wide.

“need my mouth on you. now.”

you gasp as he drops to his knees, throws your legs over his shoulders, and buries his face in your pussy.

he devours you like a man starved—tongue dragging slow and unrelenting through your folds, lips sealed around your clit like he’s trying to memorize the way you taste. every flick is deliberate. every suck sends sparks skittering down your spine. and when he moans into you—low, guttural, wrecked—it vibrates through your core like a detonator.

his hands are ruthless on your thighs, fingers digging deep, spreading you wider like he owns the view between your legs. like he’s earned this. and maybe he has, the way he fucks you open with his mouth—relentless, greedy, like your pussy’s the only thing tethering him to earth.

you come hard. once. then again. and then again, your vision going white at the edges, your voice splintering around his name like a prayer gone hoarse. he barely gives you a second to breathe before he’s back on you, dragging you higher, refusing to let you fall.

he’s obsessed. addicted.

and he’s not hiding it.

he lifts his head just enough to speak, chin wet, lips swollen, eyes glassy with lust. “fuck,” he rasps, eyes locked on the mess he’s made of you. “you see this? see how you’re drippin’ for me? how the fuck am i supposed to stop now?”

his fingers slide back inside—two, then three—stretching you wide, curling deep. he finds your spot like it’s mapped in his muscle memory, like he’s been waiting his whole life to touch you like this. his mouth returns to your clit, licking with slow precision, sucking hard like he needs it to breathe.

“wanna fuckin’ die down here,” he murmurs against you, voice thick and ragged.

you sob his name, thighs trembling around his head, hips trying to jerk away from the overstimulation—but he groans at that. growls at that. hands dragging you closer, grinding his face deeper into your cunt like he’s chasing your next high through sheer force of will.

you cum again—this one violent, toe-curling, shaking so hard your hands can barely find his shirt. but they do. they grab, fist in the collar, tugging him up with desperation.

his mouth crashes to yours, wet and dirty, your slick still shining on his lips. the kiss is obscene. teeth, tongue, need.

and your hand’s already moving—slipping down between your bodies, palming the thick, aching bulge in his boxers.

“want it,” you gasp against his lips. “wanna feel you. want you inside me.”

his eyes darken, jaw clenched, a twitch of disbelief and desperate restraint cracking through his composure.

he exhales, like the words punch the air out of his lungs.

“how can i say no to you?”

his lips are still on yours when he lines himself up—boxers shoved down to his thighs, your legs draped open for him, panties tossed somewhere in the sheets. he strokes himself once, twice, teasing your entrance with the flushed tip of his cock, gliding it through your soaked folds.

“baby…” he groans, forehead pressing to yours. “fuck, you’re so wet.”

you nod, lips parted, eyes barely open. “please, baek. now.”

he pushes in slow—inch by inch, thick and deliberate—letting you take every bit of him, your walls fluttering from how sensitive you still are.

you cry out, spine arching, nails digging into his biceps. he groans, low and strained, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“oh my god,” he breathes, jaw tight, hips shaking as he bottoms out. “you’re fuckin’ squeezin’ me, baby—”

you whimper beneath him, completely overwhelmed—stretching around him, feeling every inch, the fullness dizzying. he stays still for a second, panting into your neck, like he's trying to pull himself back from the edge.

you clench around him again, needing more. needing movement.

he lets out a choked whine, lips brushing your skin, “fuck—feels like heaven,” he groans, voice wrecked. “you do that again and i swear i’m gonna cum just like that.”

your pussy tightens reflexively, and he moans into your throat—raw, helpless, feral.

you whimper again, your hips starting to move on instinct.

he matches your rhythm, slow at first—sensual, deliberate strokes that grind against every sensitive nerve inside you.

the room is humid with breath and want, skin against skin, the slap of his hips against your thighs growing louder as he fucks deeper, faster.

“such a good girl,” he rasps. “takin’ all of me like you were made for it.”

you fall apart again—loud, messy, clinging to him, heels digging in his lower back as your orgasm rips through you.

he fucks you through it, fingers tangled in your hair, kissing your tears away as you tremble and shiver beneath him.

round two hits different.

you’re pulled from sleep by warmth—his breath on your shoulder, the soft drag of his mouth kissing over your skin. 

you stir, barely, and feel his hand cupping your breast, thumb brushing your nipple.

his other arm’s wrapped tight around your waist, fingertips trailing lazy circles down your stomach, then lower. he’s hard again—thick and pulsing against your ass, and he ruts into the curve of your body without even meaning to.

“awake?” he murmurs against your neck.

you hum. “barely.”

“c’mere,” he whispers, rolling you onto your back.

his face is soft in the low light. it must be five a.m.—still dark, sky a velvety blue beyond the hotel windows.

you reach for him, pull him down by the face, and your mouths meet again—slow, sleepy, sensual. he sinks into you with a groan, no warning, no teasing. just raw, aching need.

you gasp into his mouth. he starts thrusting in long, slow rolls, his pelvis grinding against yours at the perfect angle. every stroke sends heat curling in your belly.

he doesn’t say a word—just exhales against your lips like he’s trying to pour everything he feels into that single breath. like if he kisses you any harder, you’ll know what he can’t put into words.

but it’s not enough.

you want more. need more.

your body moves on instinct—pushing him back against the mattress, crawling into his lap with slow, purposeful grace. your knees settle on either side of his hips, skirt riding up, your cunt slick and aching where it hovers just above the thick line of his cock.

his eyes drink you in like he’s never seen anything more stunning. heavy-lidded, lips parted, throat working around a breath he can’t quite catch.

“you’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers, voice low and reverent, his hands sliding up your thighs—gripping, kneading, tracing your skin like it’s holy.

you don’t answer. just sink down, slow and steady, taking him inch by thick, throbbing inch.

his breath punches out of him in a gasp, head thrown back, fingers digging into your hips. “shit—”

you ride him like you own him. hips rolling, bouncing, grinding down until your skin slaps against his with every thrust. the drag of his cock inside you is devastating—too good. too deep. and not nearly enough.

his moans grow ragged, sharp, the sound filthy in your ears. “fuck, baby—just like that. keep goin’. you feel so good—fuck, i’m gonna lose it.”

your hands brace on his chest, nails raking down the sweat-slick fabric of his shirt, chasing another high as your body trembles from the aftershocks. your pussy flutters around him, milking him greedily, overstimulated and still aching for more.

“cum for me again,” he groans, sitting up just enough to mouth at your tits, tongue dragging over your nipple through your top. “wanna feel you fall apart on my cock. wanna feel you drip down my thighs.”

and you do. again. helplessly. a cry ripping from your throat as you fuck yourself through the release, dizzy from how much he fills you. from how deep you need him. from how much you know this is going to ruin you.

and god—he loves it.

“baek—don’t wanna stop,” you pant, nearly sobbing. “feels too good.”

“then don’t,” he growls, gripping your hips so hard they might bruise. “fuck—ride me, baby, don’t stop.”

he thrusts up into you, losing control. the tempo turns messy, hungry, animalistic.

“god, you’re perfect—this pussy, fuck—it’s got me fuckin’ obsessed.”

you throw your head back, mouth open, eyes rolling as he slams up into you.

your cunt flutters around him again—tight, soaked, relentless—and he nearly loses control.

he’s shaking now, jaw locked, muscles flexing under your palms. everything in him winds tighter, like he’s seconds from snapping.

because how the fuck is this real?

he’s never felt like this. never needed someone the way he needs you right now.

he’s obsessed—with the way you smile mid-moan, with the soft whimpers that leave your throat every time he grinds into that perfect spot. your eyes—god, your eyes—rolling back, lashes fluttering like you’re seeing stars. your throat exposed when your head tips back in pleasure, that pretty, vulnerable neck he’s dying to mark up and call his.

it’s too much. too perfect. too you.

and when you fall forward, mouth crashing into his, the kiss is frantic—tongues messy, teeth clashing, like neither of you can get close enough.

your bodies are slick with sweat, pulsing with need, every nerve screaming.

and then he’s cumming. deep, thick, hard. his whole body jerks as he spills into you, hips grinding through the release like he’s trying to brand it into you—his claim, his worship, his fucking downfall.

and in that moment, nothing else exists. just the feel of you around him, shaking and perfect. just the sound of your breath in his ear.

and the quiet, terrifying realization blooming behind his ribs: you’ve already got him.

completely.

the room is quiet now. the only sound is your breathing—shaky, soft, slowing. his, too.

the sheets are kicked halfway down the bed, twisted around your ankles. your body’s still warm, flushed in places, marked in others. the air between you is thick with sweat and sex and something heavier neither of you has named.

baekhyun lies on his side, propped on one elbow. just… watching you. like he can’t not.

he brushes a damp strand of hair off your forehead, knuckles grazing your cheek. your lashes flutter, your lips part like you’re about to say something—maybe something dumb or playful or too honest—but nothing comes out. you just look at him.

and he’s struck silent all over again.

because fuck…

you’re so pretty like this. all wrecked and glowing, skin kissed raw, eyeliner smudged in the corners of your eyes. your lips are swollen from him, your pulse still visible in your neck where the marks are starting to bloom—places he’s already thinking about going back to. again. and again.

it wasn’t supposed to go this far. he was just supposed to party a little. blow off steam. it’s his first solo world tour—he’s been running on fumes and caffeine and pressure for weeks now. last night’s plan was to just fuck around a little, drink, unwind, and then move on to the next city like always.

but then you showed up.

the girl from the tenth row at tonight’s show. the one who danced like she didn’t care who was watching. the same girl he caught standing awkwardly at the bar at his afterparty, trying to act casual like she hadn’t just been screaming his lyrics a few hours earlier.

and now you’re here. in his space.

naked and tangled in his sheets, etched into the quiet of his night like you were always meant to be there. your chest rises and falls beneath blankets he never planned to share, in a city that meant nothing to him yesterday, and now feels like it’ll ache a little every time he thinks of it.

he exhales through his nose, slow and steady, voice soft against the quiet, “you good?”

you nod, lips tugging into a lazy smile, “don’t think i’ll be able to feel my legs for a few days.”

he grins, low and crooked, “yeah, me too. rehearsals are gonna be a bitch tomorrow.”

you both laugh—quiet, breathy, the kind that hums in your chest. and for a while, that’s enough. no words. no pressure to speak.

just stillness. skin against skin.

your fingers drift along the inside of his forearm, lazy and absentminded, like they’re just getting to know the shape of him. his hand rests on your hip like it’s always belonged there, thumb brushing slow circles into your skin—as if he's trying to memorize the curve of you before morning steals this softness away.

then your phone buzzes twice on the nightstand. sharp. insistent. a quiet jolt back to reality.

you glance over and notice the screen lit up, the charging icon glowing in the corner. he must’ve plugged it in for you while you slept.

something about that undoes you a little.

you shift, the weight of the moment settling over your chest. “i should probably go,” you murmur, not really wanting to.

but his hand doesn’t fall away. he just holds you a second longer—fingers tightening at your waist, like he’s still deciding if he’s ready to let you go.

“lemme get you a car home,” he murmurs, still breathless, hand grazing your hip like he’s reluctant to let go.

you nod, rolling onto your back, already feeling the loss of his warmth before he even moves.

he sits up, silent, swinging his legs off the bed and pulling his sweats back on. the soft sound of fabric, the creak of the mattress, the distant hum of the city outside—it all feels louder now.

you slide out of bed, slipping your top back on, fingers fumbling slightly at the hem. your panties are nowhere to be found. your heels are waiting by the door like they knew this was coming.

neither of you speaks as you both dress, the silence not uncomfortable—just full. full of everything unspoken. full of the way your body still aches from him.

you’re slipping your heels on by the door when something soft lands against your back.

you turn just in time to catch it—his hoodie. the same cozy grey one he wore to the afters earlier, still warm from his body.

you blink at him, lips parting, chest already tight with something you can’t name.

the hoodie smells like him—clean skin, faint shampoo, and something unmistakably you clinging to the fabric now. you pull it over your head. it swallows you instantly—the sleeves hanging past your hands, the hem brushing your thighs, heavy with the weight of the night still lingering in every thread.

his eyes follow the movement, lingering as you adjust it over your hips. 

he doesn’t say a word, but there’s a shift in his face—softened at the edges. like something quiet cracked open inside him.

he grabs the suite keycard from the nightstand and slips it into his back pocket like it's second nature. you’re still tugging at the sleeves of his hoodie, swimming in it, heart doing something stupid and fluttery in your chest when he glances back at you.

you follow him toward the door, and your hand just—finds his. like it was always meant to. he doesn’t say anything, just threads his fingers through yours and squeezes once. you don’t need words. not right now.

the hallway is quiet. like 3 a.m. quiet. the kind that makes everything feel softer, heavier. the elevator dings, and you both step inside. you expect silence. maybe a head-tilt goodbye. instead, his mouth is on yours again before the doors even close.

it’s slower this time. deep. his fingers slip into your hair, tug just enough to tilt your face up so he can really kiss you. and god, he does. like he means it. like he’s trying to burn the shape of your mouth into his memory just in case this really is the last time. your hands fist in his tee, your knees go a little weak. you sigh into it, drunk off him again.

there’s so much in this kiss. things neither of you planned. things he’s not saying. things you’re definitely gonna spiral about when you’re home and alone in your bed.

the elevator chimes again. he doesn’t let go immediately. just bites down on your bottom lip—gentle but deliberate—before he finally pulls away, breath still catching in his throat.

he keeps your hand in his as you both walk through the empty lobby. his thumb rubs slow circles over your knuckles, and it’s so stupidly sweet you don’t know what to do with yourself. outside, the air is crisp. the city’s winding down, the sky a soft blur of navy and gold. and the ache in your chest? yeah. that’s definitely real.

there’s a black truck waiting at the curb, engine humming low, windows tinted. you kind of hate how real it makes everything feel.

baekhyun walks you to the car without saying much, still holding your hand like it’s second nature now—like letting go would feel too final. when you reach the door, he opens it for you himself, his palm brushing the small of your back in that quiet, anchoring way. like part of him still isn't sure he wants you to leave.

you’re about to climb in when he pauses.

“i’ve got a couple more shows in the city,” he says, voice low and unreadable. his eyes flick up to meet yours. “if you’re around… and feel like crashing another afters.”

your heart stutters.

you look at him—white tee wrinkled from where you had your fists curled into it in the elevator, blonde hair still messy from your hands, from his own. he looks like no time has passed at all. like he could pull you back upstairs right now and you wouldn’t even hesitate.

you smile. “maybe.”

he nods, once. quiet. like that one word told him everything he needed to hear.

then he helps you into the car, his fingertips grazing your bare thigh as you settle into the seat. a soft touch. a question he doesn’t ask out loud.

he shuts the door gently behind you.

as the truck pulls away, you lean your cheek against the window, breath fogging up the glass. you try not to look back.

but of course you do.

he’s still there.

hands tucked into the pockets of his grey sweats, white hoodie sleeves pushed up, mouth unreadable. watching you go like he’s trying to memorize it—just in case you don’t come back.

your apartment feels too quiet when you walk in. 

not peaceful. not calm.

just quiet in a way that makes the whole night feel like something you imagined. like you’re stepping out of a dream barefoot.

you toe off your heels by the door, ankles aching, thighs sore in the best, most sinful way. your lips are still tender—kiss-swollen, tingling—and you’re swimming in his hoodie. oversized and worn soft, sleeves covering your hands, the hem brushing your upper thighs with every step.

your bag slips from your shoulder and lands somewhere near the kitchen counter. you don’t bother picking it up.

your phone buzzes the second you set it down. the screen lights up with notifications in a neat little stack:

instagram story likes. 

a dm from some guy you danced near at gravity. 

a flurry of messages screaming “YOU WENT TO REVERIE?! SO JEALOUS”

and then, of course—mika.

meeks 🦋

BITCH WHEN U GET HOME I NEED A PLAY-BY-PLAY!!!!! i saw the way he looked at u omfg i am unwell

you laugh under your breath, thumbs hovering over the screen—still unsure how to even begin explaining what the fuck just happened.

but then another notification rolls in from a contact you don’t remember saving.

B.

your brows pinch in confusion. you don’t remember saving that contact. 

you tap it open.

the first thing you see is a photo. a crisp, perfectly lit shot of an all access pass for the next two reverie shows in your city… and a sleek black suite keycard resting beside it on hotel bedsheets you recognize all too well.

beneath it, a message:

thought you might wanna crash again

your stomach flips.

you stare at the image, your thumb hovering over it like it might disappear if you blink too hard.

he must’ve done it—added his number into your phone sometime between kisses, between rounds, when you were half-dozing on his chest, legs tangled in the sheets.

quiet. sneaky. baekhyun.

a laugh escapes—disbelieving, giddy, a little breathless.

you bring the phone to your lips and smile, heart racing all over again. not from the concert. not from the alcohol. 

from this.

from the realization that you almost didn’t go.

you were tired. you were going to call it a night. but mika had to talk you into one more stop—just one more before heading home.

if you’d said no…

if you’d gone to bed like you planned...

you wouldn’t be here now, wearing his hoodie, smelling like his sheets, rereading a text from him.

your fingers hover over the screen for a second longer before tapping the heart on the image. 

you type back:

guess i’m yours for the next two nights then

send.

you sink into the couch, the weight of the night finally settling in your bones. you bury your face in the collar of his hoodie, still warm, still smelling like him—sweet skin and sweat and something that clings.

and for the first time all night, you’re so fucking glad you didn’t go home.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ i think i've got my edge back 😭😭😭😭 this one's for my fellow delulu girliez, hope ya enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it hehe <333333333

[hoshifighting]

       joshua hong + collar

— where you surprise him in the doorway, collar on your hand, waiting for him.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, choking, make-out, edging, handjob, mentions of body fluids (cum), sub!joshua x dom!reader.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

joshua’s body was still buzzing from the adrenaline of the performance when he opened the door, sweat drying on his skin as the exhaustion settled in. his mind was on autopilot, expecting nothing more than a quiet night—until he saw you standing in the doorway, your lips tugged into that smirk that made him know that you had something running on your mind.

something new. simple, but damn effective.

“what’s this?” he asks, confused, but interest already swirling in those pretty eyes of his. he’s staring at the collar in your hand—red leather, bold against your skin—and the strap that dangles from your fingers. his breath hitches when you step closer, your fingers brushing his jaw before holding the collar up for him to see.

“thought i’d try something different,” you hum, eyes never leaving his face. you see the way his lips part, a tiny gasp leaving him, the way his gaze flickers between your eyes and the collar. a flush is already creeping up his neck, and it only deepens when you wrap the strap around your hand, pulling it just tight enough that the leather brushes against his chest. “what do you think? hm?”

his breath shudders as he swallows, adam’s apple bobbing nervously. he nods yes, not trusting his voice enough to speak yet—he just knows he's risking to moan. so you waste no time.

you slide the collar around his neck, securing it with a soft click. he blinks, his pupils blown wide. his cheeks are flushed, pink against his skin, and the way his lips tremble as you pull him forward has your heart racing.

“c’mere,” you murmur, tugging on the strap, the leather digging into your palm as you pull him close enough that your breath brushes his lips. he stumbles a little, unprepared for how easily he’s giving in to this, to you. “you look good like this, baby.”

his lips part as if to respond, but before he can, you crash your mouth into his. as if all the tension from his night on stage has coiled up, waiting for this exact moment. your hands move up to thread through his hair, pulling him closer by the collar, and he moans against your mouth, the sound muffled between the way your teeth scrape against his bottom lip.

he’s melting into your touch, his body surrendering, his lips chasing yours like he needs you to breathe. and fuck, does it turn you on.

he barely can keep his thoughts straight. his hands are grabbing at your hips, his breathing ragged, and you can feel how hard he is already through his leather pants. “good boy.”

the moment those words leave your mouth, his eyes flutter shut, and his knees almost buckle. you push him back toward the bed, still gripping the strap, and he follows without protest. he looks at you through half-lidded eyes, blown wide and sub, and you’re barely holding back a grin at how fucking beautiful he looks right now—flushed, needy.

“on the bed,” you whisper, and joshua obeys instantly, his body sinking onto the sheets with shaky breath. his chest rises and falls quickly as you crawl on top of him. you tug the strap, making his eyes go wide as his body arches up toward yours.

“you gonna be good for me, joshua?” you tease, dragging your lips down his jaw, your words hot against his flushed skin. the collar feels tight around his throat now, and the way he squirms underneath you has your blood pumping faster.

“y-yes,” he breathes, voice shaky, his hands clutching the sheets beneath him, trying to ground himself. “fuck, yes, i’ll be good.”

the collar rests snug around his neck, and every time you give the strap a small tug, his breath hitches, his cock twitching in response.

“think you can hold it?” you whisper, as your hand wraps around the base of his cock. he gasps, his head tipping back, his throat exposed and vulnerable under the pressure of the collar. “you sure about that?”

“i-i can hold it,” joshua stammers, you can tell by the way his hips jerk up toward your hand that he’s already struggling. you slide your hand up, just enough to make him shudder, then pull back, watching as his cock throbs helplessly.

“hmm,” you hum, fingers teasing the sensitive tip, just enough to drive him crazy. “you sound so confident, but look at you, baby. you’re already shaking.”

his eyes snap open, wide and desperate, and you can see how badly he wants to touch you, to beg for more, but he’s holding back, trying so hard to be good for you.

“please,” he whispers, voice cracking as he bucks his hips up again, searching for any kind of friction. “i can hold it, i promise, just—please, touch me.”

you bite back a smile, tightening your grip on the strap. “you don’t get to make demands, joshua. that’s not how this works.” with a quick tug on the collar, you pull him toward you, the leather biting into his throat just enough to make him choke. his eyes roll back for a second, and you feel his cock twitch violently in your hand.

“fuck,” he gasps, his voice strangled. “oh my god—”

“see?” you murmur, your lips brushing against his ear as you loosen the strap just slightly. “that’s what happens when you forget your place.” your hand resumes its slow, torturous pace along his length, and joshua whimpers, the sound broken and breathless. “you don’t need to think. just let me take care of you.”

he nods frantically, eyes screwed shut as his hips move of their own accord, thrusting into your fist as you stroke him with agonizing slowness. you can feel how close he is, his cock pulsing in your hand, but you have no intention of letting him off that easily.

“fuck—please, i—i’m so close,” he gasps, his voice high-pitched and shaky. his hands reach for you, desperate to touch, but you pull the collar again, harder this time, forcing his hands back down to the sheets.

“what did i just say?” your voice is sharp now, and joshua’s breath hitches as the collar tightens around his neck. his lips part in a silent gasp, and his eyes flutter shut, his entire body trembling under the pressure. “you don’t get to touch me unless i say so.”

he tries to nod, but the choke makes it difficult, his body jerking involuntarily. his eyes roll back again, and for a moment, you wonder if he’s going to lose it completely, but then you loosen the strap just enough for him to breathe properly.

“good boy,” you purr, stroking his cock a little faster now, watching the way his chest heaves with every ragged breath.

“i—i can’t—” joshua’s voice is barely audible, his face flushed and drenched in sweat. his cock is leaking in your hand, his entire body straining against the pleasure as he teeters on the edge, and you can feel the way he’s trembling, trying to hold the cum in for dear life. “please, let me cum, i—”

“ah-ah no...” you cut him off, your hand squeezing just under the tip, stopping him from cumming. joshua groans, his body spasming as you keep him right there.

“hold it. understand?”

his answer is a broken sob, his hips jerking up again, and you can’t help but smile as you tug the collar once more, harder this time. joshua’s eyes roll back, his mouth falling open in a choked gasp, and the way his cock throbs in your hand tells you everything you need to know.

“feeling good baby? aww, should i use it more often then?” you whisper, leaning down to brush your lips against his. he’s too wrecked to respond, his head tipped back as his breath comes in short, shallow bursts, but the desperate way he bucks his hips says more than words ever could.

“y-yes,” he manages to choke out, his voice hoarse and breathless. “fuck, yes, u should—please—”

“shh,” you coo, kissing him softly, a distinction to the way your hand tightens around his cock. “you’ll cum when i say you can, okay? can you do this f'me?”

he nods again, frantic, his breath coming in broken gasps as you begin to stroke him again making sure to keep him right on the border. you can feel how badly he wants it, how close he is, but you hold him there, keeping him on the brink for what feels like an eternity. every time he gets too close, you pull the collar, watching as his eyes roll back, his cock twitching helplessly in your hand.

“please, i can’t—i can’t take it anymore,” he whimpers, his voice cracking as he finally breaks.

“you want to cum, baby?” you ask, as you stroke him just a little faster. his cock throbs in your hand, so close to spilling over, and you can see the desperation in his eyes as he nods.

“yes, please, please, i need it, i—fuck—” his voice breaks, his body spasming beneath you as you finally loosen the collar.

where did you find this? you whisper.

his entire body seizes, his hips jerking up as he finally, finally spills over, his cum coating your hand as he lets out a broken sob of relief. his breath comes in sharp gasps, his chest heaving as he rides out his orgasm, his body trembling beneath yours, as he hisses.

“where did you find this?” he asks, watching you unclick the collar.

“i'm friends with your stylist, who knows, mayyyybe you'll go on stage with this one day? hm?” you wink at him, slapping the collar leather on your hand.

his eyes widen “what?!”

“did i stutter?”

[milk-moonbunnies]

Well pussy drunk jeonghan who just enjoy your weak vulnerable overstimulated self 😩

WAP

Warnings: mdni 18+, cunninglingus, Jeonghan is evil, Jeonghan has a wicked mouth, teasing, dirty-talk, descriptions of manhandling, descriptions of a mating press, squirting, Jeonghan p*ssy drunk, makes you cry, suggestive ending - pwp

WC: 1248

Jeonghan believes he's a nice man.

But when you're looking up at him with adorable teary eyes, your lips wobbling as he kneels over you? It makes his heart skip in excitement, his cock jerking in his sweats just the same.

He caresses your leg, kneeling between your thighs, catching the way your pussy clenches around nothing. You were completely bare to him, and the sight has his lips curve into a dark grin.  "You’re so pretty like this." His words were soft, just like his fingers that spread your plush thighs open even more. "Look at her, dripping f'me."

Jeonghan's eyes hood, half-lidded, as his tongue drags across his bottom lip. "Ha-hannie." Your whine is pathetic.  Words already slurring - he'd been teasing you for so long, you felt like you were losing your sanity.

He had started innocently, pulling you onto his lap, warm hands sliding under your shirt and up your back as he pulled you into a kiss. He kissed you like you had all the time in the world, swallowing your cute little noises, keeping you from grinding down in his lap when he eventually deepened the kiss. His tongue languidly stroked over yours, coaxing you until you were desperate and needy in his hands. Just how he liked you. Your fingers tugging his hair into a disheveled mess. "Pl-please, need you, Hannie." 

Your pussy dripped heavily with your slick, your cheeks flushed, and your eyes glossy with want. You were so cute, letting him push you onto your back, stripping you naked while he stayed clothed. It always turned him on how easily you obeyed. The power stroked his ego like his hand did his cock, making his breath labored, pupils blown with lust.

“Spread those legs some more, pretty.”

How perfect you were for him - quivering and leaking so sinfully onto the sheets below. So debauched and wet for him - and if Jeonghan was any less of a patient man, he’d just fuck your pretty pussy right then and there. Feel you stretch around his hard cock, squeezing him deeper into your sopping, needy pussy.

But, no. Oh no, instead, he keeps eye contact with you as he lowers himself between your legs. His face is hovering over your drooling cunt, his hands moving your thighs over his shoulders so he can get a better look at you. "Hannie- don't tease," your whines come with a cute pout that makes Jeonghan huff a soft laugh. He turns his head to bite your inner thigh playfully and laughs more when you jolt from the sting.

“Be careful for what you ask for, Pretty.”

-

Jeonghan - oh, he’s just in heaven - letting out a deep, guttural groan, lapping so greedily at your sweet juices. His fingers are digging into the meaty parts of your thighs as they shake.

You’re crying, big fat tears rolling down your cheeks as he buries his face deeper into your weeping cunt. It’s been hours, or what felt like hours, trapped under his strength as he made you cum on his tongue over and over again.

His jaw aches, the lower half of his face drenched in your sweet honey. But it’s not enough. His tongue licks broad strokes, sucking your glistening folds with a wet ‘fwop.’ He makes out with your pretty pussy messily, the wet noises echoing in the room and adding to the warmth that grows in your stomach again.

You felt delirious. Crying wantonly, twisting your fingers in his hair, disheveling it more as you fought between pulling him closer or pushing him away. He’s lavishing you with the swirling edge of his tongue. “Oh fuck-“ your moan twists into a high-pitched whine, his head shaking to swipe his nose over your hypersensitive clit.

All five of his coarse fingertips are digging into the cheeks of your ass, holding you firmly to his open mouth. His glistening tongue slobbering all over your pussylips, soaking his taste buds with your sweet honey like it was his lifeline. And when his tongue stuffs inside your sopping cunt, curling just right, you’re seeing stars.

Your toes curl, your hips buck, and your mouth drops as you gasp. Your orgasm flashes through you hard, your juices flooding into his waiting mouth with a splash. You miss the way his hips grind into the bed below for friction; your whole body shudders in pleasure.

Trying to run from Jeonghan’s sinful mouth, your blurry vision catches him smiling at you like a predator does to a prey they‘ve trapped.

Jeonghan’s lips are puffy, slicked with your cum and his spit. He sneers at you with a dangerous smirk, his hand on your ankle as he speaks down at you. “Where d’ya think you’re going, Pretty?” His hand becomes a vice grip, dragging your plaint and humming body back to him. His hands hold both of your ankles, pushing your legs up into a filthy mating press that takes your breath away. “You said no teasing,” his eyes swirl with a dark chaos as he leans down to your puffy cunt, it’s still quivering, weeping for him. “Now, take it like a good girl.”

You watch as he moves one hand down to your drooling cunt, fingers spreading your glittering wet folds apart and then making eye contact with you.

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Jeonghan purses his slicked lips and spits on your quivering pussy. His warm wad of saliva drips messily through your folds and mixes with your sweet juices. It’s filthy, dirty, and obscene. But it’s oh so hot when he wastes no time, leaning down, his tongue chases after it, twisting, filling your cunt and curling deep inside you - you scream.

Your eyes cross, your mind blanks as he keeps going. He eats your pussy like a man starved, slurping and sucking for his pleasure. His arm pressed down the back of your knees to keep you trapped, spread wide shamelessly, and under his mercy.

All you could do was take it. Tears stain your cheeks and the pillow under your head, your thighs burning, lungs aching for breath as he wraps his wicked lips around your clit, sucking the nub harshly as his tongue flicks over it faster.

Your fingers claw the drenched sheets under you - the knot in your tummy twisting so hot, like never before. You can only gurgle Jeonghan’s name halfway before a warmth spreads through your whole body. Your tongue lolls out of your mouth, completely made dumb by his tongue when you squirt. You don’t make a sound, jaw slacked open in a lewd expression as your head tilts farther back in the pillows.

Your sweet honey splashes across his face, down his chest, and all over your legs. The slick noises increase in volume, your walls clamp on Jeonghan ‘s evil tongue, and your whole body slumps. The tremors in your inner thighs stay long after the aftershocks. Every soft lick of Jeonghan licking you clean, making your whole body flinch with an electric zap!

When he’s satisfied, he sits up, his face dripping with your arousal filthily that you almost don’t notice he’s got his hard cock in his hand. You blink dumbly, brain turned to mush as he smacks the head of his cock on your raw pussy. You jolt with each slap, your ear ringing as he raises an eyebrow at you with a cruel smirk.

“Spread those legs some more, pretty.”

-

A/N: I just need Jeonghan to hold me down and make me take it.

Anyways, love to see your comments, kudos, and feedback! Hope you enjoyed 👍🏼

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[jeonghantis]

✧ — GALIPETTE! (c.sc)

PAIRING ⇝ choi seungcheol x reader.

SUMMARY ⇝

just wearing some mini skirts don't close your eyes this ain't for you aka: after the tragic end of your relationship, it's no surprise just how much you grew to hate choi seungcheol, the reason for it all. but still, he was the best fuck you ever had.

TAGS ⇝ uni!au, fratboy!seungcheol, exes that still fuck, smut.

WARNINGS ⇝ language, fem!reader, arguments (too much..), explicit sexual content (MINORS, DNI!) semi-public(?) sex, hate sex, eventual soft sex oop.

PLAYLIST ⇝ galipette (bibi remix) by lolo zouaï & bibi; pl4yg1rl by lolo zouaï; bla bla bla by mäneskin; if not for you by mäneskin.

WORD COUNT ⇝ 6.6k words

NOTE: alright so.. it's been two years.. :pained_smile: i swear to god i could have finished it sooner if i just made cheol and reader-chan stop TALKING SO MUCH but my friend said they adored the talking which just opened a whole lot more yapping from them. i'm sorry if this is so out of date now and if someone already did something similar.. i swear i can show proof that i started writing this shit out two years ago. ok i should stop talking now LMAO. it's been a very long time coming so i hope you guys enjoy what i've been laboring over. also yes, this is connected to my other fic, heaven angel with yoon jeonghan. so, this is me shamelessly making you guys read my other fic (though this is completely fine as a standalone so don't worry). if this does well, maybe i might open up a whole fratboy au for svt where each member gets their own fic or whatevuh.. haha.. who said that.. also for my star @cheolhub 😻 i'm so sorry it took so long but heyyy surpriseeee haha... (idk if you still go on here). also thank you to @szakias for proofreading and enabling cheol and reader to be the yappers that they are. thank you for encouraging me theses past two years for this damn piece. your live reactions give me joy. i love you. xx

reblog & replies are very appreciated!

explicit warnings under the cut.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS ⇝ hate sex, (semi?) public sex, car sex, makeout scene, oral (f), degradation, reader is a BRAT, praise, petnames (baby, doll), mention of sharing you with other people, slight dubcon (or straight up dubcon.. sorry but reader is ACTUALLY VERY INTO IT I SWEAR), unintentional orgasm denial, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, breeding, a bit of overstimulation.

Choi Seungcheol was a real piece of work. He was arrogant, a true self-centered ass of a person, and just so severely driven by his own ego that he would’ve done anything to safeguard it, even if it meant hurting other people. And he had. He had hurt you. He had hurt the relationship you both had beautifully built over the years and oh how fast did it crumble.

So, you should hate him. You do hate him. You hate seeing his face. You hate breathing in the same space as him. And absolutely, you hate kissing these thick lips of his that’s currently melding with yours almost too perfectly.

“Still obsessed with me, aren’t you?” Seungcheol grins smugly against your mouth as he eases his body further into you until your back is pressed hard against the side of his car. “Why else would you show up at my house party?”

“You’re so full of yourself,” you scoff, but manicured hands are fisting themselves around the thick material of his jacket to tug him impossibly closer, your tongue shoved inside his wet mouth and licking up against the roof. “What if I just wanted to have fun at a party?”

“Like that’s believable,” he grunts, roughened hands venturing down your figure and up your tennis skirt where it rests over the curve of your ass. “You even wore the skirt I like on you.”

“It’s my favorite skirt,” you counter.

“It’s the skirt you know I like to fuck you in.”

“It’s the skirt I like to get fucked in. Really, Cheol, stop thinking about yourself. I didn’t wear it for you.”

The darkness was thick tonight, the faint glow of street lamps being the only thing illuminating the driveway around them, as well as the mischievous look that was written all over Seungcheol’s face when he drew away from you. You knew that look too well and hated how heat stirred in your stomach at the sight of it. The hate only grew when his finger hooks itself around the band of your panties and pulls it taut before letting it snap back against your skin. It prickled harshly, and you had to chew down hard on your bottom lip to keep a yelp at bay. You would not give him that satisfaction. 

“And yet you’re here with me,” Seungcheol cocks his head to the side. “Letting me feel you up your favorite skirt while you shove your tongue down my throat.”

Warmth crept up your cheeks, but you still didn’t let up. “You seemed to be the most convenient fuck.” 

His jaw flexed but his lips were still curled. “Was I now?”

“Well,” you hummed. “There was someone else also in mind.” The lie slips from you too easily. But you shouldn’t have said it. It wasn’t a lie that there had been another convenient person. You fooled around with him before; earlier, you had caught him eyeing you too eagerly as you twirled about in your skirt on the dance floor. He just wasn’t a true option to you, not anymore, and not when Cheol had stood right beside him looking just as eager if not more.

But Cheol now grew stern, his gaze darkened and weighted. “Who?”  

“Who I want to fuck is none of your business,” you snorted but you’re the one grinning this time. “I would’ve gone to talk to him had you not practically dragged me out here.”

His hands start to grip at your hips. “Do you think he’d be good at it?”

“Rude,” You snicker and tap a teasing finger on his chest. “What’s it to you? I can fuck who I want.” 

“How many people have you fucked since you broke up with me?” Rancor stained his tone as he completely ignores your questions, pressing himself harder against you until you can feel his growing erection against your hip. 

“What’s it to you?” you ask again venomously, actively ignoring his advances as you lift your chin up high to stare him down. “Why the fuck do you care?”

“Were they as good as I am?” Seungcheol urged, grasping your chin in his fingers. “Did you finish as hard as you did when you were with me?”

  This lie doesn’t come as easily. There’s a silent beat of hesitation before you reply, “I did.”

But Seungcheol was no idiot. He had caught it and his lips were already spreading into the nastiest smile.“Oh, did you now?”

“I came harder on his tongue than I ever have on yours,” you snapped back harshly and that wasn’t a lie. 

Seungcheol had also caught that it wasn't. You could practically feel the heat of his anger emanating from him and the grip he had on your face was almost bruising. 

“Oh, did you now?” He says again.

You’d come to regret your words later on, but for now, your gaze was unfaltering. “Until my legs were shaking.” You tilt your head. “I don’t recall you ever doing that for me with your mouth.”

When his anger flared brighter, your grin grew wider. 

“You piss me the fuck off,” Seungcheol seethed.

“Yeah, well, the feeling’s mutual,” you parried with a roll of your eyes. A finger taps on the car door. “So, hurry up and unlock your car so we can fuck and get out of each other’s sight.”

Seungcheol gives you a long look, his lips twitching. “I forgot my keys inside the house.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me, Cheol,” you sighed and shoved him off you. “Now, what? We go back inside and into your room instead?”

“No,” he immediately said, stepping right back into your space. “I’ll take you right here.”

Your eyes narrow, but your pulse quickens. “Now, you’ve really got to be shitting me.”

“I’m not.” His hands roam again under your skirt, tracing featherlight lines up your thigh. “No one’s here, and if I recall correctly, you don’t mind a little danger.”

“Cheol,” you try for stern, but your voice wavers.

“C’mon, baby,” Seungcheol laughs darkly. “It’ll be fun, just like old times. I know you want to.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“You’re still trying to put up a fight?” He asks, amused. 

Your mouth falls open to speak, to retort with the most vicious spite, but a strangled moan comes to supersede it. Seungcheol had cupped a hand over your clothed cunt, his middle finger stroking over the soaked-through lace. Your own hand went to grip at his arm, nails digging into the thick material of his jacket.

“Why try?” Seungcheol pressed on, leaning in until his lips hover over your ear, breath tickling. “I can feel how wet you are, baby. The thought turns you on, doesn’t it? The thought of being caught? You’re still the same whore.”

“Just hurry the fuck up,” you hiss sharply, breath hitching. 

“Or maybe not,” he clicks his tongue and pushes himself off of you. “You used to be so nice.”

“I’m nice to people who deserve it.”

“And I don’t?”

You stare at him, long and hard. “You’re really asking me that?”

He huffed a laugh, one without humor, but in his eyes, there was a faintest flicker. “What do I have to do to deserve it again?”

“Get to fucking me and I’ll consider it.”

Seungcheol scoffed but said nothing more.

And you smile, pleased by his compliance though as begrudging as it was. But as quickly as your smile appeared, it recedes into a frown of confusion when Seungcheol gets down on his knees.

“What are you - ?”

“Eating you out, what else does it look like?” Seungcheol replied, lifting up your skirt. “You really think I’m going to let what you said slide? No, I’m going to fuck you with my tongue.”

“Did it bother you that badly?” You grunt out, exasperated, but anticipation and want twist your insides. “Who has the obsession now?”

Seungcheol did not bother to retort and instead latched his mouth right over your covered sex, his warm tongue laving you up deeply.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp out too loudly before immediately throwing a hand over your open mouth

“Don’t,” Seungcheol grunts against you and raises a hand to land a hard slap against the side of your ass. “Don’t fucking cover your mouth.”

You glare down at him “People will hear -”

“The music is way too loud for them to hear your pathetic moans,” Seungcheol points out when he draws back, a smug simper pulling his lips. “A shame, really. I did want them to hear you. Especially whoever the fuck else you wanted to fuck tonight.”

You ignore that. “And your neighbors?”

“It’s the dead of night and they’re too far away to hear you probably.” His brow raises. “As long as you don’t plan on screaming my name, that is. I could make that happen if you want.”

“Don’t kid yourself,” you snort and place a hand on his head for you to push his face back against your cunt. “Just hurry up.”

A strange murmur is made against you. You frowned.

Was Seungcheol laughing?

Before you could fully discern it, prying fingers tug your panties to the side and the wet heat of Seungcheol’s mouth replaced what it had covered.

As intense as Seungcheol had been with his ripostes, the disparity of his pace was a bit jarring. He moved slow, almost languid, but none of it was meant to tease. In fact, it was as if Seungcheol was savoring you, running his eager tongue along your seam and lapping up the nectar trickling down, leaving none to waste. There’s another murmur made right to your core, but this time you knew what it was—a moan so deep and hungry—and it’s the smallest spark that fuels the starting flickers of pleasure low in your belly.

Your thighs strain in his hold and despite his insistence, you still attempt to swallow down noises that threaten to come out with a bite on the inside of your cheek. And he senses your stubbornness because he’s further burying his face into your cunt, his thick lips fastening around your clit to suck on with a growing fervency of a starving man. Much to your dismay, it works wonders because you’re gasping as if air had been ripped out of your lungs, your body bowing forward as if you’d been socked hard in the gut.

“O-Oh my fuck, Cheol - !” The words come out of you in an airy mix of a laugh of disbelief and just pure pleasure, because holy fuck, where was this eager energy before?

 Seungcheol is working you open deliciously and so sinfully, his thumbs coming at the sides to spread your cunt wide as he drags the flat of his wet muscle over your labia, leaving no crevice untouched. When you’re perfectly drenched in a sinful concoction of your own fluids and his saliva, he moves even deeper, this time spearing his fervid tongue inside you.

At this point it’s hard not to give in. You’re mewling, a hand furiously holding his head in place for you to rut against his very face, while the other furiously bunches up your own skirt to keep your view of Seungcheol from being obstructed. More than just feeling it all, you also wanted to see how he worked, how his tongue dips and laps with elation at the wetness you leak. It's embarrassing how quickly your legs shake beneath you, evidence of just how long you had been starved of being touched like this. So, you now appreciate how languid his movements are, knowing that if it had been any faster, you’d be crumbling at the same speed.

“Is this what you wanted, doll?” Seungcheol drawls when he pulls back for a moment for some air, his labored breathing hot against your core. “Good enough for you, hm?”

“Yes,” you huffed out, hips jerking to chase after his mouth. He indulges, licking a fat, wet stripe up your slit, and you’re writhing in his hold again. “It’s so good, baby. Please don’t stop. Please - ”

You catch his curl of lip, feel it right up against you, before it goes to resume its lustful ministrations. It’s back on the swollen, sensitive nub of you, sucking with tongue flicking over it. A finger is added—a thumb breaching your channel and hooking—and your quivering legs would have given out from under you if your hand had not hurriedly reached for one of the car’s handles. You forgo watching him for balance as the skirt once again falls over him, but that doesn't matter much anymore when Seungcheol finally sets a rhythm that has fiery bliss twisting your insides, consuming you whole. 

This was the thing about Choi Seungcheol. No matter how much you deride and criticize him, no matter how much you claim to hate him, no one was as incredibly well-tuned to your body as he was. He knew what had been a lie and what wasn’t, and so he knew what reactions to watch out for, what you liked and didn’t care for. And with what you spat at him about his oral ineptness, he seemed especially keen now, eyes calculating every twitch, ears perking at every noise. What seemed like practiced movements turned into something natural now, and with every stroke made only pushed you further over the edge. 

“I-I’m so close.” The words were a pain to utter. Some of it was because of hurt pride of having to admit and succumb to Choi Seungcheol. The majority of it was because Seungcheol moved his tongue in a way that has your throat tightening up, has stars tainting your line of vision. When Seungcheol goes down to lap at your fluttering hole, you cant up your hips almost wildly for his nose to brush up against your clit. When his mouth pays your clit direct attention again, you’re pushing his face further in to revel in its decadent warmth. The pleasure was piercing as it was constricting, racketing your frame, seizing your muscles. And Seungcheol is merciless, maintaining pace but movements growing hungrier and sloppier. Your jaw goes slack, falling wide open for the most ludicrous moan to spill over -

“Y/N?”

You both go rigid.

You peer down and find Seungcheol pulling away from you to give you a questioning look. You echoed the sentiment. 

Two pairs of eyes wander around, searching for the intruder only to be met with the empty night and its breeze, until the voice sounded again from behind, and sounded just a little closer than it had been. 

“Y/N?” A short pause, before its volume softens. “Did she leave already?”

There’s a frown pulling your lips down. The voice rang familiar, but in your lust-oriented head, it took a ridiculous amount of effort to put a face with it. But you didn’t dare turn back to check for yourself.

Seungcheol figured it out first. He’s yanking you down hard by the wrist until your head is hidden away by his car. You stumble around with still-quivering legs, shoe scratching roughly against concrete, and Seungcheol reaches to steady you with hands on your waist.

Light footsteps trudge near. “Who’s there?”

“Make a little more noise, why won’t you?” Seungcheol hissed at you through gritted teeth, then gestured a chin out. “It’s Lee Chan.”

You stilled. “Chan?”

“Yeah.” Seungcheol regarded you. “So, stop talking.”

“You talked first -”

He threw a hand over your moving mouth and narrowed his eyes in warning. You gave him an obnoxious roll of your eyes. His hand stays glued on you as he stands and finally acknowledges the younger. “Chan, hey. What are you doing out here?

“Oh, Cheol,” Chan said, voice dropping. “I was just looking for… Nevermind. What are you doing crouching over there?”

“I dropped something.” The excuse was lame, but his tone was cool, much too calm for comfort. “Why were you looking for Y/N?”

You grow tense and you can only imagine Chan did as well from how he replies. “Oh, um. I - uh - had something I needed to talk to her about.”

“Well, she left,” Seungcheol lied nonchalantly. “I could take a message for her.”

There’s a pause. “Aren’t you guys not talking?”

“We worked it out.” You hope Seungcheol could feel your sneer against his palm. “What did you want to say to her?”

“It’s really something that’s between us, really.”

Seungcheol shrugged, but you caught a glint in his eyes. “Suit yourself.”

A shuffle of feet against the pavement. “Are you coming back in yet?”

“I will,” Seungcheol said and reached for something in his pocket. Your eyes bulge out of its sockets at the sight of his car keys being drawn out, and it took every fraction of self-control not to bite his hand off right there. There’s a click of the lock and Seungcheol opens the door for the backseat. “There’s just something I need to do first.”

“Well, better hurry it up,” Chan said. “The guys are getting rowdier with you and Jeonghan gone doing god knows what.”

“Mhm,” Seungcheol hummed, completely uninterested and obviously not listening to what was said about the fraternity being laid to waste with the lack of present leadership. The president was more occupied with hauling you up by your arm and forcibly pushing you onto the seats of his car. 

You land hard on your back with a gasp. There’s barely enough time to adjust yourself as strong hands grab hold of your legs to drag you close to the edge.

“So,” Seungcheol started, palm soothing over the insides of your thighs to spread them wide. “Chan?”

“What about him?” You try to level your voice, but it’s hard when his deft fingers slip your panties down your legs, the cool evening breeze kissing your cunt.

“Was it his mouth?” Seungcheol asked coolly as he got back down on his knees.

You watched him, careful. “What are you on about?”

A click of tongue. “You know better than to play dumb with me.”

“But I’m -” You stop yourself when Seungcheol flickered his gaze to you, daring you, warning you. 

“Be careful of what you say,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the side of your knee. “It’ll determine what I’ll do next.”

You chew on your bottom lip and perch yourself up on your elbows. “There’s nothing going on between Chan and I.”

His lips pull into a mysterious smile. “That’s not what I asked, doll.”

Irritation gnawed on you. “I don’t owe you any explanation. You lied about not having your keys.”

“I think fucking my friend holds a lot more weight than that.”

You tried to remain impassive.“Does it?” Seungcheol hummed. “Agree to disagree then.”

“I have no idea what’s gotten you so upset,” you began to say, though the words come out strained when Seungcheol decides to line kisses up the inside of your thigh. “You used to talk about how you’d love to share me with your friends - ”

“When I’m around,” Seungcheol interrupted, irked. “That’s a massive fucking difference.”

Something inside you snapped. “Well, when were you ever?” The silence was weighted, settling over you, smothering you. 

Seungcheol raised his head. 

“That’s not fair.” There was a tonal shift in his voice–one that made you visibly wince, but your gaze was unwavering on his, pride tightening its reins. 

“Didn’t feel fair to me either when you just left that day,” you retorted, meaning to sound vexed but it comes out too careful, too soft.

Seungcheol rose to his feet, bristling. You waited for that temper of his to appear, waited for sharp words to pierce through. But what came instead shook you harder than anything you could have ever possibly prepared for.

“I’m sorry that I did,” Seungcheol said. Shadows obstructed your vision of him, so there was nothing to rely on besides the sincerity bleeding from his tone. A hand squeezed your thigh. “But you weren’t exactly the kindest to me either that day.”

Your eyes shift away, eyelids fluttering shut.

 There was no argument to battle that. 

Seungcheol’s touches retreat to rest atop your knees. His mouth opened, then closed. It’s when it opens again for roughly the third time, you decide to save his breath.

“I didn’t sleep with Chan.” 

His mouth closed.

Your eyes open and find him. “We just.. Fooled around a little. It was a stupid, drunken decision. We both were out of it, really. We  ran into each other at some party and drank together. He kept telling me how pretty I was, how you were a fool to have let me go. I only realized what happened by the end of it I just - !” You shook your head of the imagery, of that dark hallway and the glint of Chan’s heady gaze looking up at you. “I don’t know.”

There was another round of silence. A finger taps lightly at the side of your knee and you feel yourself shirk a little with every beat.

Seungcheol’s voice was almost a whisper, but the effect of his words against the quiet, he might as well have yelled. “I haven’t slept with anyone since.”

Oh.

“I couldn’t bring myself to,” he confessed. “I’ve tried, but it just didn’t feel… right.” 

When the last word left him, his eyes searched your face, searching for an answer to a question unasked.

Did it feel right when you were with Chan?

It would be a fruitless search for Seungcheol. 

Seungcheol exhaled. “Every time I tried, it never felt right. They were all great and eager, but.. But they just weren’t you.” You feel his fingers fidget on your knee, his thumb rubbing nervous, idle circles. “Chan—damn that little bastard—was right about one thing though: I was—am—a fool to have let you go. I shouldn’t have left you that day. I should have swallowed my pride, came back to you and apologized like a fucking man. I’m months too late, and you can hate me all you want, but please just know that I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me because I don’t think I could ever forgive myself for hurting you the way I did. I never wanted to hurt you. You’re the last person I ever wanted to hurt.”

By the time he was done, his chest heaved; whether it was because he had used too much breath for his spiel or felt too much during it, you did not know. You did not know a lot of things right now. Everything inside you was in turmoil, debilitating any formation of every and any thought possible, and yet… Perhaps it was you that ended up feeling too much, despite yourself, that was one thing for certain that you knew. What you felt however…

You sat up, propping yourself with your palms behind you flat on the leather seats. You were close enough to Seungcheol now that you could feel the warmth of his breath caress over your cheeks. With this distance, you could see him just a little clearer now, see the caution written all over him. But he did not pull away. 

You let out a shaky breath. “Do you mean it?”

Seungcheol did not miss a beat. “Yes.”

“You’re really sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“I already got down on my knees for you.”

“But you didn’t say sorry then.”

“And you’re making me want to take it all back.”

Despite yourself, you cracked a smile. 

Seungcheol mirrored it. 

You lay a hand atop his. “So, you really do mean everything you said?”

Seungcheol grunted but took your hand in his. “Yes. Seriously - ?”

You cut him off. “That Chan was only right about one thing?”

He tilted his head. “What - ?”

You tilted your head. “What about how pretty I am?”

Silence. Then -

Seungcheol laughed. Bright and full. “God, you piss me the fuck off.”

“So, you’ve told me,” you grinned. 

Seungcheol reaches for you, a hand cradling one side of your jaw. His eyes caught the glint of the light outside and there, you saw the tender warmth flickering in them. “You’re beautiful. My pretty little doll, I’ve missed you.”

This was the thing about Choi Seungcheol. No matter how much you deride and criticize him, no matter how much you claim to hate him, you did not—could not—hate him, because damn it all, you loved him. You still love him. You love seeing his (stupid little) face. You love breathing in the same space as him. And you’d tell him all this soon enough, and you’d tell him how sorry you were too, but right now, all you could think about was how you love kissing these thick lips of his that you’ve soon captured in your mouth, and damn was it fucking perfect.

The rumble of laughter he makes against you rouses the most delightful tremor down your spine. Your knees give way to accommodate his body as he leans you back down on the seats again, pressing himself hard against you. There’s a grind of his hips on yours, not at all subtle with its primal needs. You aren’t either with the way you clawed at his back, your lower frame lifting to meet in time with his; it hurt, just a little, to have your bare cunt rub against rough denim, but with this desperation that was so deeply carnal, it was enough to galvanize a delicious friction scurrying through your body, to have you crave for more. 

But for Seungcheol, the one fully clad in clothes, it was not enough.

The temperature rose as the passion did, and in this cramped space, it all became harder to breathe when all you both did was swallow each other’s breaths. Seungcheol’s jacket that you had so desperately clung onto was shrugged off his shoulders and thrown into god knows where, and soon, his hands busy themselves with the button of his jeans. You still could not see for shit, and so your heart rammed hard against your ribcage at the mere sound of his clothes ruffling about. When Seungcheol released a sigh, you knew he must have relieved himself of the clothed confines, or maybe had a hand on himself too. Curious, your own hand reaches between your bodies blindly, searching and aimless, then -

“Fuck,” Seungcheol breathes when you find what you’re looking for, fingers wrapped around the girth of him. He’s oh so warm, a hefty weight on your palm that throbs thickly. Then, you feel the jerk of his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking into the ring of your hand. And you’re unable to stop the giggle of delight that bubbles up your throat.

You felt his pointed gaze on you. “You think this is funny?”

“A little,” you grinned. “Knowing that you haven’t fucked anyone in so long and so you’re this desperate.”

“You haven’t either.” You can practically hear the pout in his tone.

And you kiss the pout. “At least I had some action.”

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“We already established that.” You shrug. “And it makes for better sex?”

Seungcheol is grumbling. 

You’re still laughing.

That is, until you feel his hand grip onto the side of your thigh, lifting and spreading you wide.

“You’ve got such a mouth on you,” Seungcheol clicked his tongue, brushing his fingers up your thigh. 

You shivered. “And you love that I do.”

“I can’t argue with that,” he admitted. His free hand grips onto the side of your face, a thumb tenderly swiping over your cheek. That same digit is then tenderly pushed past your rather welcoming mouth, pressing down on the pink, wet muscle. “It’s got other uses.”

It was your turn for your gaze to turn piercing.

Seungcheol chuckled and removed his thumb, but he’s still grasping at your face. “Now, will you please shut up and let me fuck you?”

Your face warmed but you grunted. “Crude.”

With another click of tongue, Seungcheol moves to cup his hand once more over your cunt, middle finger stroking languorously over your slit that has you choking. 

“Stop acting high and mighty when you’re this pathetically wet,” he crooned. “Tell me you don’t want me then I’ll stop right here.” The very tip of his finger slips inside you and you almost writhe. “Maybe I’ll call Chan out here for you if that’s what you want. Finish what you started with him.”

You swallowed hard. “N-No.”

His finger retreated. “‘No?’ ‘No’ what?”

A whine. “I don’t want Chan.”

A slow, sharp smile. “Then what do you want, doll?”

This fucking guy…

“You, you bastard,” you seethed. “I want you.”

“Now, was that so hard?” A laugh. “Though you could be a little nicer.”

“Not sure if you deserve it yet.”

“Right.”

The apprehensive, sarcastic tone he took made your anger flare a little brighter. Defiance, as it always was, was quick to encompass you, but now, it was quick to temper when you feel him prod at your entrance once more with something much girthier than a calloused finger.

You take Seungcheol’s lips in yours once more, swiftly swooping in just as your heart did and desperately expressing every ounce of annoyance and affection possible through this fervent kiss. Then Seungcheol wastes no time, sinking his length inside of you, your silken walls welcoming him with some resistance, yet embracing him nonetheless. A long, shameless moan is pulled right out your lungs and Seungcheol echoed it, sounding like the most immoral harmony to ever grace the planet. 

“Still tight,” Seungcheol lets out a breathy laugh. “You weren’t kidding about not sleeping with anyone since.”

“You thought I was lying?” You hissed. 

“Not at all,” he hummed, a kiss—gentle, so unlike the ones that came before—is placed on your sneering mouth. “It’s just nice to be reminded.”

The first motions were experimental, shallow thrusts with an extended pace which allowed you to adjust, to feel every inch and vein dragging against your walls. You moved against each other like it was natural—a sedulous tangle of limbs reaching for each other and swallowing each other up in this shared, rapturous desire. The intimacy was not lost even with the months of loathing each other, and even when the pace is gradually picked up, Seungcheol being so set in clattering your bones and engraving himself so deeply inside. You were quick on the uptake with a similar resolve, your hips undulating as you meet back in time with Seungcheol, the raucous sound of skin slapping skin bouncing off this confined space of his car.

As talkative you guys had been, no words seemed to find you for a while when you’re both so impossibly lost in each other; whatever fragments of worry for the booming party a few feet away or the surrounding slumbering neighborhood were lost to dust. Mouths found other ways to keep busy, Seungcheol’s own having mapped down until he’s burrowed in the juncture of your neck, licking and nipping at skin where your pulse thrums wildly underneath; yours, on the other hand, seemed to only know one word at the very least.

“Yes,” you breathed, then continued to breathe with every breath knocked right out of you with each piston of his hips, each slide easier than the last with how much you leak. 

And Seungcheol is well aware of it, if not for the slippery feel of you, the wet squelches were salient enough, and god, was it inebriating. 

“Yeah?” Seungcheol crooned, dragging the flat of his tongue up the side of your throat, wet and warm. “Did you miss this? Did you miss me?”

“So much,” you whimper, hands slipping themselves under his shirt for you to grab at his bare waist, to feel the tension of his muscles as he moves against you. “I’ve missed you so fucking much. So please don’t stop. Please, please, please.”

At your pitiful pleas, a grin both wide and crazy spreads across his face. Then, he’s grasping at your chin, forcing you to look up at his probably crazed expression when he says, “Who am I to deny what my beautiful doll wants?”

Though, even without your begging, Seungcheol wouldn’t dare think to. He doesn’t think he was even capable of it. Not when you feel as sinfully divine as you do. Not when you clenched around him like your life depended on it. Not when this was what he had been yearning for for months. And that desire is palpable when rationality slips from him as he fucks into you with a faculty of a mad man. A series of grunts and huffs of breath escapes past parted lips and meshes with the lewd squelches of his merciless drive into you. Even with the gradual building heat in his abdomen, he couldn’t rip his gaze off you, admiring every way your expression contorts into that of pleasure and stupor. And that pleasure and stupor is only greatly intensified when he’s easing into you shallowly once more, hitting directly onto the sensitive nerves at an ungodly pace that has you trembling under him just as much as he’s trembling above you. 

It should have been expected with the sheer amount of yearning he’s had, but the pleasure hit him hard all at once, he barely had time to warn you. It’s said with a stuttered breath, his thrusts more sloppy and imprecise, and it only takes a few more before his cock gives one valiant twitch and he’s finally spilling into you with a guttural moan, quickly muffled with your shoulder that he bites onto, earning a wail of your own. 

“Cheol,” you moan, your body quivering from the bliss of his warmth filling you up so suddenly. “Fuck, it’s so much. Oh my, god.” You could feel his fluids seeping right out of you as his hips turn slow and jerky in its movement. Yet, you take it upon yourself to find your own release, as well as to aid him in riding out his own with slow ruts up into him, the slide much smoother and wetter this time around. Sweat rolls down your body, clothing sticking uncomfortably to your own skin, but your thoughts are too overtaken by your own need and want to be disturbed by it. Then came Seungcheol’s brazen fingers gravitating to your clit and your vision whitened.

“Ngh, Cheol!” You cry, followed by delirious babbling of how good everything feels, how fucking good he feels.

Overstimulation teased at his senses, yet somehow Seungcheol still found it in himself to keep driving into you, albeit a little reckless and thoughtless. “Let it out, doll,” he breathes in your ear, tongue lapping at the outer shell. “Let go for me.”

A fucking magic trick, you thought humourously to yourself, as the muscles of your abdomen tense up and flare once those words are caress your ear. The heat spreading under your skin was a white hot flame, melting your insides to goo, blinding your sight. Your sanity is pulled so taut, back arched right off the leather seats and your head thrown so far back your neck strained. Then, you’re letting go just as he wanted, violent with a poorly stifled scream into your own palm.

Seungcheol makes a grab for your wrist, pulling it off you to hear your sweet noises, before he’s crashing his mouth on yours to swallow it down to taste the sweetness for himself. The last remainders of his release are still pouring into you when your own seeps out of you in copious amounts; he uses that sinful concoction, scooping it with the tips of his fingers only to bring it back onto your swollen clit, smearing it with drawn circles. 

You shudder, pawing weakly at his arm. “Cheol, please…”

He’s huffing a laugh against your lips and obliges, pulling his hand back and away just to place on the side of your thigh, thumbing over the skin.

“You did well, doll,” Seungcheol crooned, his free hand coming to hold your face for him to press a gentle kiss on your mouth. “My pretty doll, you always do so well.”

A part of you (pride) grumbled at his little display, but the sincerity now tainting his tone had you crumbling into him, reddened face buried in his shoulder.

“You’re an asshole,” you muttered, unable to help yourself by letting that sliver of pride slip out.

“I know,” and Seungcheol did sound like he did. There’s another kiss pressed on your temple this time. “I’m really sorry.”

A quiet falls on you both once more, but it was nothing like the ones that came before. There was comfort, a familiar ease, and if it weren’t for the fact that you both were in the stifling heat of Seungcheol’s car that you both caused, you might have slumbered away. But you basked in it, basked in Seungcheol’s warmth that you had not known (or refused to acknowledge) that you ached for all this time.

Would you come to know that ache again?

You give Seungcheol’s shoulder a slight nudge. “Cheol.”

Seungcheol hummed in question, low and soft.

“We need to clean up.”

“In a bit,” he groaned. “I just.. I just want to hold you for a bit more.”

Your pulse thrummed. “You can hold me later in the comfort of your own bedroom, but for now, let’s clean.”

There’s a grumble but Seungcheol eventually lets up, though not without a slow thrust made once more inside you.

You grip at his shoulder hard, swallowing down a groan. “What the fuck?”

“I just had to make sure it’s all in there,” Seungcheol said too casually, but you’re sure he’s grinning wide. “We don’t want it dripping out as we walk through a crowd of people, right?”

Your face burned in this darkness, but your silence was telling enough for Seungcheol to laugh.

Seungcheol helps you up, cleaning both you and himself as best as he could with some tissue he thankfully had stocked up in his car. Your feet wobble when it touches the ground again, and Seungcheol was quick to steady you with a firm arm wrapped around your waist.

“All good?” He asked as he began to lead you right back into the house where the party booms as loud as ever.

You hum a confirmation, legs weak but slowly regaining itself with each step.

Halfway to the entrance, Seungcheol comes to a slow halt to peer down at you, expression contemplative. You look up at him, expectant. 

There was no need for words to know the question that hangs above your heads; you both knew each other well enough that it went well beyond words. As for the answer…

“We’ll take it slow,” you said.

Seungcheol nodded. “I didn’t expect any other answer.”

You stay there for a moment, looking into each other’s agreeing gaze, yet still searching. Then, there’s a wisp of a smile from Seungcheol before he’s turning away. 

“I really hope Chan was joking about the house being laid to waste while I was gone,” grumbled Seungcheol, leading you again to where the music and chatters grow louder. “Not even sure where Jeonghan went either.”

“Maybe he went off to fuck somewhere too,” you joked.

Seungcheol laughed. “Jeonghan? No way. I think he’d have more manners at a party.”

You gave him an offended look. “So, we don’t?”

He didn’t miss a beat. “Absolutely not.”

You kept that gaze at him for a moment more, pointed and heavy, before breaking off into laughter of your own, bright and full. “A perfect pair, we are.”

Seungcheol smiled, his grip on your waist tighter. “We will be.” 

© jeonghantis. all rights reserved. do not re-publish, translate, plagiarise, edit any of my work on any other platform.

[sailorsoons]

On the Clock | (c.hs)

PAIRING: Vernon x f. reader

SUMMARY: Modern problems call for modern solutions, including naming a random stranger in the book store as your boyfriend to avoid an embarrassing encounter with your ex. The problem? The stranger is Vernon and he’s not supposed to be a stranger at all - he’s your coworker, and now everyone at the office - including your ex - thinks you’re dating. 

WC: 20,296

AU: Faking dating, Coworkers to Lovers, Romcom

GENRE: Smut, some fluff and crack

RATING: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging in and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately.

WARNINGS: Reader has some insecurity about how her working hard is perceived, some ranting about Being A Girlboss, a little bit of inner angst, my bad attempts at humor, reader’s ex boyfriend SUCKS sorry to all the Minho’s of the world I named him after, explicit language, some minor commentary on power dynamics, Star Wars Lore, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex (never do this), oral (f. receiving), nipple play, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, a little bit of a handjob, some cum eating if you squint, Vernon was supposed to be a freak but I made him soft instead, mutual pining.

A/N: Thank you to @camandemstudios for allowing me to be a part of the Lonely Hearts Collab. I’m honored to be among such amazing writers and I cannot wait to see what everyone else wrote. 

A/N 2: Thank you to the (w)hor(e)anghae squad @daechwitatamic @eoieopda and @jihopesjoint for beta reading this and letting me blind pass it over so I wouldn’t have to read it again because I don’t like it :)  

MASTERLIST | PERMANENT TAG LIST | ASK | LONELY HEARTS CAFE COLLAB

WHOSOEVER SLAYETH CAIN SHALL SUFFER TENFOLD... OR WHATEVER IT IS THAT THE BIBLE SAYS. You haven’t slayed Cain and you’re not really sure you believe in anything in the Bible, but you’re certainly suffering sevenfold. Eightfold. Ninefold. 

Sevenfold had been earlier this morning when you dropped your glass of coffee on the ground, shattering your favorite cup and staining your white tile. Several Clorox wipes later, there is still brown stuck to the grout, looking a bit like you had an unseemly accident in the middle of your kitchen. 

Eightfold had been when you decided to fix your weekend by heading to the bookstore. Surely purchasing books that you were going to let sit on your shelf months before reading would fix your day - until someone rear-ended you in the parking lot, leaving a good dent and an apologetic exchanging of numbers and insurance information.

Ninefold comes when you least expect it, standing in the aisle with a stack of books in your hand, eyes flickering over the different titles and ornate covers. You already feel better than you had this morning. The smell of paper, the whisper of turning pages, and the hum of the cafe brewing coffee in the distance immediately puts you at ease. 

You swear nothing can put a damper on a good hour spent between shelves - until ninefold walks around the aisle corner. 

The stack of books in your arm nearly drops to the ground when you see your ex-boyfriend hand-in-hand with his new girlfriend. You wheel around so fast you slam into the person behind you, which does knock all the books from your hands onto the floor. 

A hissed curse leaves your lips followed by a quick apology. You drop to your knees, picking the books up as quickly as you can. The dude you’ve collided with has also dropped his books, the amalgamation of your soon-to-be-purchases making it more difficult for you to pick up your shit and leave the scene before Minho sees you. 

Minho says your name, surprised. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, fingers going rigid on the stack of books in your hand. You shoot to your feet and spin around, breathless as you come face to face with Minho and the new girlfriend that you definitely didn’t look up on social media a few weeks ago. “Hi, Minho.” 

“Wow, it’s nice to see you not in the marketing department for once.” 

“Well, I work there…” You offer a bit sharply, tapering to adjust to a nicer tone. “Hence, you know - finding me there.” 

“I meant you rarely leave there.” He laughs and you feign a grin, eyes flickering over to the rosy-cheeked and very glossy-haired girl on your ex’s arm.

Good for her, you think. I wonder what hair product she uses. 

“This is Mina.”

“Mina?” You ask, sticking your hand out as you shuffle your books awkwardly to the crook over your elbow. She smiles - god she has good teeth - and shakes your hand. “Mina and… Minho. Easy to remember.” 

“It’s nice to meet you. Minho tells me you’re the only ex he’s ever left things on good terms with.” 

Your eye twitches. 

Good terms was a serviceable way to put it, you suppose. Sure, there had been no fighting or infidelity or long distance that put a strain on your relationship. In fact, you hadn’t been aware that there was a strain on your relationship until Minho was sitting you down on his couch and letting you know that it just wasn’t working for him anymore. 

That had been confusing. You hadn’t asked any questions though, opting to sit and stare at him while clenching your teeth, nodding along while he explained that your inability to leave work at work and enjoy home while at home was wearing down on him. 

You’re not saving lives, he’d said. He had been earnest too, which is the crux of it. You’re in marketing. You need to take a breather. 

As if he didn’t come home in a bad mood after shitty sales calls all day, as if he wasn’t stressed when he didn’t hit quota, or didn’t complain about how long the department meeting went - you know. You were there, too. 

So sure, you were on good terms. But only one of you seemed to have been unhappy with where things were going, and only one of you seems to have moved on to someone with really good hair genes and great dental hygiene. 

Your tongue runs over your teeth, suddenly worried that you’d forgotten to brush them this morning. 

“Yeah,” you agree, clearing your throat and choking a bite. “Good terms are always the goodest - best way to end things.” 

“He’s really hopeful you’ll find someone,” she sighs, looking up at him dreamily. “He’s always wanted the best for you.” 

A vein bursts in your head. Well- no. You wish the vein you feel throbbing in your head would burst and knock you out so you’d no longer have to suffer through this ninefold moment of suffering. Perhaps, even, a very attractive medic with glossy hair and good teeth could come save you and fall in love at first sight. 

The genuine way that Minho and Mina look at you tells you that they’re serious, that they see you as something that deserves love too. Said in a cooing voice, said patronizingly, said with a pat on the head and a firm pout. 

You turn with your free hand, grabbing the sleeve of the man who is hovering behind you and pull him over to you, grin growing sevenfold. Eightfold. 

“No need to worry,” you assure them. “My boyfriend is right here! The stars really did align for me, just like you hoped and dreamed.”

Your seconds-old-star-crossed-lover looks entirely startled, looking between you, Minho and Mina. His books are cradled against his chest, his brown eyes wide. He’s actually incredibly cute, his glasses a little askewand his brown hair a little unruly. 

“You’re dating Vernon?” 

You look at Minho, blank. “What?” 

Minho looks at your Very Real Boyfriend. “You’re dating Vernon? From IT?” 

Ninefold, meet Tenfold. 

“Of course,” you answer slowly, looking at your partner of now thirty seconds. “I am dating Vernon… from IT.” 

Vernon (from IT) looks like he would rather be anywhere else than standing in the middle of the fantasy novel aisle with you at a bookstore, your nails digging tighter into his sleeve and your crazy eyes telling him to get with the program. 

Vernon (from IT) clears his throat and nods, looking over at Minho. “Yeah. Hey, Minho.” 

“Wow. This is really unexpected.”

“It sure is.”

Your nails dig in harder and Vernon (from IT) tries to pull away from you but you step closer, leaning toward him while flashing Minho and Mina a smile. “Anyway, no need to worry about me finding a relationship. I am very happy.” 

“Figures you found someone at work again.” He laughs, but the comment lands like a blow. You feel yourself flinch, smile going too tight. “You really don’t leave enough to find anyone else, huh?” 

Vernon (from IT) seems to notice, shifting toward you to slide his arm around your waist. The move startles you, drawing your attention to his face. He really is pretty this up close, his lips the perfect shade of bubblegum pink, his cheekbones high and hidden beneath the rim of his glasses, the tangy scent of citrus on his clothes. 

“I like women who work really hard,” Vernon (from IT) assures Minho. “I’ll never get tired of resetting her password over and over again because she loses all her sticky notes everytime the cleaning crew comes through.” 

If Minho senses the shift, he doesn’t let on. He’s never been great at social cues anyway, which is what makes him a decent salesman. Still, you’re eager to get out of their way and the glare of Mina’s shiny hair. 

“Well,” You state. “We have to get going.”

“For sure. It was nice seeing you outside of work!” 

With a final nod, Vernon (from IT) tugs on your waist. You both navigate awkwardly down the aisle, steps not quite in time and hips bumping. It’s uncomfortable and uncoordinated, but as soon as you’re around the aisle and away from your encounter, the two of you separate. 

Vernon (from IT) looks anywhere but you. His cheeks are tinted pink as he looks up at the ceiling, shifting from foot to foot while you regain all your books in your arm. Embarrassment and gratitude both well up inside of you, one beating the other out.

“I am really sorry,” you blurt, voice a little loud. The people around you startle and you lower your pitch when Vernon (from IT) looks at you, chewing on his lip. “Thank you - I don’t even know how to say thank you for doing that.”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Your cheeks heat. “Right.”

“Happy to help, though. You can thank me by swapping books with me, though.”

“What?”

He gestures to your books. “I was standing behind you because you grabbed my books after you ran into me.” 

Oh. Right. You look down at the pile of books in your hand and see a few titles that you own, but did not plan on buying today. You divest yourself of his selections, taking the ones he’d collected off the ground from there. 

“So you really work in IT?”

He snorts. The sound is… a little off. You glance up at him, but his face gives away nothing. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know.”

His smile is off, too. “I know.” 

You’re unsure how to reply to that, but you’re also uneager to let him go, suddenly. Vernon (from IT) stands there for a second, lips pressed in a firm line and studying you. He really is beautiful, the light hitting his eyes in a way that turns them molten gold and-

“Alright well,” he interrupts your thoughts. “See you later or something.” 

The urge to stop him strikes you, your mouth opening and closing. No words come out. You don’t know what to say - or why you want to stop him, just that you do. He walks toward the front of the store to purchase his books, leaving you standing in the middle of the store and wishing you’d met Vernon (from IT) under different circumstances. 

-

Routine is important to you, especially during the weekdays. Wake up, snooze your alarm for at least fifteen minutes, get up when the second one goes off. Groan as you feel every single joint in your body pop after sitting up in bed. Wonder if you really need a corporate job to pay your bills (decide the answer is yes), and get up to feed the furious beast yowling from the bed. 

The ferocious beast in question has a routine as well. Perhaps not as important as yours, the cat knows when he’s supposed to be fed and when it’s even a minute past feeding time. Halloween takes his meals very seriously, which you respect. 

Your morning continues with the monotonous rhythm you’ve learned to appreciate: make coffee, shuffle back to your room into the ensuite bathroom for skin care, start your morning proper. The only thing that isn’t the same thing every morning is your playlist and your outfit of choice, leading both items up to fate to decide. 

A hint of spring is in the air when you step outside. It’s that kind of sunny day with a cool breeze that promises longer days of sun ahead, despite still being brisk in the morning and biting when the sun sets. 

Mornings during the days that hang between winter and spring are your favorite. You roll the windows down a little on your drive to work, fingers drumming against the steering wheel as you crawl along with all the other commuters. 

Buildings shoot up toward the sky on either side of you. Dozens of banks, private firms, buildings with multiple different businesses and food courts become your entire world as you navigate to the parking garage. It’s already full of cars, but you get special parking.

Well - special as of your promotion just a few weeks ago. The designated parking spot and title bump was all that had come with the promotion, though, much to your dismay. 

Still. You’d worked for this particular publishing house in the marketing department for close to a decade now. You weren’t quite as far up the ladder as you wanted to be, but you were trying to get there little by little. 

So close. No cigar. 

The elevator of the parking garage opens to reveal other office workers already filling the mirror-walled space. You step in as everyone makes room, clutching their bags and briefcases a little closer. You see Mingyu from creative and flash him a polite grin, which is answered with a bright one of his own and a small wave.

When the people not associated with your company shuffle off on other floors, Mingyu slides over closer to you. He’s one of the many designers in the art department, and definitely several rungs below your position, but you started the company at the same time together.

“How was your weekend?” He asks, wagging his brows up and down. 

You frown. His questions suggests there’s something salacious to your wild weekend spent reading books with Halloween, but you don’t think burning the bagel you ate for girl dinner or staying in the same shirt for forty-eight hours straight is what he’s looking for. 

“It was fine?” It comes out as a question. “How was yours?” 

“Hm. It was good. We went out to catch the big game. Seokmin got so drunk he vomited, and Vernon won all of the bets we placed before.” 

Mingyu leans forward, looking at you like you’re supposed to understand something. You don’t get it, looking him up and down with a pinched brow. 

“That’s nice?” Again, it comes out as a question. “Not for Seokmin, I guess.” 

His eyes narrow. Pin you to your spot against the elevator wall.

Then the elevator dings, signalling that you’re at his floor. Creative is an entire level down from marketing, all dim lights and glowing screens for the designers hard at work. Mingyu gets off, still looking suspicious as the elevator doors close and you shoot up another floor. 

Instead of focusing on it, you shrug it off. Mingyu has a penchant for being weird - a creative thing, in your opinion. As soon as the elevator door opens, his behavior is long forgotten as you slip into work mode. 

Everyone greets you with a polite smile or small wave on the marketing floor. The main office is filled with grey-walled cubicles, employees popping up to peer over walls with mugs of coffee and protein shakes and breakfast items as they ask their neighbors how the weekend was. 

A glass wall in the far back denotes the executive and director offices. You head for the one in the back, right corner. Instead of turning on your lights, you let the natural lighting from the floor-to-ceiling windows filter in, keeping the ambiance muted and relaxing. The only additional lights you flick on are the monitor light at your desk and a small salt lamp wedged between the books on one of the many shelves behind you. 

Your office is still slowly being decorated. You’d only moved in after your recent promotion, and it’s still bare of personalization, save for the salt lamp and a few things you’d moved in from your cubicle. 

And the coffee machine - your own private, blessed coffee machine in the corner on a small bar cart. That might be your favorite thing about your office. You like your coworkers - for the most part, anyway - but being able to bury yourself in your work without having to interact with all of them every time you want coffee is nice. 

Sitting down, you roll your shoulders. When your monitor flashes to life, you see the number of emails in your inbox and try not to groan out loud. You’re thrilled to be the new Senior Director of Marketing, but you’ve gone and made the mistake of becoming too important at work, most things unable to move forward without you playing some part in it.

In theory, that was one of the reasons Minho had broken up with you in the first place. Too buried in work, too many late nights at the office, too many dates or movie nights interrupted by the blue glow of your phone screen on your face while you answer urgent emails. 

The thing is - you don’t mind. It doesn’t bother you to pause and send a quick email, or to stay late and help get something launched. You like the intricacies of being a problem solver, and with as fast as your company is growing and publishing new titles, you’ve got challenge after challenge ahead of you. 

It’s easy to fall into the monotony of answering emails, joining virtual meetings and striking your pen through your to-do list. It fills three pages, but it feels good to cross something off, even if you’ve only completed two things. 

By lunchtime, someone is knocking on your window. You look up, surprised to see Seungkwan sticking his head in. He’s the Manager of Digital Marketing and Social Media and he’s dubbed himself as your assistant. 

Other duties as assigned, he always jokes, but you are thankful for him. 

“You have to eat,” he reminds you in a singsong voice, crossing his arms over his chest. His glasses are pushed up into his blonde hair. “Maybe you can take me to lunch and divulge every detail about your new romance.” 

That makes you sputter. “My what?” 

Looking like the cat that ate the canary, Seungkwan slips into your office, clapping his hands together. He sits on the edge of the couch in front of your desk, bounding with energy. 

“Come on,” he whispers, looking at you earnestly. “Everyone knows - you don’t have to keep it a secret anymore!”

“Keep what a secret?” 

He rolls his eyes. “You’re dating Vernon!”

You stare. “Who?” 

“Vernon! From IT!” 

It comes back in tunnel vision. Ninefold meeting tenfold, Minho and Glossy Hair Mina, Vernon (from IT). Suddenly you’re hot all over, feel it creeping up your neck and blooming across your cheeks. You clear your throat, leaning back in your chair as your fingers reach for your water. 

“I’m - oh!” You escape answering for a second by gulping down copious amounts of water, trying to cool the panic that is licking flames up your skin. “Right. Vernon… from IT.” 

“Honestly, he’s cute.”

“Ha. Ha. Yes. Um. Yeah.”

“You’re so cute when you’re flustered. How long have you been dating?”

“Uhh very new. Yes. Super new. I’m sorry - how did you hear about this?” 

“Mingyu told me, but Soonyoung told him and Joshua in sales told Soonyoung because Minho told the Always Closing group chat.” 

“The what?”

He sighs. “Ugh, do you keep up with anything? The sales floor has a group chat. It’s where Soonyoung gets all his tea because he and Joshua room together.” 

“Who the fuck is Joshua?” 

Seungkwan stares. “It is a wonder you even know who Vernon is. I swear you don’t know people you’ve worked with for years.” A thought seems to strike him and he gasps. “Oh my god is that why you’re always going to him for your fucked up passwords?” 

Something Vernon said comes back to you vaguely. Something about forgotten passwords when the cleaning crew throws out your sticky notes. Of course, no one would throw out your sticky notes if you weren’t dropping them all over the floor, but that’s neither here nor there. 

Bolting from your seat, you startle Seungkwan, whose brows disappear in his hairline as he stares up at you.

“Actually, I can’t do lunch today.”

He sighs. “Boss, you have to eat.”

“I am! I am going to lunch with my…. Vernon from IT.”

“Oooo.” He leans back, shaking his head and grinning at you. “Go on then. Make sure you wrap it before-”

“If you finish that sentence I will revoke your privilege to my coffee cart.” 

Seungkwan’s grin only gets wider. “Enjoy, boss.” 

In a flurry, you leave your office. Eyes follow you as you go and suddenly you’re unsure if people are looking at you because you’re walking so fast that you’re almost running, or if it’s because they think you’re dating Vernon). 

Your finger nearly breaks as you slam the button over and over again to shoot a few floors down. It doesn’t make the elevator go any faster. When the doors finally close and you begin to descend, you turn to the mirror walls and panic, tucking stray pieces of hair back into place and trying to fix the mascara smudges from staring at your screen for four straight hours.

A knot forms in your stomach. You press your damp palms against your dress pants, wiping viciously to try and keep the moisture at bay. When the elevator dings and the doors open to the silent hum of the IT department, you think you might vomit.

Unlike the marketing floor, no heads turn as you go. You try to maintain a normal pace this time, marching down the rows of cubicles before you realize you have no idea where Vernon sits. You pause awkwardly, standing on your tiptoes to try and see over the walls of cubicles to spot him.

“Can I help you?” A man sticks his head out of his cubicle, his headphones around his neck. He looks you up and down critically. “You’ll have to have proof of submitting a ticket before-”

“Vernon,” you interrupt him. “Vernon from IT? Where does he sit?” 

For a second, the guy narrows his eyes. Then a lightbulb seems to go off and he grins, leaning back in his chair. He looks far too pleased with himself, and there’s something oily and slick you don’t like about his gaze. “You’re her.” 

“I’m a senior director, yes.” 

That changes his tune immediately. He sits up, clearing his throat. “To the back on the left.” 

“Thanks.”

Following his lead, you pass by several empty cubicles, everyone seemingly at lunch. You take the corner as instructed and find a handful of men sitting in the same cubicle, one sitting atop a desk and swinging his legs, another leaning against the cubicle wall, and the last one sitting in the seat.

The one sitting in the seat is the quarry you seek, his eyes going wide when he sees you storming toward him. He goes rigid in his seat, clearing his throat and slapping the leg of the man sitting atop his desk. He kicks at Vernon before spotting you and immediately jumping down, straightening his shirt. 

Nervous energy crackles as all three sets of eyes settle on you. You stop right in front of his cubicle, trying to put on your bravest smile. 

“Hi?” Vernon asks, looking at the two men on either side of him. “Did you forget your password again?”

“What? No. I don’t do it that often.” He looks unsure, brows raised behind his glasses. You huff, putting  your hands on your hips. “Okay, I forget it sometimes. But no, that isn’t why I’m here.”

“Does your software need updating?”

“No, I-”

“Oh. I did forget to give Seungkwan that new phone he asked for on behalf of the social team. It came in last week - I’ll finish setting it up and-”

“Lunch!” You all but yell, startling all three men. “I came here for lunch.”

There’s a long pause. Vernon’s coworkers look like they’d rather be anywhere else than trapped by you. You ignore them in favor of a quick study of Vernon. He’s in dress pants and a button down shirt that is untucked and a little wrinkled. It’s a far cry from the casual way he was dressed at the bookstore, but it’s still not totally work appropriate. 

Still he pulls it off. There’s something casual and cool about it, aloof in a way that still looks good. His hair is even styled neatly, though a brown lock falls over his eyebrow as he leans forward and asks, “Lunch? The cafeteria is on the first floor.”

The man who had been sitting on his desk kicks him. “She’s asking you to go to lunch, dude.” 

“She’s not-” Vernon pauses and looks at you. “Are you asking me to go to lunch?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Your patience narrows to a tight smile, your words pinched between your teeth, “Because that’s what loving girlfriends do, sweetie.” 

The words land and have an immediate effect. Vernon flushes from the neck up, mouth opening and closing as he presses his palms against his thigh. The man who kicked him snickers and tries to hide it with a thinly veiled cough.

Your gaze narrows and he notices you watching, clearing his throat to stretch his hand toward you. “I’m Chan. It’s nice to meet… Vernon’s girlfriend?” 

You shake his head and say nothing, eyes drifting to the man leaning against the wall. He gives you a small salute. “Seokmin.”

“Oh.” You blink. “The puker?” 

His charming smile drops immediately as he looks at Vernon, smacking him on the shoulder. “You told her about that?”

“I didn’t tell her anything.” Vernon stands, shrugging away from both of his friends’ wandering eyes. “Sure, sweetie,” he answers you, giving you a plastic grin. “It’s your treat this week, right? At that very nice, very expensive steakhouse down the block.”

There’s a glimmer in his eyes that tells you Vernon will only play along if it’s by his rules. You’re at a disadvantage, so you grin and nod, willing to go by his rules for now. “That’s so right, darling. Let’s go.”

“Enjoy lunch!” Chan calls behind you as Vernon shuffles behind you, quickly trying to tuck his shirt. “Don’t do anything I-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” Vernon warns, quickening his step to match yours. “Sorry about him.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got my own version of him sitting in my office.” 

The elevator ride down to the first floor and the walk out onto the busy street is silent. It’s not the comfortable, easy silence you might have with Seungkwan or Mingyu - if Mingyu could wrap his head around silence. It's awkwardly silent, both of you looking anywhere but one another. 

You don’t know where you’re going, but Vernon leads you to a Michelin steakhouse down the block, true to his word. You glare at him when you step into the dark entryway where a host with hair as glossy as Mina’s greets you. 

“Two?” You both nod and she grins. “Right this way.”

Vernon follows her first, shuffling behind her as she leads the two of you into the dining room proper. It’s a beautiful establishment with lacquered floors, rich wooden tables draped with fine tablecloths and the kind of glassware that looks like real crystal. 

When you both sit down with menus in hand, the hostess leaves you and you lean forward, hissing, “How much money do you think I make?”

“More than I do in IT,” Vernon answers breezily, eyes roving the menu. For a second, his gaze flickers to meet yours over the top of the menu. It’s the first time he’s really looked at you since you marched into his office. “Consider it an apology meal for the mess you’ve got us in.”

“Hey! You played along?” 

“You’re right, I guess I could have just super embarrassed you in front of your ex-boyfriend. That would have been very polite of me.” 

That stumps you. You open and close your mouth, feeling a bit like a fish. You suppose that’s fair - what was Vernon supposed to do when you’d grabbed him in the middle of a bookstore and staked your claim? 

Sighing, you lean back as your server gives you a moment of respite, filling your glasses with water and going over the specials. When they leave, you grab your glass and take several gulps of water, trying to cool your head. 

It only works a little.

“I didn’t know Minho was going to tell the entire world.” 

“Really? Minho has the biggest mouth at this company. You should see his Teams messages.”

“You can do that?” 

“On the clock?” He asks. When you shake your head, assuring it stays between you, he nods. “Yeah, we can see everything you do.”  

“Oh.” You think of all the terrible things you’ve searched on your work computer like how to get over a breakup and how to tell if my ex still likes me. “Anyway, I didn’t know he was going to say anything.” 

The server returns to take your orders. You order some sort of steak salad at random while Vernon orders something blessedly modest. As the server parts ways, Vernon leans back in his chair and looks at you again, expression unreadable. 

“Well,” he eventually says. “No harm done once you tell everyone we’re not dating.”

“Once I what?” 

“Well you’ll have to-”

“No way.”

“What?” 

“Do you know how embarrassing that would be?” 

He raises a brow. “More embarrassing than grabbing some dude in the bookstore and claiming he’s your boyfriend.” 

The air leaves your lungs and you melt into the seat, your misery showing. “I already said sorry.” 

“There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Just tell everyone you broke up with me.” 

You snort. “No one would believe that.” 

“Why?” 

Instead of answering him immediately, you busy yourself unraveling silverware. It’s a hard question to answer, not because you don’t know the answer but because you don’t want to tell him. Vernon is quiet, though. Patient. 

He doesn’t press you for an answer, happy to wait you out until you’ve folded your napkin and placed it on your lap, and once again drained the rest of your water. It does nothing for your nerves as you fixate on a spot atop the table. 

“I don’t… date.” 

“You dated Minho.”

“Yeah. That’s uh… it. It’s kind of a running joke that I am undateable.”

He frowns at that. “Respectfully, I find that incredibly hard to believe.” 

“Thanks. I think.” You pick at a string in the tablecloth. “Anyway, no one would buy that I ended the first relationship I’ve had since Minho. I didn’t even end the last one and sort of clung to it in a way that was sort of embarrassing.” 

“I see.”

You’re unsure if he really does. When Minho had broken up with you, you’d attempt to make arguments to keep him around. Offered less work hours, even said you’d go to therapy to talk about your insane need for success. He hadn’t wanted any of it, and you’d eventually realized that he just… didn’t want you. 

They never did, when people realized what dating you entails. Everyone wants a woman who works hard. They like the illusion of it, the woman who gets up early in the morning and goes to workout before going to her corporate job and girl bossing all day long. They desire the woman who dresses fashionably, who wears designer tags and commands a room all day before coming home to make an effortless dinner followed by a luxurious night routine. 

And you get it. You want to be that too. But the truth is most days you wake up past your alarm and rush to the office wearing shoes that don’t match, and sometimes you come home so late and burned out from your job that you eat a handful of shredded cheese over the sink with a stick of beef jerky, only to do it all again the next day.

That wasn’t what anyone wanted. At least, not in your experience. 

“Anyway,” you clear your throat. “You’re right, or whatever. I should just tell them I lied. I’ve given worse news. Just you know - less personal.” 

For a few minutes, Vernon is quiet. You don’t look up to meet his gaze. Instead you watch the ice cubes in your glass melt, little beads of condensation zigzagging down the curve of your glass. 

A sigh makes you look up at Vernon. “What if we dated for like a month or something?” 

“What?”

“I don’t mean really date,” he offers quickly, sensing your surprise. For some reason, that stings a little. You swallow it down past the knot forming in your throat. “It’ll get people off your back or whatever and we can just mutually end things.” 

“Really? You’d do that.” 

He shrugs a shoulder. “I guess, yeah.”

“You can break up with me,” you promise eagerly, leaning forward with the new promise of a solution to your problem. “Everyone will believe it. Just say I work too much and I’m too obsessed with my career.” 

An uneasy gaze flickers in Vernon’s eyes. “It can be mutual,” he says firmly. “That way it ends nicely.”

“Fine. Everyone will think one thing anyway, you’ll get out without a scratch, trust me. Are you sure you’re willing to do this? I can… suck it up and tell everyone I made it up.”

“Do you really want to?” 

“No,” you admit.

“Then it’s settled.” He shrugs, heaving a heavy sigh. “I’ll give you a month and then we can mutually end things.” 

Sticking your hand over the table, you offer it for Vernon to shake. His mouth twitches a little as he smiles, leaning forward to take your hand. His is warm and softer than you imagined, enveloping yours firmly as he shakes. 

“Deal,” you smile, feeling a glimmer of hope. 

Just like that, Vernon (from IT) becomes Vernon (your boyfriend). 

Sort of.

-

Vernon doesn’t consider himself anxious. He’s never really dealt with anxiety, and there are only a few things that can make him nervous in the world. The few times he remembers being nervous were when he was in a bidding war for a limited edition Millenium Falcon model, in line at a meet-and-greet for his favorite band when he was sixteen, and when he lost his virginity to Carley Waters in his sophomore year of college. 

He’d won the bidding war and managed to not sound like an idiot meeting his idols, but he definitely came immediately after putting his dick inside Carley. Two out of three were pretty good odds, all things considered. 

Vernon is more nervous than all three of those events combined as he checks himself in the mirror for the millionth time. Usually, he doesn’t really think twice about what he wears to the bar on the weekend. He has fifteen of the same shirt in the same colors, and his jeans all look the same, even though he thinks they’re different. 

Now, though, he has the added element of you. He cannot recall a single time that you’ve ever agreed to go out with your work friends - and to your surprise, not his, you do have the same work friends - but tonight is different. 

Tonight, you’re supposed to be dating. 

It’s weird. Chan and Seokmin agree it’s weird. He keeps no secrets from them and had already told them about the encounter at the bookstore. They’ve sworn themselves to secrecy, though Vernon cannot fathom how they just go with it. 

She’s really hot, Chan had said after a few sips of beer. Fuck it, right? 

She’s the third most executive person in marketing, Seokmin warned. Be careful. 

Both are true. Vernon had acknowledged Chan’s point the first time he’d seen you in Information Technology a little over two years ago. You’d been dating Minho then and entirely untouchable - still are, kind of - and Vernon had been the only person at the office early enough to help you out. He’d been new then, and often came in the earliest to get started on the overload of tasks he was always given as the junior employee. 

Even then, Vernon thought you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen. Sure, you had on mismatched shoes and there was a breathy chaos to you that would probably stress most people out, but he sort of liked it. Thought that it was different in a good way, and spoke to the sort of person who worked really hard and didn’t fake their way through the day. 

Vernon had realized Seokmin's point right after he’d learned Chan’s. As soon as he helped you login to your computer, he’d realized you were a Senior Manager of Marketing. Not a huge title in a company so big, but high enough that Vernon thought twice about his attraction to you. 

Now, both of their points are moot. You’re still attractive but that doesn’t really change the situation - makes it harder, even. Vernon had never really dreamed of an actual relationship with you and now that he’s found himself in a fake one, he’s not really sure what to do with the acknowledgement that he’s attracted to you. 

Worse is that he doesn’t actually know if he’s allowed to date you. Vernon is a senior coordinator in the IT department and you’re a senior director. Perhaps not in his department or directly overseeing him, but it’s a high enough position that Sekomin is right - it could mean trouble if this goes poorly. 

So why the fuck did he offer to fake date you for a month? 

As someone in Information Technology, most people think Vernon is smart. He doesn’t consider himself to be above average intelligence, and as he slides his sneakers on his feet to go pick you up for a night out, he thinks everyone is wrong about him - he’s fucking stupid.

Looking in the mirror one more time, Vernon decides it’s as good as it’s ever going to get. Jeans, a black shirt and a hat facing backward is all he really knows how to style. He shoves his keys in his pocket, a tiny vial of contact solution just in case, and grabs his phone as he heads out the door. 

Your apartment complex isn’t that far from his. He finds it with ease, surprised that you don’t live in one of those high-rise apartments that all the other executives live in. The apartment is pretty modest with only three floors and rows of respectable Toyota Camrys and Honda Civics. 

When he spots you coming down the stairs, his traitorous heart does that same little staccato it had last weekend when he saw you at the bookstore. He hadn’t expected to run into you outside of work and only panicked for a split second before he realized that you didn’t recognize him. 

And then you’d called him your boyfriend. 

Recovering from the memory of it, Vernon stares as you open the door to his car, flashing a tight smile as you slide in. He doesn’t know what he thought you might wear on the weekend, but he’s surprised to see you in jeans, a black form-fitted shirt tucked in, and a simple purse on your arm. 

“What?” You ask, a little breathless. He sees the sticky shine of lipgloss on your mouth and squeezes the wheel, fighting the urge to lean over and taste it. 

Insane, he thinks as he puts the car in gear. He’s gone insane. 

“Nothing. I guess I just thought you’d live somewhere nicer.” 

“Oh.”

Your shift in tone makes him realize how it sounded. “Sorry - not like that. I thought it would be somewhere really fancy. You’re a senior director and all that.” 

“I only got promoted a few weeks ago. And it was not a pay raise, trust me.” 

“Seriously?” You glance sidelong at him, pausing like you’ve said something you shouldn’t. His lips twitch and he says, “Not on the clock.”

That gets you to grin, leaning back into the passenger seat. “Only came with an office and title bump. I was already doing all the work of a senior director so they felt like they needed to bump my title to protect themselves, I think.”

“That’s kind of shitty.”

You hum. “Is it like that in IT?” 

“I think it’s like that anywhere.”

“Good point.” 

A comfortable silence falls over the car. It’s not at all like the awkward, stilted lunch the two of you had at the beginning of the week. He had been sweating through his shirt that time around, though you didn’t seem to notice. He’d been a little angry with you too, for getting the both of you into this mess. 

But… it had been his idea to help you save face. He didn’t have to. He didn’t owe you anything, and he believes you when you say you would come clean and admit you lied through your teeth. Maybe that’s why he offered to help anyway, your willingness to swallow the pain of embarrassment to relieve him of the facade. 

Library is a hole in the wall bar that Vernon and his friends from work like to go to on Saturday nights. It’s sort of a funny joke, a bunch of professionals from the publishing industry getting drunk and eating shitty bar food in a place named for the very buildings they dedicate their life to, in a weird, roundabout, mathematical way. 

Vernon has friends outside of work that come too, but tonight it’s just the usual crowd: Chan, Seokmin and Seokmin’s girlfriend, Mingyu and Soonyoung from creative, and some of the people from the sales team. The sales team is only there by virtue of Joshua, who is the only person from sales Vernon remotely tolerates. 

Vernon isn’t exactly sure what a sales team does at a publishing company anyway. 

When Vernon parks, he sees you take a deep breath. He averts his eyes, feeling like he’s intruding on a moment before you brace yourself and get out of the car suddenly. He makes a noise and panics to follow you. You’re already plunging ahead like you’re storming into battle, and perhaps in your mind you are.

He jogs to catch up. “Wait!” 

You stop, turning to face him with a dubious expression. “What?”

“We should walk in together.”

“Oh.” You blink. It’s a bit cute but Vernon shoves that down. “You’re right. Sorry. I sort of… set my mind to the task and forgot.”

“You can’t approach this like you approach work.”

“I can’t?”

He laughs. “No. Relationships aren’t jobs - so a fake one isn’t either. You have to try and appear like this is natural. If you come in all to-do list and checkmarking the boxes, it’s going to look weird.” 

“Oh.” 

The confidence you had a second before deflates. He feels a little guilty, reaching out to take your hand before he realizes what he’s doing. Your hands are cold in his but he doesn’t mind, wrapping his fingers in yours as you stare at him like he’s grown three heads.

Maybe he has. 

“We should walk in together. Maybe holding hands.” 

“Right.” You lick your lips and he tries to give you a smile more confident than what he’s feeling. His heart is hammering in his chest, both at the way your hand squeezes his nervously and at the preposterousness of it all. “You’re kind of good at this.” 

“I just have a different perspective.”

“The perspective of someone who knows how to date versus… whatever I am.” 

He hears the joke in your tone so he lets himself laugh a little. He starts walking, tugging you next to him. “Not exactly. I just watch a lot of movies, including romances.” 

“Really? What’s your favorite one?” 

“Uhhh.” He thinks about it as you both approach the door. He doesn’t answer for a second while he flashes the security outside his ID. “I really like The Proposal. With Sandra Bullock.” 

Instead the bar is filled with modern music at a reasonable level and small, wooden tables with chipped tops. There is nothing about the bar that actually looks like a library, save the single shelf shoved in the corner with beat up comic books and an insane amount of hentai that Soonyoung put there. 

“You mean the one where the boss fake dates her employee… and they work at a publishing company?” 

As soon as you ask the question, Vernon realizes the irony. He looks at you with a wide gaze, pausing at the entrance to look at you. Your mouth folds on itself, trying not to laugh as you too realize the irony of the movie. 

“Yeah, so that’s weird I guess,” he admits. He tugs on your hand. “Come on, we always sit in the back.”

You follow him wordlessly. The crowd isn’t big inside, but there are enough people that you have to shuffle a little closer to him. He catches the scent of your perfume - it smells like sweet tobacco and vanilla, something that is subtle with a little bit of spice. 

Turning around the corner of the bar, you see a wall entirely taken by booths with pool tables in the open space. Mingyu and Seokmin’s girlfriend are already fighting over the felted green as she points a pool cue at him, threatening. Seokmin is lounging in one of the booths, watching on with a dopey grin that makes Vernon roll his eyes.

Everyone else sits in in a variety of booths, an entire corner dedicated to the dozen or so of them who have made this their home for the last two years. Vernon keeps you close, feeling his hands go clammy when all the eyes turn to the two of you. Despite the rumor having spread far and wide, it’s clear that surprise ripples through the crowd at seeing evidence of your relationship. 

The fake one, that is. Naturally. 

Instead of going directly to the safety - or danger, in this case - of his friends, Vernon heads to the bar. He needs to take the edge off immediately, though he knows he can’t get too crazy. The drive home is short, but even if you weren’t in his car for the evening, he doesn’t like to tempt fate. 

Next to him at the bartop, you drop his hand to press your palms against the sticky wood. You make a face and he laughs before ordering a simple rum and coke. You order the same but with a lime and the bartender flashes you a charming grin.

Vernon glances at you and realizes you don’t even register the bartender. You’re chewing your lip and fidgeting, pulling at the sleeves of your shirt and shifting from foot-to-foot. A pang goes through him. 

“Relax.” You look up at him, eyes wide. “We’re going to do fine.”

“What if I fuck it up?” You ask, voice barely audible as you lean in. “They’re going to see right through me, Vernon from IT. They’re going to have one conversation with us and be like ‘no way is he dating that lunatic.’” 

“For starters, you’re not a lunatic.” You give him a look and he amends, “Not in the way that’s bad, anyway.”

“How do you know? We barely know each other.” 

You’ve got him there. The bartender comes back with your drinks and you take yours, draining half of it before remembering the lime. He watches you squeeze it into the drink while he contemplates his answer. 

“I guess I just have a feeling for these things. You don’t seem very crazy to me.”

“Thanks.” 

“And I guess I’m getting to know you, so there’s that.” 

You sigh. “Right.” 

“You’ll do fine. But maybe don’t call me Vernon from IT.”

“Right.” 

“Come on.” 

With wavering confidence, you follow Vernon over to the crowd from work. Everyone greets you warmly, though a little unsure. He notes the comments about being shocked to see you outside the four walls of your office, a joke you take in stride. 

It’s clear you don’t know how to interact with everyone at first. It’s not to say that you’re stiff or awkward, but Vernon can see the rigid set in your shoulders and the way your eyes follow the conversation but don’t actually contribute. 

You have an effect on others as well. For those who are a little more unfamiliar with you, they can’t seem to puzzle out why one of the higher ups is here guzzling down rum and cokes. And you are guzzling them down, carving a path to and from the bar at a rate that impresses Vernon. 

“How are things going?” Chan slips into the seat you just vacated to march to the bar again. “She seems surprisingly normal.”

“Why is that surprising?” 

Chan gives him a look. “She’s a suit.”

“I don’t think so,” Vernon laughs. “Trust me on that.” 

Chan hums unconvinced, watching you at the bar. “She’s nice, at least.”

“Very.” 

“Don’t fall in love with her or anything.”

“Weird thing to say, man.”

“Yeah, well. She’s attractive, nice, and no offense, a little weird. She’s exactly your type.” 

That makes him frown. “What’s weird about her? Also, would that be so bad?”

“She knew the radius of the sun and the verbatim definition of parsecs. I’m not answering that second question because I shouldn’t have to.” Chan claps him on the shoulder, looking over Vernon’s head. “She’s coming back, but seriously. Be careful.” 

Chan scoots away, flashing Vernon a look that makes the single drink Vernon has had sour in his stomach. Then you’re there, sitting down next to him, swaying a little bit. He smells sweet tobacco and vanilla, his eyelids fluttering for a second as you shift a little too close - or what would be too close, if you weren’t fake dating. 

“What’s that look on your face?” You ask, sipping your drink. He wonders if it’s appropriate to ask if you need water.

“What look on my face?” 

“You know, like-” You try to pinch your brows together and your mouth puckers downward. He feels himself smile and he shakes his head. “Sort of frowny.” 

“Nothing.” You look at him skeptically. “Hey, I have a question.” 

You pause, looking a little panicked. “Okay.”

“What’s the radius of the sun?” 

“Oh!” You visibly brighten and it’s like watching the sun spill over the lip of the horizon, all gold and liquid, warm and bright. “432,690 miles. Surface temperature is about 5,772 Kelvin.” 

Suddenly, Chan’s warning feels very, very real. Vernon tries to hide his smile, looking down at the table. Meanwhile, you start rattling off facts about the sun, not taking a single breath as you explain you memorized them from when you were working on the marketing for a line of textbooks about space early on in your career. 

Vernon lets you talk. Lets you somehow divert back to work, watching as you animatedly walk him through the process of what you do. How you think. It’s fascinating, and he’s not really sure how anyone else could find it tiresome, seeing the way you light up when you tell him about a project that Seungkwan’s team killed it on. 

Your pride is palpable, your energy shifting from unsure to confident. 

Suddenly, you pause, leveling Vernon with a hard stare. He says nothing, watching the way you drink him in, something beneath the surface of your gaze he can’t quite read. “Can I say something?” 

“On the clock?” he asks, grinning. You shake your head and he gestures for you to continue. 

“You have pretty eyes. I still like when you wear glasses, though. They suit you.” 

Yeah. Vernon thinks Chan’s warning is very real. 

-

Running in heels is hard. You don’t know how anyone manages to do it in movies. Not that you think anything that happens in movies is real, but you can’t imagine how they make it work for the scene. You nearly break your ankle three times on your sprint to IT and you’re sure you scare the daylights out of Chan when you come tearing around the corner.

You shout a greeting over your shoulder but don’t stop until you’re hissing Vernon’s name while rushing into his cube. He flinches, turning around to look at you mid-task. You’re heaving, putting a hand on your hip as you straighten, trying to suck down air. 

“Say no!”

He’s visibly confused. “To what?”

“Just say no!”

Before Vernon can ask you another thing, you hear Minho’s voice. Your heart thunders in your ribcage as you try to lean against the wall of Vernon’s cube, nearly missing it. You stumble a few steps and he catches you by the elbow, lightning quick as he helps steady you. 

When he drops his grip, the place where Vernon had held you moments before is warm. You try not to think about it, heart thundering doubletime as you watch Minho approach, a lazy swing to his step and a smirk on his face. 

“Funny I found you here!” 

“Why would that be funny? My Vernon - my boyfriend is down here.” 

From the corner of his eye, you see Vernon wince. You’re not doing a great job at keeping it casual, but you’re also still out of breath from sprinting down the stairs to beat Minho here and warn Vernon. Seungkwan had barely been able to give you the heads up that Minho was going to ask for a double date, and you simply couldn’t have that.

Even as you near the end of your second week dating - fake dating - Vernon, you’re unsure the two of you can get through a date with someone who actually knows you. Vernon might be able to give some details on the surface, but you dated Minho for a year - how could Vernon ever hope to keep up? 

Minho leans against Chan’s cube. Luckily it’s vacant of its usual occupant - Chan hates Mihno, as you’ve recently learned through a lunch with him and Vernon. 

“Glad I caught you together, then,” Minho says, though you think he’s not that glad. But what do you know? “I wanted to see if you were busy on-”

“Yes.” You flash him a too-wide grin with too many teeth. 

“I didn’t even give you the date.”

“We’re always very busy.”

“Ah.” Minho scratches the back of his neck and gives Vernon a look akin to sympathy. “Never has time, does she? Always all work, no play. I wanted to see if you guys wanted to go to dinner with Mina and I tomorrow night, but…” He shrugs. “Same old.”

You try not to let your exterior crack, but Minho’s words cut right through your outer shell to the softness of you. Without fail he manages to highlight this obsession you have with work, making it sound worse every single time. 

Behind you, Vernon shifts closer. You become acutely aware of him suddenly, warmth radiating from him as his chest presses against the back of your arm and his hand slips to the middle of your back, featherlight, like he’s afraid to touch you. He smells like ocean driftwood and salt, something that makes you think of warmer days. Fresh fruit. Cold water. 

Fighting a shiver, you freeze up, hyper aware of him. 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vernon says gently. “She doesn’t work that much. She makes plenty of time for me.”

Minho’s eye twitches, the only sign he’s annoyed. As a trained salesperson, his tells are always subtle, nearly undetectable. But you know him inside and out, can see the sliver of annoyance there.

Satisfaction rules supreme, a smile tugging at your lips until Vernon adds, “We can make time for them, right?” 

You snap your head to the side, eyes meeting his. Vernon has beautiful eyes. You’d said as much the other night when you had a little too much to drink, staring up at him without his glasses. He looks good without them, but you like the way the frames sit on his nose, the way they reflect light against the liquid brown of his iris. 

Now, those eyes are staring back at you straight on. There’s something fierce in them, and though you barely know him, you have a sneaking suspicion Vernon is annoyed. Not with you but with Minho. 

Still… 

“Are you sure?” 

Your question is gentle. For a moment, you forget Minho is there at all. You’re looking at Vernon, trying to puzzle out why he would say yes to something insane again. It was lucky enough he’d offered to participate in this little charade to save your pride, and now here he is doing it again, unprompted. 

Vernon’s mouth twitches. He nods, hand pressing into your back a little firmer before he drops it away. You turn to Minho, who watches the two of you with a peculiar expression. “Alright,” you tell him. “It’s a date.” 

“Great. I’ll send you the details.” 

When Minho leaves, you turn to Vernon, the question on the tip of your tongue. He doesn’t give you a chance, shooting you a sidelong glance as he says, “Why is he always bringing up your work schedule?” 

You wince. Vernon either doesn’t notice or is nice enough not to say anything. Instead of answering right away, you sit on top of Vernon’s desk, feet dangling a little. He makes room for you, turning his chair to face you and give you his full attention. 

He’s dressed the same as always today, but you notice his shirt is ironed and tucked in neatly. Rubbing his brow, he slides his glasses up on his head, pressing his fingers along his eye sockets like they’re strained. 

“What kind of stuff do you do?” You ask instead of answering his question. You gesture to his multiple computer screens. “Besides help me figure out my passwords.” 

“Lots of stuff. It’s mostly small things like remoting into people’s computers to help them solve their issues. I spend a majority of my day showing people how to unmute themselves on their virtual meeting software.” 

“Do you like it?”

He shrugs. “It’s got a rhythm to it that I like. I like having a to-do list every day and I can pretty much always know what to expect.” 

“That does sound nice. And you can spy on everyone’s messages right?”

He raises his brow. “On the clock?” That makes you smile and you shake your head. “I could, but I don’t. There are a ton of people who forget us and HR can see all their shit, though.” 

“Ooo like what?” 

He sucks in air through his teeth, “Man, I don’t think I can tell you.”

You can tell he’s teasing and you scoff, kicking out with your foot toward his knee. He dodges you easily with a playful grin. “Come on!” 

“I’ll tell you off the clock. Real off the clock.” 

“Fine. Speaking of - are you busy tonight?” He raises his brows in question. “We should probably meet up and try to flesh out some details of our uh… relationship. I know some things about you but not a lot. Like, when is your birthday?”

“February 18.” 

You slap your hand on top of his desk. “Vernon! That’s super soon! Are you doing anything for it?”

“Nah. I don’t ever want to make a fuss and it's close to Valentine’s Day so sometimes people are doing things retroactively.” 

You hum, displeased with the answer, but you file it away for later. “So are you free tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool, you can come over to my place. Do you like pizza? You have to like pizza, right? You’re a boy.”

“A lot of boys like pizza, yes. Specifically me.” 

“Good. Seven?” 

“Seven.” 

-

A knock at the door makes you look up from your computer. It takes a second for your eyes to adjust, the light outside the office windows long fading with the setting sun and the only other source the salt lamp behind you and the burn of the safety lights in the main cubicles.

Vernon leans against the door frame, resting his head against it as he peers at you. For a second, you forget about everything except the way he looks leaned against the frame, his glasses perfectly perched on his nose and hair soft with wear from the day. 

Then, you lurch with realization, gasping and looking at your watch. “It’s seven.”

“It’s seven,” he agrees, laughing gently. 

You bolt from the seat, groaning and grabbing things to shove in your bag. In the process, you knock over a cup and a curse flies out your lips. He pushes off the door, walking over to help you tame the chaos. 

“Easy,” he admonishes. “All good here, don’t panic.”

“I’m really sorry. I got stuck working through this media plan that someone asked for and I completely lost track of time.”

“It’s okay.” 

The panic welling up inside you calms down as you look up at him. Vernon says nothing further, picking up your cup and righting the pens that you’ve knocked over. His movements are casual, straightening the things on your desk until he’s satisfied and steps away. 

You prepare for annoyance, for the same expression you’re used to when you’re late to an event or have missed a thing, when you’ve yet again lost track of time holed up in your office and yet… Vernon just gives you an easy smile and a shrug.

No annoyance. No judgment. Just… Vernon. 

Perhaps tenfold isn’t so bad. 

“It’s not pizza, but there's a tiny little bar a few blocks down that I really like. They serve food.” 

“Yeah?”

He nods and hesitates. “It’s… themed, though.”

“That’s okay. I like a theme.”

The theme in question isn’t so much of a theme as it is an entire franchise. You stand in the doorway of Cantina Far Away, mouth parted as you drink in the sights and sounds of the Star Wars themed bar. 

A circular bar sits in the middle of the small establishment. There isn’t a ton of room to recreate the iconic corner of the world where you were first introduced to Han Solo as a kid, but there’s just enough to make the magic work. 

Kegs and other apparatuses hang from the ceiling of the stone top bar. Lights track underneath the bar top and in the ceiling, giving the dim illusion that it’s permanently dusk inside. Small, round tables fill the main space, with three booths lined against the back wall. An R2-D2 replica stands beside C3-PO in the corner, and a familiar soundtrack plays through the sound system.

“If you want to go somewhere else-”

“Do they have blue milk?” 

Vernon pauses. “What?” 

You look up at him, grinning. “Do they have the blue milk?”

“They have something on their menu like that, yeah. I don’t know what it is.”

“I always wanted to drink the blue milk as a kid.”

“Alright.” He gestures to the bar, which is mostly empty. “Let’s get you blue milk.”

Popping up on a stool, you can’t help but crane your neck upward to look at the bar from this angle. It truly looks like every part of it was taken from the movie set. You run your hand atop the bar’s surface to realize it’s actually wood that looks like stone, marveling at the smoothness. 

Behind the bar, two bartenders move in sync, dressed in Jedi robes. When they approach, you both order the blue milk - you, because you demand to know what it tastes like, Vernon, in solidarity. 

Vibrating with excitement, you turn to look at Vernon. “When I was a kid, watching Star Wars was one of the few things my mom and I got to do together.” 

“One of the few things?”

You nod, clapping your hands excitedly when the bartender brings you whatever concoction the blue milk is. It comes in a tall glass and is clear, baby blue and frothy at the top. Leaning over, you take a whiff. It smells vaguely coconutty and you narrow your eyes, leaning forward to take a tentative sip.

Coconut rum hits your tongue and you cringe. Vernon does too, making a face and sticking his tongue out as he immediately shoves the drink away from him. You laugh, not even caring that you hate it. It tastes nothing like you expected and you don’t really like coconut, but it strikes a nostalgic chord. 

“My mom was a single parent and worked really hard at a law firm,” you eventually answer, taking another sip and cringing. Vernon orders something more generic - a rum and coke for you both. “But she always made time on the weekend if I really wanted to do a Star Wars marathon and she took off work for all the prequel releases to take me.”

“That’s cute. My mom was really into it too. Want to know a secret?”

“Yes.”

“My first name is Hansol. A little inspired by Han Solo. I prefer to go by Vernon with everyone who isn’t my family, though.”

That makes you smile. “I like it, though. Your mom has good taste like mine. Think they’d be friends?”

He blushes. “Maybe.” 

You realize how forward of a question it is. You avert your gaze to your blue drink, sipping it and grimacing. Vernon chuckles and says, “You don’t have to drink it.”

“I don’t have to do a lot of things but I do anyway.” 

“Hmm. Like what?” 

“Ugh. I don’t know? Attend meetings all day?”

“I think you do have to do that.”

You scrunch your nose. “Alright, fair.” 

“Tell me about your job.” 

You glance at him, brows raised. “You want me to talk about work?”

“It’s obvious you like what you do, and by the sounds of it, working hard runs in the family. Tell me what you like about it.” 

That makes you sigh as you push the ice around in your glass. What do you like about your job? Well, you like a lot of things and you hate a lot of things. So you start listing them, telling Vernon that you like the routine and you enjoy having a rhythm to your day. You like feeling proud when you can solve a problem no one else can, or when you lead your team through chaos and they look at you like you’re a god who showed them the way.

You like that you can be an authority in the room but you don’t feel like a dictator, and that now when you talk, people listen. Your team is your favorite, loving the way you and Seungkwan work in tandem, and the way the creative department likes to pick your brain. Mingyu and Soonyoung are always asking for your feedback, even if your opinion doesn’t matter in the hierarchy of their world.

The dislikes though… well, you dislike that you never have enough time in the day. That you’re always in a meeting and feel like you leave your team drowning in work picking up the slack. Hate that you get time blindness and sit in your office for hours past dinner to get something right, to get something perfect.

Hate that because you like what you do, everyone thinks you don’t have a life or don’t want a life. And that leads you to the center of the entire issue with your relationship with Minho. 

You pull away like you’re approaching a particularly purple bruise when you near the topic of Minho. Your blue drink is gone and you order something more normal instead. The coke and rum sizzles on your tongue as Vernon looks at you expectantly. 

“I’m doing all the talking,” you mutter, a little defensive. “What’s your favorite color?” 

“Blue.”

“What kind of blue.” 

“Blue like that very nasty milk you just drank.” You stick your tongue out and Vernon smiles. His smile is like a burning star at the center of a solar system, glowing and bright and warm. It gives life. “What’s yours?”

“Deep red. Like… wine or burgundy. What’s your favorite movie?”

“Ah, not that question. I’m a bit of a cinephile.”

“Too bad. You have to pick one.” 

Vernon thinks about it. The tip of his finger traces the condensation of his glass lazily and you hyperfocus on it, watching the way he catches the bead of liquid every time. He has nice fingers, you realize. The thought makes you clench and suddenly wonder if you need to walk out of the bar down to the church to confess the sin of your mind.

Not that you’re religious, but maybe you should be, with where your mind has wandered. 

“I like The Princess Bride.”

You gasp, grabbing him by the wrist and shaking it excitedly. “My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, prepare to die!” 

Vernon’s laughter is infectious. You both fall into a fit of giggles, quoting your favorite parts of the movie. It’s nice - this is nice. It’s unexpected and you’re a little unsure how you got here, but Vernon makes the pressure of getting to know one another in preparation to fake date in front of your ex fade away.

Until, of course, you remember that’s why you’re at the bar and the thought suddenly sobers you. 

Straightening, you ask, “Why’d you want to go on a double date, anyway? You don’t owe me that.” 

“He seemed kind of smug. I thought it was annoying.” 

You hum, studying him. “It’s a bit risky. I dated him for a year… if there’s anyone who knows anything about me, it’s probably him.” 

“I can always just hack into your data and learn everything about you.” You stare at him, mouth opens. His grin grows. “I’m kidding. I mean I probably could but I’m not a hacker.”

“Are you sure? You’re a bit suspicious, Vernon Chwe.” 

“Hansol.” You frown in confusion. His tone is gentle, eyes soft when he murmurs, “You can call me Hansol. You know… to make it um. Seems legit.”

“Hansol.” You try out the name, liking the way it fits on your tongue. His eyes are dark and you feel like you could fall into them - you kind of want to. “Hansol. I like it.”

Maybe you don’t need to go to that church to beg for forgiveness after all. What you think you need might be divine intervention to stop the butterflies in your stomach when you say his name, or the nervous shake in your hand when you see him smile. 

Not Vernon (from IT) but Hansol. 

-

Hansol (from IT) is late when he picks you up. For once, you’re just glad it’s not you. Your heart beats a little faster when you see him pull up in his nondescript, black RAV4. He waves through the window when he sees you, a shy smile on his face as he reaches to turn down the music. 

Inside the car smells distinctly like Hansol - driftwood, salt, a little bit of the air freshener that has long since dried but still sways under his rearview mirror. He looks good tonight, dressed in ripped jeans, a black shirt and a black leather jacket. He’s sans glasses, and though he looks good, you miss them a little. 

Hansol without the glasses is a little intimidating. Especially this version of him that grins when you settle into the seat next to him, his brows slightly raised as though to ask if you’re good. When you nod, his grin tilts upward again and he puts the car and drive, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear shift tapping to the beat of the music. 

It feels like you’re radiating nervous energy, but you relax as Hansol asks about your day. He’s good at that, eliminating whatever weight is sitting on your shoulders or whatever residual stress you’ve got from work. You don’t feel so… well. On the clock. 

The thought makes you squirm in your seat, pulling the edge of your dress down your thighs a little. You picked it out as a last minute choice, unsure whether you’re trying to dress to impress or dress to show you don’t care what Minho thinks of you.

Hansol notices you fidgeting. “You alright?”

“Kind of nervous.”

“Any reason in particular?”

You blow out air, your head smacking against the headrest. “On the clock?”

“Off,” he says with a grin.

“I feel like I’m going to fucking blow it.”

“How so?”

“What if he asks me to kiss you?”

The words are out before you can stop them. It isn’t until you’re met with silence that you realize what you’ve said. You’ve certainly stuck your foot in your mouth on more than one occasion. You do it often, and quite wonderfully, truthfully. It has taken years of practice to stop flubbing presentations and pitches at work, but that doesn’t mean you don’t say insane shit.

Like right now, when you tell Hansol that of all the things you’re nervous about, the very slim, tiny percent of a chance of being asked to kiss him is at the top of the list. 

And yet, because it’s Hansol, he grins and says, “Damn, Minho’s a freak like that? He likes to ask people to kiss so he can watch?”

Just like that, the tension eases. You laugh, hand flying your mouth to try and suppress it. His eyes are on the road, but they glitter when you catch a glimpse of his face in the headlines, flashing from dark to liquid gold for a split second. 

“Okay,” you admit, laughter dying down. “He’s definitely not going to ask that. It’s just one of those irrational fears, especially with him.”

“Why especially?”

“I feel like he’s always trying to prove that he was right when he broke up with me. Or I guess, in general. He loves being right and sometimes it’s like he’s trying to force a gotcha moment.” 

Hansol is silent as he turns into the parking lot. You say nothing, watching as he navigates to find a parking space. The restaurant is busy and there’s a valet, but Hansol is determined to find his own. He does - very close to the entrance - letting out a happy noise as a car backs out.

Car in park, he turns to look at you. “Can I say something? Not on the clock.”

Your heart skips a little. “Sure.”

“Minho is an asshole.” You smile, looking down at your hands folded in your lap. “And you’re going to get through dinner just fine because he’s an asshole, and you’re not.” 

“Are you sure?”

His laugh is full. “I’m actually pretty confident in this. And if he does ask us to kiss, you have my full consent to lay one on me. Come on.” 

You wish you felt as confident as Hansol seems. He slides out of the car easily, coming around to your side as you get out. He reaches out a hand almost instinctively, waiting for you to grab it. You look at him in surprise to find that he looks equally stunned at his own gesture. 

Grinning, you take his hand. It’s warm in yours and he gives you a squeeze as you drop your linked fingers between you, walking toward the establishment like a real couple.

It feels real. You’re not sure what to do with that. The sudden realization of it churns in your stomach as you approach the dark interior of the steakhouse, immediately hit with a romantic ambiance that feels far too big for this tiny thing brewing inside of you. 

Twelvefold? How many times have you suffered since that first day you ran into Hansol at the bookstore? You think it might continue through the evening, especially when he glances over at you on the way to the table to check on you, hand tightening for a split second. 

As soon as you spot Minho and Mina, you’re glad that Hansol has a steady grip on you. Mina’s glossy hair is nearly blinding under the glow of the soft lighting and her smile is brighter still. You almost want to shield your eyes as they wave you over. 

Neither of them seems to know if they should stand and greet you or what the protocol is. Good, you think, happy to see them as off kilter as you feel by this very weird and very unnecessary dinner date. 

Why had Hansol agreed to do this again? 

“She keep you late?” Minho asks Hansol, immediately reminding you why Hansol had said yes in the first place: he seemed kind of smug. I thought it was annoying. “You’ll get used to it!”

“Actually, it was me,” Hansol answers smoothly. He pulls out your chair for you, startling you again. You try to fein admiration - it’s not hard - and sit, looking up at him with a little bit of awe. Hansol sits, adjusting his seat so that it’s a little closer to yours. “I was working on an infrastructure request and lost track of time.”

That seems to shut Minho up for a moment. Then he laughs his businessman laugh and you wonder if it’s always sounded that way, hollow and fake and… well, annoying. “Damn, so you’re both like that?” 

“Yep.” Hansol leans back in his chair, stretching his arm so that it rests over the back of yours. He doesn’t explicitly touch you, but you feel the warmth of him radiating like a furnace, a shiver snaking through you at how close he is. “Works well for us.” 

You try not to frown. He’s not going to make it easy for your fake breakup. You’d assumed that you’d tell everyone you just didn’t have time for him, but with the way he’s talking to Minho now, you’re worried it’ll make the impending breakup a little less believable. 

“That’s good, then,” Minho says eventually. “Just don’t schedule any vacations or you’ll both miss it.”

“I never did that,” you scowl. 

Before he has time for a rebuttal, the server is there welcoming you to the restaurant. You shift in your seat, feeling irritated. Hansol senses it, the tips of his finger brushing against your bicep as if to tell you it’s okay. You relax, but only a little, still frustrated. 

Again, you can’t help but feel like your faults are being exacerbated, like Minho is drawing them up to be far grander than they really were. You had missed some dinners and cancelled on some things, but you’d never gone as far as to miss a vacation or a birthday - never the big things. Never the milestones. 

If the server can tell the energy at the table has shifted, they don’t let on. They pour glasses of wine that you let Hansol order while you’re spiraling in your head, and leave with the promise of coming back to take orders when the table is ready. 

It’s Mina who restarts the conversation, glancing at Minho who sucks down the entire glass of wine in a single go. “So,” she says. “What is it exactly that you do?”

“Careful with that question,” Minho jokes. “She’ll talk to you about work for hours.” 

“Which is what makes her good at her job.” Hansol’s voice is even. Smooth. Almost severe, a tone you’ve never heard from him before. Tension ripples from him for just a moment before he looks at you and smiles. “Her job is very cool.”

Unlike her blockhead of a boyfriend, Mina seizes the chance for normalcy and asks, “Marketing, right?” 

Mina (with the glossy hair) is really nice. You like her almost immediately and strangely enough, you’re glad she’s there. Minho is like a stormcloud at the edge of the table, a little pocket of pressure that everyone can feel but tries to ignore. 

Hansol makes your fake relationship look effortless. You have to mask your surprise when he recounts a detail about you that you didn’t expect him to know, or makes an observation that has you warming, ducking your face to hide the smile tugging your lips. 

You know little things about him too. It’s almost like you weren’t aware until you’re saying them, all the small things about him bubbling to your lips like an instinct. 

“He’s such an Aquarius!” You laugh, finish the rest of your steak. “The IT department is full of them, even and they’re all so effortlessly cool and have different interests. Hansol has the coolest case full of Star Wars collectibles and-” 

“Hansol?” 

Minho’s question catches you off guard. You blink at him a few times, confused until Hansol interjects, “That’s my legal name.”

“Damn. Should we be calling you Hansol?”

“Nope. Reserved for my mom and my girlfriend.” 

“Wow.”

Minho sits back and observes the two of you. The plates have been cleared away for the evening and the glasses of wine have dwindled. You’re a little sleepy, ready to go home, but the appraising look in Minho’s eyes as they flicker back and forth between you and Hansol has you on edge.

Hansol seems unbothered, finishing his water. His arm rests against your back properly now and you almost melt when his fingers start to trace a pattern on your arm, almost absently. You’re so acutely aware of him that you’re nearly vibrating, telling yourself over and over again that this is just him committing to the bit. This isn’t something to overthink. His touch is for show.

You don’t want it to be for show. God, you don’t want it to be, but you try not to let it unravel right now, instead finishing your water under the heavy and calculating gaze of your ex-boyfriend, who, over the course of dinner, has made you realize you are so grateful is your ex. 

“Huh.”

“What?” you ask, voice coming out a little more challenging than you intend. He has that look on his face like he’s trying to figure something out, like he’s trying to position himself in a way where he’s not wrong. 

“You guys are really together.”

That makes you stiffen. Hansol’s fingers go still on your arm. “What do you mean?”

“You just didn’t really seem like you were dating at the bookstore. It didn’t even seem like you knew who Vernon was.” 

“It was still new,” You lie. “I also wasn’t expecting to run into you both. That’s all.”

“I guess. Just… find it surprising, I guess. Figured you’d never have time for someone.”

It’s Hansol who says, “She has plenty of time for me. Speaking of time, it’s time we head home. I have to finish up some stuff for work tomorrow and she just finished an insane project and deserves some sleep.”

Again, Minho seems thrown for a loop. You could get used to seeing him like a fish out of water, trying not to let an evil smirk take over your face when Hansol beats everyone to the check. 

There is an edge to Hansol’s movements. You observe him quietly, noting the way his mouth is pinched at the corners and the way his eyes darken when he looks at Minho. But when he looks at you, it’s like the world stops. Hansol’s eyes soften and his lips turn up at the corner, a gentle smile for you.

Only you. 

You’re fucked. You’re fucked fucked fucked and it’s nearly all you can think about as dinner wraps up and Minho and Mina thank Hansol for paying. You want to smack him for offering to pay for the insanely expensive bill, but he takes everything in stride.

Outside, it’s a little cold. Hansol shucks his jacket off immediately, wrapping it around your shoulders while giving Mina some sort of computer advice that goes over your head because all you can focus on is the way Hansol smoothes the jacket over your shoulder, his hand dropping to your waist to keep you close.

You’re dizzy with it. Dizzy with him. You can’t recall a single time you ever felt this affected by Minho, much less anyone else. Despite having two glasses of wine, you know it’s Hansol and not the wine that has you buzzing. Hansol who has you warm, Hansol who makes it feel like there’s static in your brain when he glances at you to make sure you’re still okay after you’ve gone silent. 

Hansol gives you a quick smile and turns to say farewell to the other couple. You’re happy to say goodbye - though perhaps you should have asked Mina her haircare routine - and you wave as Hansol leads you into the parking lot, fingers intertwined.

He turns to you, making you look up at him. “I’m going to kiss you,” he murmurs, barely giving you a warning. “Unless you say no.” 

“I - okay.” 

There is the barest of smiles on Hansol’s face before he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. It’s brief and gentle, so quick that you barely register he’s kissed you at all. He’s already pulling away when you blink, nearing his car as he does. 

“He was a dick,” Hansol explains. “And he was staring at us when we left. So. Let him question what’s real now.” 

Minho isn’t the only one questioning what’s real. You’re hung up on the kiss, despite it being nothing more than a peck. Your mouth is warm, thoughts spinning as Hansol helps you into the car. You say nothing, completely consumed by the feel of his mouth, the smell of driftwood and salt, the barest taste of wine. 

The drive home is quiet but not uncomfortable. Hansol’s hand grabs yours instinctually over the center console, fingers tied together loosely as he drives. But there’s no one to perform for her, no one to show off too. No one who needs convincing. 

It’s just you and the burning desire for him bubbling up inside of you.

You’ve lost count of how many folds you have suffered, but somehow, this one is a little less worse than the others.

-

Hansol cannot stop thinking about you. He’s pretty sure the last time he had brain rot this bad about another person, it was Larcy Dodsen in his senior year of college who had blown him to heaven and back. He’s had better (and worse) blowjobs since then, and doesn’t really think of Larcy Dodsen ever anymore.

But you. You. 

You occupy every corner of his mind. He wavers back and forth between thinking about the way you smell or the way you laugh (a little reedy, but cute) and thinking about how bad he fucked up by kissing you that night. 

Things aren’t exactly weird. The very basis of your relationship - or lack thereof - is weird. He’d agreed to be your fake boyfriend for a month, but with zero terms. No contract outline. No do’s and don’ts. No guidelines. No rules. No regulations. Just an agreement and a fucking dream. 

Now, he’s wishing he had something to go off of, because what started out as an agreement to help someone out has turned into something else entirely. 

Chan was right. Hansol is desperately trying to hide that fact from his best friend, but the way Chan side-eyes Hansol at lunch when he stares off into the distance, he thinks that the younger  man might be onto him. 

It doesn’t help that Hansol is buried in Help Desk tickets the weekend following kissing you, and you’re six feet under in a pile of projects. It isn’t until he goes a few days without talking to you multiple times that it’s occurred to him how much he texts you during the day. 

Hansol finds himself checking his phone again at lunch, swearing that he felt it vibrate. This time, Chan catches him, putting down the fork and clearing his throat to gesture at the phone. “So it happened, right?” 

“What?” Even Hansol winces at his own defensiveness. “I can’t check the time?”

“Do you check the time three times every five minutes? I know you can do math.” 

“Just checking to see how her presentation went.”

Chan laughs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Right. So it did happen.”

“You’ll have to be more specific.”

He doesn’t. Chan knows it. Hansol knows it. Chan gets more specific anyway. “You like her. As in, you have feelings for her after… well. This weekend will make it a month. So wouldn’t that be your deal coming to an end?”

Hansol wants to think about anything other than that. “Everything is fine.” 

Chan holds up his hand, a white flag. “You’re an adult. You can do what you want. Just make sure you know what she wants too, is all I’m saying.” 

And that’s the crux of it. Hansol isn’t sure what you want. He assumed that you just wanted to get through this month and your fake breakup, but now he’s not so sure. He thinks of the way you’d look at him during dinner last weekend, the way your expression gets dreamy with a soft smile, eyes glowing. 

Hansol doesn’t think he made it up - his creativity is good but not that good. He had been so sure that you felt something too, swears that you melted into him every time he touched you, every time he turned to check in on you.

And the kiss… it had been brief and born from wanting to rub it in Minho’s face, but Hansol had wanted to do it, too. Wanted it for himself. Wanted to allow himself a single, greedy thing. You’d been surprised but leaned into him, almost instinctual. It had been so short but it haunts his dreams, the phantom press of your mouth keeping him up late at night. 

Even now, Hansol’s fingers trace his mouth, as though he can remember the feeling of your mouth against his. So maybe Chan is right. Hansol likes you - has feelings for you. There is a lingering sense that you might too, but he’s not sure. 

He needs to be sure. 

Finding a window to make sure, is tough, though. He only hears from you once throughout the rest of the day, and it's to shoot him a quick text that the presentation was moved to Monday and that you have to work all weekend on it. 

He feels more disappointed than he lets on. He wonders if you remember his birthday is on Saturday. Not that you owe him that since you’re not actually dating, but in a perfect world Hansol thinks it might have been a good day to tell you how he feels. That he kind of wants to make this thing real. 

On the bright side, you do remember his birthday. On the shitty side, he can’t spend it with you. You’re working on your presentation for the foreseeable future, and Hansol had hesitated to make plans with his friends knowing some of them were celebrating Valentine’s Day late with their partners and because he’d hoped to maybe spend it with you.

It feels stupid, thinking about it now. Of course you weren’t going to spend it with him. He knew what this was when he offered to do it. You were a bright burning star at the top of the company, and Hansol had been someone you barely registered. 

By the afternoon, he’s still sullen. He’s thinking about just spending the evening eating pizza and playing video games online where he’ll get bullied by a bunch of high schoolers when he hears his phone ring and your name flashes across the screen.

Hansol’s heart soars. He all but throws the control across the room, diving to pick up the phone and answer, “Hi!” 

“Please don’t hate me,” you rush out, completely out of breath. “I am panicking right now. My work laptop randomly got the blue screen of death and I’m in the middle of my project and-”

“I’ll come look at it.” He cringes, realizing how down bad he is. It’s his birthday and he shouldn’t have to work, but he’d rather come solve a problem for you than have a bunch of thirteen year old’s tell him that they’re fucking his mom. “I can come over in fifteen.” 

“Oh! Uh… can you make that twenty?” 

Weird. “Sure?” 

“Great! Text me when you’re here and I’ll give you the unit number.” 

Twenty minutes ends up being perfect, because Hansol goes through the mental anguish of what to wear, which is new for him. He showers as quickly and efficiently as he can, hopping with one leg in his jeans and the other missing the hole multiple times. He nearly runs into the wall as he’s pulling on a band tee over his head while also looking for his flannel. 

Hair still damp, he pulls on a hat and twists it around backward, grabbing his glasses because he doesn’t feel like wearing contacts (and because you said you liked them) as he barrels out the house, radiating with nervous energy. 

Hansol wonders if it’s appropriate to tell you how he feels today. It will be face to face but… no. You’d sounded stressed on the phone and he knows how important this presentation is for you, despite not knowing what it’s about. 

He barely remembers the drive to your apartment, blinking and realizing he’s parked and texting you that he’s there. You give him directions to your unit and with shaky hands, Hansol turns off the car. He takes a few steadying breaths before getting out and heading to the stairs, his heart hammering with each step. 

When he finally gets to your door, he double checks that it's the right one. His hands shake when he knocks, and he has to remind himself several times that he’s just here to fix your computer. Sure, he’s thrilled that he gets to see you, but this is on the clock. Not off.

You’re breathless when you open the door. “Hi!” You say a little too loudly. He raises his brows but you open the door and step aside, ushering him in. “Come on in.”

Hansol gives you an amused grin as he walks into your apartment. He’s confused as to why it’s completely dark, a question that he’s about to ask you as you shut the door, but you flick on the lights and he’s met with the world’s loudest shout of surprise he’s ever heard.

He flinches, hand flying to his chest in terror as the lights flood on and Hansol realizes that the reason they were off is to hide the obscene amount of Star Wars decorations covering every part of your apartment. He can’t even picture what your home is supposed to look like, just that it’s covered in streamers and paper Luke Skywalkers and RD-D2s, and filled with familiar faces.

Hansol’s mouth pops open as the crowd screams at him. Chan and Seokmin are at the forefront, phones in hand capturing Hansol as he stands there, dumbfounded. Soongyoung and Mingyu are blowing through noise makers with so much force that the paper on them breaks, and Seungkwan is leading an off-key rendition of happy birthday with Hansol’s friends you’ve never even met.

Slowly, Hansol turns to look at you. You’re standing behind him, hands clasped nervously and tucked under your chin as you watch him, terrified. You’re chewing on your lips, entire frame vibrating with energy. 

He wants nothing more than to walk over to you and kiss you stupid. The flame of desire that licks through him is borderline impossible to tamp down, staring at you like the eighth world wonder as you slip over to him, scanning his face.

“Surprise?” You squeak.

“You did this for me?”

“Well, yeah.” 

You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He wants to pin you against the island counter behind you, but it’s fill with food and beverages and blue fucking milk. “Is that okay?” you ask, suddenly nervous. 

Hansol softens and starts to laugh. “Yeah,” he shakes his head. “It is more than okay.” 

Before he can say anything else, the crowd of people crashes into him. Seokmin and Chan are screaming in his ear, grabbing him and yelling for shots. Mingyu and Soonyoung are chanting his name and his best friend from college manages to squeeze in and give him a hug and a birthday greeting.

How did you even know Minghao existed? Or how to contact him? Hansol has no idea, but before he can ask you any questions about the how or the why, he’s swept into your kitchen for birthday celebrations he thought would never happen, orchestrated by the single person he wanted to see most. 

Fuck was Chan right more than ever. 

-

The thing about being a bad liar is that you found it nearly impossible to hide what you were doing from Hansol. The thing about everyone thinking you’re always busy, is that it was an easy facade to shield the sheer stress of trying to plan a surprise party for him. 

Your apartment is filled with more people than you’ve ever dared to let inside. It makes you a little nervous for all of these people to see this new part of you, but with a little bit of rum and the released pressure of Hansol looking like he’s enjoying himself, you decide it’s worth it. 

Squished in the corner of your couch, you watch as Chan leads a game of cards that he is losing very badly at. Most of these people in your apartment are casual friends, with the exception of Seungkwan who is playing DJ in the kitchen, but they’re all friends that Hansol would want at a celebration for him.

At least, that’s what Chan and Seokmin said. Recruiting them had been pretty easy, but during the process of them helping you plan this, you’re pretty sure they’ve caught on to the AT-AT Walker-sized elephant in the room: you are very much into their friend. In a very Not-On-The-Clock appropriate way. 

Now, you watch as Hansol makes his way over to you, dodging people who stop to talk to him. He seems pretty determined to reach you, clapping someone on the shoulder and moving them aside to continue his journey to you. 

Your stomach flips when he sits on the arm of your couch, perched perfectly next to you. He looks good today, dressed in jeans, a soft looking tee and a flannel. The backwards hat does wonders for you - which you will not be psychoanalyzing now - and his black frame glasses. 

“How did you do all this?” He asks, shaking his head in wonder. “I just… what?” 

“It wasn’t easy, but it worked, right?”

“Is this the presentation you’ve been working on all week?”

“Yes. Please don’t be mad at me for lying.”

He laughs. “I couldn’t be mad at you if I tried.” 

An argument breaks out over cards, Chan and Mingyu yelling at each other about someone cheating. Hansol winces at the noise and you scoot a little closer to avoid the deck of cards Mingyu throws in Chan’s direction.

“Is there anywhere quiet we can talk?” Hansol asks, though he’s laughing at them. “They’re giving me a bit of a headache.” 

You grin. “For sure.” 

Getting up, you lead Hansol down the hall to your bedroom, which is off limits to the rest of the party. The good thing about adult festivities is that no one is a weirdo about going into rooms they shouldn’t, staying exactly where it’s appropriate to be. 

Shutting the door behind you, the noise of the party dies down immediately. It’s dark in your room, save for the single lamp burning in the corner at a low setting. You realize it’s a bit messy, apologizing to Hansol as you kick clothes out of the way. You hadn’t intended on bringing him in here, and suddenly the implication of Hansol standing in your room tingles down your spine. 

“I, uh-” You stammer, looking at him. “Sorry it’s a mess. I didn’t intend on anyone seeing this.”

Halloween yowls, getting up off your bed. Hansol makes a surprised sound and you apoogize again, “It’s just Halloween. He likes to sleep in here. Out, kitty!”

You open the door and Halloween bolts out, going to find Seungkwan who will give him snacks. 

Hansol grins and wanders over to the bookshelf, looking over the titles. You take a few steps to follow him but keep your distance, suddenly very nervous. He points his finger at a title and looks at you, inviting you to step closer to read it in the dim light. 

You recognize the title - you’d bought it the day you’d crashed into him and got some of your books mixed up. 

“This one one of the books you accidentally swapped with me,” Hansol notes, running his finger along the spine. You zero in on his finger - his hands, in general. They’re pretty. You swallow hard, looking up at the ceiling instead. “Have you read it yet?” 

“Not yet. I started one of the others but I’ve been having trouble breeding - reading lately.”

Hansol presses his lips together in a flat line and you can tell he’s trying not to laugh at you. Warmth floods your face and you want to die on the spot, especially when he turns to face you head on, leaning against your bookcase. 

His eyes are dark, drinking you in. Your pulse skyrockets, thinking about that quick kiss he had given you the other night. It’s all you’ve been able to think about, too afraid to ask him if it was just for show and too busy trying to plan this party to work out what to say about it.

Now, alone in your room, the questions fizzle on your tongue at the nearness of him. 

“Thank you,” Hansol says eventually. “For planning this. I… would never have expected you to do that.”

“I wanted to celebrate you.”

He blushes, ducking his head. “It’s sweet. It did make me nervous, though.” 

“Why?”

“I thought you were avoiding me, kind of.”

You blink. “Why on earth would I be doing that?”

“Thought that maybe I took it too far with the kiss.” 

“No. You didn’t.” 

Hansol’s gaze falls on you. It’s razor sharp and there’s something there, burning just under the surface. You swear it’s something like desire, but you’re too afraid to name it. Too worried that it’s just what you want reflected in his glassy gaze, and not his. 

Then, “Did I not take it far enough?” 

The question hangs in the air. You cannot hear anything but the pounding of  your own heart. It’s just Hansol in this dark room with you, looking at you with exactly the same hunger that’s been churning in your gut. 

You don’t know when this hunger started. All you know is that the last few weeks, it’s been there. Every time you look at him you feel it ignite, the desire so raw that you don’t know what to do with it. 

Now, you know he feels it too - see it, in the way he waits for your answer. Patient. Calm. Steady.

“On the clock?” You ask, voice shaky. He shakes his head no. “You could go further.” 

That’s all Hansol needs. He’s gentle when he reaches for you, cradling your face in his hands. You barely get to suck in a trembling breath before he’s kissing you.

This kiss is entirely different from the peck he gave you in the parking lot last weekend. This kiss steals the breath from your lung, his mouth confident and sure as he slots his mouth against yours. He smells like the sea, all driftwood and salt and his lips taste like the tangy drink he’d been sipping on earlier.

Everything else fades to the background. Your hands twist in his flannel. It’s soft, but nothing compared to the softness of Hansol’s tongue as he licks at the seam of your lips. You let him in and he groans, pulling you in impossibly closer as the kiss turns more desperate.

You melt. He kisses you hungrily now, sucking your tongue into his mouth. It makes your head spin, the party long forgotten as you press further into him. The bookshelf wobbles under the weight of both of you leaning against it, making you break, both of you panting.

Hansol’s mouth shines with your spit in the low lamp light and you have the urge to lean forward and lick it. You resist, only for him to give into his urge. He leans forward, tongue pressing to the corner of your mouth gently. 

“What about now?” he mumbles, voice muffled against your mouth. “Too far?”

“No.”

He makes a sound in the back of his throat, hands dropping to your waist. You let him grip you, backing you up toward your bed. It’s a bit clumsy but you don’t care, hands looping around his neck to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want,” Hansol mumbles. Your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall backward. He follows you, caging you in with both of his planted on either side of your head. “Tell me how far you want me to go.” 

“On the clock?”

“Fuck no. Nothing I want to do right now is on the clock.”

“Good. I want you to go as far as you want.”

He drops his mouth to your neck. A moan slips between your lips when you feel his tongue scrape across the soft skin of your throat. He sounds strained when he says, “You gotta tell me, baby. I need to know what you want.”

“You.” It’s the most honest thing you’ve said all month. “All of it. Everything. But for real.” 

Hansol nods. He presses messy, wet kisses up your neck, along your jaw, stopping at your mouth. His nose nudges yours and he smiles against your lips, giving you a chaste peck. “You’ve got me. For real.” 

Grinning, you slide your hands underneath his shirt. He moans, throaty and delicious. He twitches under your exploration but he lets you brush your palms up the warmth of his stomach, reaching around until your hands are gripping his lower back. 

His mouth attaches to yours again. The kiss is messy and addictive, Hansol filling your senses as he lowers himself so that his weight is rested on top of you. It’s comforting and wanted, your knees squeezing his hips to hold him in place. 

One of his hands leaves the mattress to drop to your hip, squeezing before he scratches his nails against your thigh. You shiver, feeling the stimulation through your jeans. His hand slips under you, gripping the curve of your ass to lift you a little, pressing you closer to him.

A moan slips through your mouth to his when he rolls your hips against him. The stimulation isn’t remotely enough but you like this version of Hansol. His touch is confident, his lips intentful as they leave a trail from your mouth to your collarbone. 

With one last squeeze to your ass, Hansol traces his fingers over the tops of your thigh to drop between your legs. He presses his fingers to the apex of your thighs, working you through your clothes. You let out a desperate sound and you feel the way he smiles against your skin. 

His touch sparks a flame. You tear at his flannel, peeling it from his shoulders. He helps you get it off of him but he’s just as eager to peel you out of your jeans and shirt. A deep curse leaves his mouth when he sees you in just a bra and underwear, your chest heaving as you pant, staring up at him, mouth swollen and tender. 

Reaching for him, you grab the hat and throw it. “Hat is very hot,” you admit. “But I wanted to do this.” 

You slide your fingers in his hair, curling them through the strands to tug him back to you. He smiles into the kiss, tangling his tongue with yours. His hand skims up your thigh, fingers leaving a trail of goosebumps as he goes until he slides his hand back between your legs.

A gasp leaves you as he presses his fingers back to your cunt, pressing the fabric into your aching clit. He whispers a string of curses when he feels how damp you are, resting his forehead against your shoulder for a moment as he teases you over your panties.

“Please,” you whisper, hips rising off the bed. “Want more.”

“Mhmm.” He lifts his head and gives you a quick kiss to the cheek. “I’ve got you.”

Hansol doesn’t make you beg. You like that about him. Your breath catches when he drops to his knees, reaching his arm up to pull the back of his shirt over his head, tossing it. The sight of him between your knees in just jeans, his hair mussed and mouth swollen is enough to make you dizzy.

You prop yourself up on your elbows, watching with hooded eyes as Hansol grabs you by the calves, spreading you a little more. His hands are gentle and warm, rubbing up and down while he takes his time pressing a myriad of kisses up the right side of your inner thigh. 

It feels so good. Your lashes flutter a little, breath coming in quicker. Everywhere his mouth touches tingles, a little path of buzzing electricity as he makes his way closer and closer to your heat until he switches sides.

You make a sound of protest and Hansol looks up at you through his lashes, grinning. He looks smug, leaning forward to bite your thigh playfully. It stings but it feels good, making your fingers twist in the sheets. 

“Feel good?” he whispers, pressing his tongue to soothe the sting. You nod, mouth parted, unable to speak. He smiles again, dragging his tongue down your thigh. You think you might die right there. 

Hansol makes his way back up. He drags his burning gaze up to meet yours, deliberately making eye contact as he presses the flat of his tongue against your underwear. If it wasn’t soaked before, it is thoroughly drenched now. You suck in a sharp breath, knees closing on instinct to squeeze against his shoulders.

He chuckles, dragging his tongue upward where it presses against your clit momentarily. He brings one of his hands up, pressing his middle finger right against your hole. You feel yourself clench around nothing and you know he knows, his grin wicked. 

"What do you like?"

"I... don't know."

He looks at you, pausing. "You don't know? Like what makes you come?" You shake your head and realization lights his eyes. "That jackass didn't make you come, did it?"

You shake your head and he groans.

“Don’t worry,” Hansol promises with another languid lick to the soaked fabric. “I will make up for all the times you didn’t get to come.” 

“Fuck.”

Vernon (from IT) has been replaced with Hansol (the Menace). He hooks a finger in the crotch of your underwear, pulling them to the side. He drags a knuckle against your pussy on purpose, both of you groaning in unison. 

Eagerly Hansol leans forward, giving you a teasing lick. Your fingers dig into the mattress anyway. You can do nothing but stare at him, watching the way Hansol drags his dark eyes up to watch you as he drags his tongue through your folds again. 

“Shit,” you hiss at him, a shiver wracking your body.

He seems pleased, shooting you a quick smile before he brings his mouth to you again, sucking gently. He avoids your clit at first, working you up slowly. Hansol eats you out like he has all the time in the world, like there’s no where he would rather be than tonguing your pussy. 

It drives you mad, his name slipping from your lips in little gasps. His tongue circles your clit, applying pressure indirectly, working you up and up until finally, he closes his mouth around the throbbing bundle of nerves, suckling. 

“Ohhhh,” you laugh, half delirious. “That. Whatever that is.” 

He hums, parting only to say, “You got it.” 

You see God when he fastens his mouth to you, sucking your clit gently. Dropping back against the bed, you twitch and gasp under Hansol’s ministrations. He sets a rhythm, adding his fingers to the mix as they press against your entrance. He doesn’t push in, but rather traces a pattern, making you squeeze. 

Panting, you drop a hand to his hair. He hums in delight as you tangle your fingers in the strands, bringing him closer to your cunt. You feel like you’re burning up, your sheets sticking to your skin, the room spinning as Hansol eats you out in earnest now. 

No one has ever seemed this dedicated to your pleasure. He doesn’t let up for a second, fingers and mouth working in tandem to bring you to a cliff of insanity. All you have to do is jump and dive head first into an orgasm. 

You do. Hansol works you right to the very edge and you topple over, falling into it hard. You go taught but he holds you down, fighting your spasm as you come hard. He doesn’t miss a beat, the obscene sounds of him slurping at you drowning out the pitiful, high pitched whine that leaves you. 

In a wave of exhaustion, your orgasm subsides. You flop on the bed, still shaking as he removes his mouth in favor of pressing slick, cum-stained kisses to your thighs. You lift your head and his eyes meet yours, flashing wickedly. 

He pauses, looking at your wet, messy cunt back to your face. “Want a taste?”

Hansol (the Menace) is going to kill you.

You nod and he smirks. He runs his tongue generously up your pussy, making sure to dip into your entrance just a little before he stands up and leans over you to press a filthy kiss to your mouth. You suck at his tongue greedily, tasting yourself and him, a combination you’ll never get tired of. 

One of his hands snakes up to your chest, tweaking a nipple gently, testing the waters. You nod, breaking the kiss with a gasp, “Yeah.” 

“Gonna work you open with my fingers,” he slurs. He kisses down your neck again, working his way to your chest. “That okay?”

“More than okay.” 

“God,” he whispers. “You sound so fucking good when you come. Want to hear it again.” 

There is no doubt he will. Hansol rids you of your bra before returning to suck greedily at your chest. Your nails bite into his shoulders, dragging down his sides as he presses a finger into your warmth. 

“God damn,” he laughs. He plucks at a nipple with his teeth and you curse. “You’re so fucking wet.” 

“On the clock?”

“Fuck no. My finger is in your pussy.”

“I am really turned on.”

He gives your other breast a playful bite. “Good. Now I want you to come apart on my fingers.” 

That won’t be an issue. Hansol gets you there embarrassingly fast. He finds the sensitive spot inside of you with ease and doesn’t hold back, pressing another finger in. He works you toward another orgasm like it's easy - and maybe for the both of you, it is. Maybe Hansol was meant to have you like this, gushing around his fingers and babbling nonsense as you come again, his mouth pressed against your hammering heart. 

Maybe he was meant to have you fucked out and light-headed by the time you’re helping him out of his jeans, sliding his briefs down his muscular thighs to free his cock. The tip is dark and sticky, weeping with precum when he pins you to the bed, catching you in a bruising kiss.

Gone is the patient Hansol who had started with gentle kisses to your thighs, replaced by his need to have you. To consume you. You let him, willing to let him do whatever he wants. You want his pleasure just as much as he wants yours, slipping your hand between your bodies to palm his cock, heavy and warm in your hand.

He whispers your name and it sounds like a prayer. His forehead presses against yours, letting you pump him slowly. His hips twitch as though he’s fighting to control himself, letting you have your fun before he growls and grabs your hand, lacing your fingers to pin above your head. 

Hansol scoots you up the bed, putting you where he wants you. Gone is the sweet guy from IT, replaced with whatever this is. You like this side of him equally, listening to him when he asks you to lift your hips so he can slide a pillow under your ass.

With a kiss to your brow that feels sweeter than the moment allows for, Hansol lifts your leg, prying you open for him. His cock is heavy against your cunt and he ruts a little, making you both whine in tandem. 

“You still want this, right?” He asks, voice shaking. “For real?”

“Yes.” You squeeze the hand he has laced with yours, pinned to the mattress near your head. “On the clock. Off the clock. Literally all of the hours.” 

“What if I refuse to change your computer password?”

That makes you laugh. He gives you a glowing smile, kissing the tops of your cheekbones. “Even then,” you promise. 

“Good. Try breathing for me when you come this time.” You give him a look and he smiles. “Did you think you were done? I told you I was making up for lost time.” 

He doesn’t give you a second to retort, his cock pressing in at that exact moment. “Ohhh you fucker,” you moan and he laughs, which makes things worse. You squeeze around him hard, barely breathing as Hansol slides in to the hilt, the pressure and stretch divine. “You did that on purpose.”

“I did,” he admits before trapping you into an uncoordinated kiss. 

With one hand holding yours to the bed and the other sliding under your ass to help lift you with the pillow, Hansol sets a slow pace. You continue to kiss him, just as slow as he fucks you. He is deep, cock brushing against your g-spot on every upstroke. 

Your free hand slides to his lower back, urging him to keep going. His tempo is measured, perfect, the angle of his hips just right. You start to feel insane, mumbling his name, whining between kisses, making a pathetic noise when he increases his pace. 

Hansol fucks like he knows exactly how you like it. Of course he does. Even from the moment in that bookstore, he had you figured out. No one else has been able to adjust to you like he has, no one else has been able to understand - to see you. 

“Fuck,” he hisses when you start squeezing on him for harder and longer. He’s pushing you toward that edge again, so close you’re already seeing stars. “Pussy feels so good.” 

He shuffles up the bed more, folding you a little. You make a wild sound, gasping as the angle pushes his cock in deep. “Holy shit, Hansol.” 

“That the spot?” he asks, and you nod. He starts fucking you in earnest, pace picking up. “God damn I could do this all day.” 

“Keep doing that and I’ll let you.”

He laughs and kisses you again, all tongue and teeth. You start to spasm, feeling the way your muscles clench as you near your third orgasm. This one is tight in your stomach, a pressure that is so compact you feel like you’re going to combust.

“Breathe through it,” he reminds you, out of breath as he chases your high. “You can do that, yeah?”

You nod, saving your breath for when he tells you to use it. 

A few more hard strokes and you’re doing exactly as instructed, taking in a deep breath as your orgasm hits. You see white, shaking underneath Hansol as the warmth of your high blooms in your lower stomach and expands. It’s better than the first two, stretching longer, the feeling reaching to your toes. 

You manage to breathe all the way through it, barely hanging on as he fucks you through the entire length of your high. He presses his mouth to your temple, slowing his pace to let you recover. You feel melted, like your bones and muscles have all gone on vacation, leaving Hansol to do the work for you.

“Good?” he asks, breath fanning your face.

You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close. “You,” you mumble. It’s not a complete sentence, but he gets what you mean, kissing you quickly before chasing his own high, gritting his teeth. 

As spent as you are, you do your part to help him get there, squeezing with what strength you have left, whispering his name, pulling him in close with a leg around his hip. It works, sending Hansol over the edge and spilling into you within a few seconds. 

He curses into your shoulder, pace turning sloppy until he finally stops, hips pressed to yours, cock sheathed to the hilt. Both of you stay like that, trying to catch your breath in a sweaty pile of limbs.

Hansol recovers first, shifting so that he can lay next to you. He pulls out, a mess of cum and fluid going with him. You don’t care, rolling to your side to kiss him slowly. Softly. He rests an arm over your hip, keeping you connected. 

“This is a great birthday,” he jokes, voice hoarse. “I uhhh, forgot there was a party. No one will think we’re fake dating now.” 

You grin. “Whatever. We’re not on the clock.” 

He kisses you again. “Thank god. Cause I really want to do this again in fifteen minutes.”

You smile, really glad that Hansol (the Boyfriend) is on the same page as you.

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[vernonverse]

VIRGIN NIGHT ✶ Chwe Vernon

SYNOPSIS. There’s a killer hunting virgins in the city. And when you realize you could be next, you turn to the one person you trust most to help you stay alive: your best friend, Vernon.

GENRE | TAGS. Oneshot, non idol!au, friends to... (?), psychological horror, thriller, smut.

WC. 7.1k+

RATING. Explicit adult content (MINORS DNI).

WARNINGS. Ambiguous/open ending, explicit sexual content, consensual non-consent, virginity loss, psychological distress, gore/violence mentions, murder references, manipulation, stalking, fear, dark themes, dry humping, nipple play, dirty talk, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pussy eating, cum eating, multiple orgasms, lots of teasing, unprotected sex (you know it’s bad), creampie, aftercare.

AN. This is probably the most spontaneous writing I've had in the last few days, I literally sat down and wrote after DAYS without writing anything. But this is very different from anything I've ever posted here, so please make sure you've read all the warnings. Dividers credit.

READ ON AO3

The sirens hadn’t stopped in three days. They echoed through the streets, cutting through the air unmercifully. What was likely one of the most shocking and tragic events in the city’s history was now being called The Virgin Massacre by the news. Every victim had been found the same way, same pattern, same mark carved into their skin. 

The whole city was locking doors, lighting candles, closing their curtains, praying that superstition might save their daughters. Meanwhile, you were making your way home after a 12-hour shift with the rain falling relentlessly and cold, turning the streets into a blur of reflections, red lights bleeding into puddles, the wind carrying the sound of distant sirens and the bustling city. 

You put your coat tighter around you, hurrying down the block, your shoes clicking on the wet pavement. It was late — too late — and you cursed yourself for staying behind at the café. You’d promised Vernon and your mom earlier you’d head straight home after work, but the manager had begged you to help close up. 

Now you were paying for it with every step echoing through the nearly empty street.

Your breath came out shallow bursts. The air smelled like rain and fear, one that had settled over the entire city since the murders began. Every news alert, every whisper online said the same thing: the victims were all virgins. 

At first, you’d laughed it off, thinking it was all a rumor. But tonight, when you saw the police cars two streets away and the white sheet covering another girl’s body, virgin scrawled across the wall beside her in a deep, bleeding red, the joke stopped being funny. 

You pulled your phone from your pocket and hit Hansol’s name. One ring. Two. Three. 

“Pick up, pick up, come on,” you muttered under your breath, glancing over your shoulder. The street should've been empty at these hours, but there was a tall figure walking a few steps behind, the heavy rain blurring the face of whoever it was.

“Peach?” Vernon’s voice finally came through the other line, rough, sleepy, calling you by the nickname he gave you ages ago. 

“Hansol,” you exhaled in relief, voice trembling, “I think someone’s following me.”

“What?”

Your pace quickened. You turned a corner, splashing through puddles as you increased the speed. “I just left work. There is a man and he’s been behind me since the main street. I looked back, and he–”

Another sound cut you off. This time, of a foot falling into a puddle. A loud gasp escaped you, but not loud enough to be a scream.

“Y/N, where are you right now?” Vernon’s tone was serious, more than you ever heard him sounding. You scanned your surroundings until your eyes landed on a street sign and you told him. “Run. Don’t look back. I’m coming. Keep me on the line.”

The phone slipped slightly in your shaking hand as you ran. Your breath tore at your lungs, the rain stinging your face. You could hear the rhythm of footsteps matching yours getting closer by the way they echoed through the street. You darted across the street, heart hammering against your ribs, keys already in your palm. You could see your building now, just a block away. 

“Hansol,” you whispered into your phone, “I think he’s still there.”

“I’m almost there, peach.”

Something darted behind you, a shadow slicing across the glow of the streetlamp. You screamed and bolted, fumbling with your keys. Finally, you dashed inside the building and raced up the stairs without a glance back, footsteps chasing you, hurried and heavy. Somehow, you made it to your apartment, slamming into the door. Your hands shook too violently to fit the key. 

The steps were already on your floor when you jammed the key into the lock, shoved the door open, and slammed it shut. One, two, three locks clicked into place at record speed, your chest heaving as you pressed yourself against the door, trying to get your pulse back under control.

Silence. Except for your heart roaring in your ears.

You pressed your back against the door, chest rising and falling too fast. Your hands were numb, your hair dripping down your neck, your body was shaking from head to toe. You watched through the peephole the hallway light flickered once, twice, before steadying again. 

You don't know how long you’d stayed there until a knock came through. You nearly screamed when you heard his voice. 

“Y/N?”

You yanked the door open to find Vernon there completely drenched, breathless, eyes wild. He must have ran straight over. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping inside before you could answer. His hands cupped your face checking you over for bruises, or any way you could be hurt.

“I don’t know,” you managed to say, voice shaking. “I think he followed me here.”

Hearing this, Vernon locked the door, double-checked the windows, the rooms and closets of your apartment, then turned back to you, who was sitting on the living room floor now, your knees pressed against your chest and your head buried in your arms, body still trembling, although you didn't know if it was from fear or cold anymore.

You couldn’t believe you’d almost been killed tonight. Killed because you were a virgin. A twenty-something virgin, but a virgin nonetheless. And now you were at risk of being killed because you'd never had sex. How ironic was life?

It’s not like you planned on being a virgin forever. It wasn’t even your desire, it just hadn’t happened before because you’d never felt that way with any guy. Well, there was one guy that you felt that way, but you didn't think he’d look at you that way.

You heard his footsteps echoing through the silent apartment until he knelt in front of you, trying to lift your head to look at him. “Hey. You’re safe now. I’m here.”

You nodded, though the words didn’t reach you. Your body was trembling so hard you could barely stand, your thoughts working a million miles an hour. Vernon guided you toward the couch, wrapping you in a blanket, crouching in front of you again. 

“What exactly happened?” he asked softly. 

“I saw him. Dark jacket, hood up, red mask. I thought I was being paranoid, but then he started walking faster when I did. And when I ran…” you swallowed hard, tears forming in the corners of your eyes as your brain slowly processed the seriousness of the situation, “he ran too.”

Vernon’s jaw tightened. You knew that was the way he showed he was angry. “Did you see his face?”

You shook your head. “No. But…” you hesitated, lowering your voice. “The police found another victim near the coffee house. She was my age. And–”

“And she was a virgin,” he finished grimly.

Tears were now falling down your cheeks uncontrollably without you even noticing, your lower lip trembling with the same intensity. “I’m scared.”

He reached out, taking your cold hands in his. “You’re safe now. I promise.”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head and letting more tears fall down. “You can’t promise that.”

Vernon really wanted to argue, but something about the fear in your eyes stopped him. Instead, he just said, “So you’ll come stay with me at my place. We don’t know if he might still be out there.”

Outside, thunder rolled, rattling the windows so hard it made you flinch. 

“Okay.”

“Another young woman has been brutally murder tonight,” the stern-faced reporter announced into a microphone. “The killer is still at large. Citizens are urged to stay indoors and lock their doors.” 

You sat curled on Vernon’s couch, your knees pressed tightly to your chest. It was already the third night you’d spent at his apartment, too scared to be on your own, not that he’d let you go, anyway. He’d been the one to invite you to stay, and now you were practically quarantined together, hadn’t stepped outside in days, hadn’t even ordered food, terrified that the next delivery man could be him.

During this time, two more girls were murdered, and the pattern only grew clearer and clearer. Vernon had already begged you multiple times to stop watching the news, to stop feeding your fear, but you couldn’t help yourself. The anxiety would come either way, whether you knew what was happening or not.

You watched the news attentively and didn’t speak until the reporter’s voice faded completely. 

“Hansol,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around your body, “these girls were about our age.”

He looked up from where he stood by the window, watching the rain. His jaw flexed. “I know.”

You swallowed hard, twisting the string of your sweater between your fingers. “All the victims… they were all virgins. I am too.”

The living room went quiet as you turned off the TV, leaving only the low hum of the storm outside. When he didn’t say anything, you glanced away from the dark reflection on the screen to his face. His eyes were tired, red around the edges. 

Just as you, Vernon hadn’t slept either, helping you whenever you woke up in the middle of the night, shaken from another nightmare of being followed. He'd talk to you until your breathing evened out again. And knowing him the way you did, it wouldn’t surprise you to learn he stayed awake afterward, just sitting there in the dark, keeping watch until morning.

You’d been best friends since middle school, inseparable, always there for each other when things got bad. And now things were worse than they’d ever been.

“Peach–” he started, but you cut him off. 

“I don’t want to die, Hansol.”

He froze at the sound of your voice. Having known you his whole life, Vernon could always tell when fear was real, and this time, it was. The tremor in your tone said more about your vulnerability than any tears ever could.

“You’re not going to die.”

“You don’t know that.” Your voice cracked. Vernon's adam's apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed, unsure how to calm you when he was barely keeping it together himself. “Every single person who–who died was like me. I was almost one of them, and I don’t want to be next. I can’t just wait here for–” you stopped yourself, shaking your head like you could chase away the fear. You met his eyes again. “You’re the only one I trust.”

It was now or never. You’d been stewing over this idea for days, ever since you started staying here with him. Not that it was a new thought; if you were being honest, it had been simmering in the back of your mind for a while. But given the circumstances, this felt like the perfect moment to finally summon the courage to say what you’d been holding in for so long. At least now, you had an excuse.

You got up from the couch, moving slowly, and Vernon’s eyes stayed on you. “Peach, what are you saying?”

“There’s one way I won’t fit the pattern.”

“Okay, and how do you plan on—” He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning as you bit your lip and got closer to him. “Oh no. No, no, no, no, no. You can’t possibly mean that—”

You tugged nervously at the sleeve of his Star Wars shirt. “I do. You’re the only person I trust, Hansolie.”

The way you said his name — soft, pleading — made him shut his eyes tight, as if that could block out the look he knew you were giving him. 

“Peach.” His laugh came out nervous and strangled. “That’s not exactly what they teach you in self-defense.”

“I’m not joking, Hansol.” 

“I know you’re not, that’s the worst part.” He ran a hand down his face, trying to process it, heart suddenly going a mile per minute inside his chest, and it most definitely wasn’t because of the thought and fear that there was a killer on the loose. “Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Yes,” you said quickly. “And I’ve been thinking about it since the second murder. It’s logical.”

“Y/N, it’s insane.”

“Maybe.” You shrugged helplessly. “But it might save my life. Do you really want to be without a best friend?”

His eyes searched yours, to see if this wasn't a very nasty prank you were playing on him. “So you want me to–”

“Take my virginity, yeah,” you murmured, tugging lightly at his sleeve again. Your voice held a mix of courage and certainty he was sure he’d never seen before. Still, your eyes gave away the spark of nerves beneath it.

Vernon’s brain blue-screened. Like, there’s just no way this was his real real life. Either he accidentally overdosed on coffee or he’s straight-up dreaming, because the girl he’s been low-key simping for since forever – his very own best friend, the one he never had the nerve to even flirt with — could not have just proposed that to him. Maybe he was overtired. Maybe the world glitched for a second. Vernon didn’t know. 

He opened his mouth to argue, but his heart was hammering so fast now it drowned out his thoughts. “Why me, peach?”

“Like I said, I trust you the most.” Your voice softened. “And because you won’t make it weird.” 

“Make it?” He barked out a nervous laugh. “This is already super weird.”

You gave him a look that was somehow both terrified and amused. “Would it help if I said I actually like you?”

It was always funny to hear people say your best friend was a man of few expressions. To you, he was the most expressive person you knew, people just never paid close enough attention to him like you did. Right now was one of these examples, when Vernon’s eyes looked like they might pop out of their sockets, his eyebrows threatened to touch his hairline, and his mouth hung open in shock.

“Like me? Like–like me like me?”

“Hansol, we’re not in middle school,” you said, rolling your eyes with a mix of amusement and exasperation.

“I just need to confirm which level of insanity we’ve reached tonight!”

You smiled faintly despite the situation. “You’re cute when you panic.” 

He was pretty sure his soul left his body for a second. “You can’t just say stuff like that right before asking to… to...”

“To help me not get murdered?” you finished bluntly. “Not die a virgin?”

He groaned, dragging his hands down his face again and crossing the living room trying to get some space so his head could finally fully function. It was funny that for someone who was usually a thinker, he was doing it very little and with very low performance right now.

“You’re actually unbelievable.”

“Am I wrong?” you challenged, crossing your arms. “If you say no, I’ll just ask someone else."

He snapped his head up. “Excuse me?”

“I mean, if it’s about our friendship, I get it. But I don’t exactly have time to be picky right now.”

“And who else would you ask such a thing?”

“I mean, there's Chan and–”

“Don’t—don’t even joke about that,” he cut you off mid-sentence, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d swear there was something possessive in the way he looked at you. “You’re not asking anyone else.”

You sighed. “Then say yes.”

“Peach,” he warned, voice low, but you didn’t flinch, walking towards him again.

“Hansol, I’m scared.” Your voice broke then. “And you’ve always protected me. Every single time something bad happened, you were there.”

You sounded scared, yes. But layered beneath it were a thousand other unspoken things, suggestive things, that made his chest tighten at the possibility. It was impossible to reconcile them with the fact that you were his best friend, the one person he knew wasn’t supposed to be needy for him. Except maybe you actually were.

Vernon met your eyes, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke, just stared at each other. The storm roared outside, but in that tiny apartment, the only sound was your uneven breathing, your chest rising and falling, his mind going around in circles. 

“Tell me this isn’t just fear talking,” he said finally.

“It’s not.” You took a shaky breath. “I’ve been in love with you since we were sixteen, Hansol.”

His world tilted slightly. “You pick now to tell me that?”

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have a deadline.”

He laughed under his breath, but it wasn’t funny, more disbelief, panic, and affection tangled together. Vernon stepped closer, hardly believing he was really doing this, until the space between you was almost nonexistent.

You both stood there for a moment, caught in an awkward silence, hands hanging uselessly at your sides. Vernon could feel the tension buzzing in the air between you. Someone had to do something. And it had to be him. He was supposed to be the one guiding you through this, because it was your first time. If he hesitated any longer, you might rethink everything, maybe even walk over to Chan’s place instead. And that thought alone was enough to make him move.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice gentler now, breathing hitting your face. “If I do this, it’s not just some survival plan. I don’t want to be something you regret.”

Your eyes softened as you shook your head. “I won’t. I could never regret you.”

Vernon exhaled shakily, unable to believe this was really happening. “You sure?” he asked, searching your face for any signs of hesitation again. There wasn’t any. 

You nodded without wavering. “Im sure. I want this, and I want it with you.”

Slowly, like he was afraid you’d change your mind, he lifted a hand to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. Your skin was soft and warm beneath his fingertips, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut at the gentleness of the touch. 

“You’re  beautiful,” he murmured, leaning in closer until you could feel the heat of his breath on your face. “And I don’t want you to ever forget that.”

His words made your heart skip a beat, and you felt a flush spread across your cheeks. You’d never thought you’d hear those words from him, especially not in this context. But now that you were finally giving in to what you’d both been feeling for so long, it felt right. 

“Kiss me, Hansol.” Your voice came out in an almost desperate whisper.

“Now?”

You opened your eyes, finding that teasing curve already on his lips. Once a ragebaiter, always a ragebaiter. “Well, it could be tomorrow, but I kind of have a deadline here and—”

He didn’t let you finish. His hands came up, cupping your face, and then his lips were on yours. 

It was slow and explorative at first, his mouth moving against yours like he was trying to memorize the taste and feel of you. You melted into him instantly, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt just to keep yourself from turning into a puddle on the floor. His hands slid down your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, while your arms wrapped around his neck, deepening the kiss until your tongues met. 

The soft sound that escaped your lips made him groan low in his throat, a sound that vibrated between you. The heat of him slipped through his clothes, too much and not enough at once, leaving you aching to close the distance that still existed between you. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, to explore every inch of him the way you’d always fantasized about.

As if sensing your need, Vernon began to guide you toward the hallway that led to his room, his lips never leaving yours while his hands traveled through your body. It wasn’t hurried, but desperate in a quieter way, exactly as you’d expected kissing Vernon to be, and somehow, even better.

Halfway there, he pressed you against the wall, breaking the kiss to trail his lips down your neck. Your head fell back, giving him freer access, while your breaths came in ragged gasps and small moans slipped from your lips. Vernon’s mouth trailed lower, past the collar of your shirt, his hands gripping your waist and fingers digging into the soft flesh as he held you against the wall. 

You could feel every inch of him pressed against you, and it made your head spin with desire, fingers clenched to his sleeve like your life depended on it. 

“Hansol,” you whimpered, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Please.”

He looked up at you then, eyes dark with lust. “What do you need, peach?” he murmured, voice low and rough. “Huh?”

“I need you,” you breathed, arching into him. “I need to feel you.”

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry.”

His hands slid lower, gripping your hips and lifting you effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling his hard length pressed against your core through the thin fabric of your clothes. Another moan slipped past your lips at the sensation, your hips rolling instinctively to seek more friction. 

You had made out with other guys before, sure – some good, some forgettable — but none of them had ever felt like this. Nothing had ever felt like having Vernon pressed against you, making your pulse trip over itself. Everything outside this apartment could disappear and you didn’t even care. The fear, the sirens, the headlines, it all burned into nothing. 

Your mind erased the fact that there was a killer out there. That you’d almost been one of his victims just three nights ago. All you could think about was him: the warmth of him, the feeling of him, the way everything narrowed down to just him.

Vernon carried you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him before lowering you onto the bed. His body followed, fitting naturally over yours as if it had always belonged there. His lips found yours again, hungry, desperate, stealing the breath from your lungs, and your hands roamed over his back, fingers digging into the firm muscles as he rocked against you. He was rock hard and the friction was a delicious torture, bulding a pressure inside you until you actually thought you might combust just from drying humping him. 

Breaking the kiss apart, Vernon sat back on his heels, reaching for the hem of your shirt at the same time as he searched your face for any sign of hesitation. Slowly he pulled it up and over your head, tossing it aside before his eyes raked over your exposed skin. Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but you didn’t look away. You couldn’t. Not when he was looking at you like he wanted to devour every inch of you. 

“God, Y/N,” he breathed, his hands skimming up your sides, over the swell of your breasts. “You’re perfect.”

His thumbs brushed over your nipples through the thin lace of your bra, making your arch into his touch. Another whimper escaped your lips, your back bowing off the bed as he continued his teasing caresses. You ached for more, for his mouth on your skin, his hands on your body traveling to where you needed him the most.

“Please, Hansol,” you begged, not even caring how desperate you sounded. “Touch me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Vernon unhooked your bra and tossed it aside, his lips immediately latching onto the hardened peak. His tongue swirled around the sensitive bud, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your hand fisted in his hair, holding him in place while he lavished attention on your breasts. 

Your hips rocked against his, seeking more of that delicious friction you felt before. You could feel the dampness growing between your thighs, the evidence of your desire for him, and Vernon seemed to sense it too, one hand sliding down past the waistband of your sweatpants to palm you through your panties. You immediately cried out at the contact, your hips bucking into his touch. 

“Fuck,” he breathed, voice showing a hint of disbelief. His thumb brushed against your clit and you squirmed. “You’re so wet for me already.”

Slowly and tortuously, Vernon started to kiss down your stomach, with you writhing in anticipation under him. Suddenly, he paused and looked up at you with a mischievous grin that you knew so well. 

“Tell me peach,” he whispered against your skin, nose hovering just below your bellybutton, “have you ever touched yourself before?”

Your cheeks flushed hot at the question, and you averted your gaze shyly. “Maybe,” you admitted after a moment. 

Vernon chuckled, low and sultry, the sound sending shivers down your body. “And what did you think about when you did?” he pressed, fingers tracing patterns on your hip while he slowly pulled your sweatpants down. 

You bit your lip, hesitation warring with arousal. But the desire won out. “You,” you confessed. “I thought about you, Hansol.”

His gaze was locked on you, dark with an intensity that seemed to consume his entire face, like his lust and desire were swallowing the rest of him whole. “Fuck, Y/N. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

Rising from where he was, Vernon captured your lips again, his tongue delving into your mouth possessively. You moaned into the kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair again as he explored your mouth thoroughly. When he finally pulled away, you were both panting for breath. Still, he gazed down at you with a hunger that made your core clench with need.

“I’m going to make you feel so good, peach,” he promised, leaning down to trail another set of open mouthed kisses along your collarbone and down your breasts. “I’m going to worship every inch of you.”

“Please, Hansol.” His name came out in a moan this time, showing how desperate you were for whatever he was wheeling to give you. “I need you.”

He smiled against your skin, continuing his trail between your breasts, ignoring your pleas. You weren't surprised that Vernon was a tease; he was like that in every other aspect of his life, and now he was just making clear that he would take his sweet time with you, as if you were now his favorite pastime.

“Did you imagine my fingers doing this?” He cupped the soft mounds in his hands, squeezing gently while his thumbs massaged your nipples. “Squeezing and playing with your perfect tits?”

You gasped, arching into his touch. “Y-yes. I imagined your hands on me all the time.”

“Mmm, and what about my lips?” he continued, laving his tongue over one peaked nipple. “Did you think about my tongue circling these pretty buds?”

“Yes, yes I did.” You nodded, breathlessly, tangling your fingers in his hair again. “So many times.”

Vernon chuckled low at your desperation, moving down your body until he was nestled between your thighs. “And this pussy,” he growled, blowing a stream of cool air over your heated flesh. “Did you ever slide your fingers inside here, wishing it was my cock stretching you open?”

You cried out at his words, rocking your hips forward instinctively. “God yes,” you whimpered, letting him pull your panties down your legs at a torturously slow pace. “I imagined your cock splitting me open so many times, filling me up so good.”

At your words, he looked up at you grinning like a devil, before diving in and devouring your pussy like a man starved. You screamed in pleasure when Vernon’s tongue started to work magic on your clit, flicking, sucking and circling the sensitive nub until you were squirming beneath him.

“Fuck, you taste amazing. I could eat this sweet pussy for hours.”

You gasped, feeling his tongue delving deep inside you, lapping up your juices. Vernon feasted on your cunt like it was the first and last meal he’d ever have in his life, eating you out with a wild hunger you were sure you’ve never seen before. Then he slid a finger inside your dripping pussy, pumping it in and out while he sucked hard on your clit. 

“Did you touch yourself like this? Finger-fucking your tight little hole until you came hard?”

“Yes,” you sobbed, rolling your hips down to meet his face, thrusting on his finger. “I came so many times thinking about you doing this to me.”

“Mhmm, need to stretch you, peach,” he groaned against your slick folds, and you swore you could cum just from the deep, rumbling sound. “Gotta loosen up this tight little cunt so it can take my cock. Think you can handle another finger, baby?”

You moaned in response, feeling him slip a second finger alongside his tongue, pumping them slowly as he kept licking and sucking at your sensitive clit to ease it in. Your hands were now gripping his hair so tightly that you thought you’d tear some strands out when you had to remove them.

“That's it, nice and easy.” He worked a third finger inside you, stretching your tight walls as his tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit. “Fuck, you're so goddamn tight. Can't wait to bury my cock in this sweet cunt.”

You never would’ve imagined Vernon to be this vocal in a moment like this. But here he was, every word spilling from his lips only driving you further out of your mind. And all you could do was  moan and writhe beneath him in response, lost in the overwhelming pleasure he was giving to you.

“Tell me,” he continued, pulling back just enough to look up at you. “Tell me what you thought about me doing while you played with this pretty pussy.”

At this point you were too far gone to be ashamed. “I imagined your face between my thighs,” you admitted breathlessly. “Licking and sucking on my clit until I exploded.”

“And my cock? Did you imagine me fucking you hard and deep?” 

His fingers pumped faster, curling to rub against that secret special spot inside you as his lips closed around your clit and sucked hard. 

“God yes,” you moaned, without knowing how the words were managing to leave your lips. “I’d imagine you pounding into me, stretching me open with your cock.”

Vernon groaned loudly, doubling his efforts and fucking his fingers into you in earnest now. You hips bucked against him again and this time you didn't stop, moving uncontrollably against his face.

“I bet you thought about me painting your insides with my cum. Filling you up real nice.”

“Yes, yes!” you screamed, teetering on the edge now, your inner muscles clenching around his fingers. “I wanted it so badly! I need your cum inside me!”

“Then come for me, peach,” he ordered, pumping his fingers faster. “Come on my fingers and I’ll give you my cock.”

“Hansol,” you cried out, your orgasms building fast and hard. “I’m gonna–”

“Let go, baby. Come for me. Go on.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Your body convulsed around his fingers, your vision whiting out as your orgasm crashed over you in waves of pure bliss. Your pussy spasmed violently around his plunging digits, juices gushing out to coat his fingers and tongue. You screamed his name again and again, trembling and writhing beneath him, lost in ecstasy. 

Vernon lapped at your dripping folds, determined to lick up every drop of your essence. He didn’t stop until you were completely spent and trembling beneath him, your body going limp with satisfaction. When he finally resurfaced, his chin was slick with your juices. He brought his fingers to his mouth, slowly sucking them clean while locking eyes with you. The sight made your core clench with a sense of renewed desire. 

He crawled up your body, trailing up kisses, a grin on his face. “You look so fucking sexy like this. All sated and glowing from my touch.”

You blushed at the compliment, but your only response was a small whimper, still reeling from the intensity of your climax. Vernon chuckled softly, trailing his fingers up your body to cup your face and capture your lips in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. 

His weight settled on top of you, his hardness pressing against your still sensitive center. You could feel how much Vernon wanted you too, how much he was holding back, so you bucked your hips against his for the thousandth time tonight. 

“Please, Hansol,” you whispered against his lips, hands sliding down to palm him through his sweatpants. “I need you inside me.”

He groaned at your words, hips rocking into your touch. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

In response, you reached down and started pushing his pants down, pushing them and his boxers down just enough to free his cock. It sprang free, long and thick and already leaking at the tip. You wrapped your hand around him, giving him a slow stroke from base to tip, making Vernon close his eyes at the feeling. 

“I’m sure,” you breathed, stroking him again. “I want all of you.”

Vernon reached between your bodies, his hand enveloped yours as he grabbed his throbbing cock, rubbing the head through your slick folds. You gasped at the sensation, desperate for him to fill you up. 

You wrapped your legs around his hips almost instinctively, rocking your hips forward and making his cock slide easily between your slippery pussy. “Please. I need your cock inside me so bad.”

He gasped at the delicious sensation, positioning himself at your entrance. The blunt head of his cock pressed against your hole and you could feel yourself throbbing with anticipation.

“Last chance to back out,” he said, voice strained with restraint. His eyes searched yours, filled with heat and desire, but also a hint of caution. He wanted you to be sure.

“Don’t you dare.” You wrapped your arms around his neck, gripping his shoulders tightly to keep him there. “I want this. I want you.”

And with that, Vernon pushed inside you with one smooth thrust, filling you slowly. You gasped and cried out at the sudden sensation of fullness, your walls stretching deliciously around his thick length. It burned slightly at first, but it quickly morphed into a deep, aching pleasure. 

His head dropped to your shoulder. “Fuck yes. You feel incredible, peach. So hot and tight.”

You nodded, too overwhelmed by sensation to form words, but sharing the same feeling as him. Vernon began to move then, slowly at first letting you adjust to the intrusion. Each thrust pushed him deeper, almost hitting that sweet spot inside you that made your toes curl just minutes ago. 

“You can go faster,” you practically begged, nails digging into his back. “Please. 

He obliged, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back in, snapping his hips forward with more force and setting a steady rhythm. The new angle sent shivers shooting up your spine, your pussy clenching more and more around him.

You met each thrust with eager movements of your own hips, relishing the feeling of Vernon moving inside you. His breath came in ragged pants against your neck as he drove into you like his life depended on it, chasing not only his pleasure but yours too. 

“Harder,” you panted, raking your nails down his back. “Fuck me harder, Hansol!”

Vernon complied eagerly, pounding into you with renewed vigor. 

The room soon filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, your moans and gasps echoing off the walls. Vernon’s hand slid between your bodies, fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight circles on the overstimulated nub. The added stimulation sent you hurtling toward another peak, your body tightening like a coiled spring. 

“Come on, baby,” he encouraged, fingers working faster. “I want to feel you come around my cock now.”

He powered into you, chasing your releases with single-minded focus. Your own pleasure coiled tight in your belly, building higher and higher with each powerful stroke of his.

“Come with me, Y/N. Come on my cock, baby!”

Just like that, your second orgasm hit you like a freight train, clamping down around him like a vice, your body trembling enough to make your feet sink into his ass searching for steadiness.

“Where—where do you want me?” Vernon asked, his voice strained, and you could feel that he was almost there. 

“Inside, please,” you replied breathlessly, aching to feel him fill you completely.  “You can cum inside.”

He needed no further encouragement.

With a final, mighty thrust, Vernon buried himself to the hilt and came with a loud groan of completion, spilling deep inside you in long thick spurts. You continued to move beneath him, working him through his release until he collapsed on top of you in a boneless heap, careful not to crush you with his weight. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, pressing soft kisses to his sweat-dampened forehead. You stayed like that for a while, wrapped in each other as you tried to catch your breath, Vernon still buried deep inside you. After a moment, he lifted his head from the crook of your neck, his eyes shining the same way you imagined yours did.

“Hi,” he simply said, pressing a small kiss to the tip of your nose.

A slow smile spread across your face, and Vernon mirrored it back at you. In that moment everything else faded away; the fear, the danger lurking outside these four walls. There was just you and him. 

“Hi.”

Vernon kissed along your jaw and neck. “That was incredible. You’re incredible.”

You could only hum in agreement, still floating in the realization that the guy you’d loved for years loved you just the same. He pulled out slowly, a soft grimace crossing his face as his softening cock slipped free of your still-fluttering heat, his release spilling out of you.

“Come on,” he murmured, gathering you close and rolling to the side. “Let’s get cleaned up and then we can sleep.”

You nodded weakly, too sated to move just yet. Vernon pressed one more kiss to your forehead before untangling himself from you and sliding out of bed. You watched him walk to the bathroom, admiring the sight of his bare back. He returned a moment later with a damp towel, gently cleaning you up before tossing it aside and climbing back into bed. 

You got up to pee, and when you came back, Vernon pulled you into his arms, tucking your head beneath his chin and wrapping his legs around yours. You nestled into his embrace, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his chest.

He stroked your hair gently, pressing a kiss to the top of your head in return. “For what?”

“For being here. For making me feel safe.”

His arms tighten around you. “Always, peach. I’ll always keep you safe,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Sleep now. We can talk more in the morning.”

You nodded drowsily, already slipping under the covers. As you drifted off in his embrace, you couldn’t help but marvel at how perfectly you fit together. Being here with him felt like you were exactly where you were meant to be. And that knowledge brought a sense of profound peace and happiness to your heart.

Morning came softly, a pale, silver light slipping through the curtains of Vernon’s bedroom, like the world hadn’t almost ended in a downpour over the past three days. The storm had passed, leaving everything outside washed clean. The city felt quieter than it had in days, as if the air itself was holding its breath with fear. 

You woke first. Vernon was still asleep beside you, his arm loosely around your waist, the rise and fall of his chest slow, steady, peaceful. For the first time in weeks, you felt calm. The fear that had been gnawing at you was gone. There was no other place in the world where you felt as safe as you did with him.

You lay there for a moment, watching the soft light paint across his face, and smiled. He looked different like this, softer, younger. Beautiful. 

After a few minutes, you carefully slid out from under his arm, trying not to wake him. You wanted to make breakfast, something normal, something that didn’t smell like panic or sleepless nights. Maybe eggs, a french toast, maybe some orange juice. 

The apartment was cold under your bare feet as you padded toward the kitchen. You hummed under your breath, something small and tuneless. You opened the living room curtains, letting the sunlight you hadn’t seen in days stream into the apartment.”

“Morning,” you whispered to yourself, watching the streets below, already filled with cars and people going about their day.

You didn’t hear the creak of the other door until you turned to walk toward the kitchen again. 

Vernon’s office door,  the one he always kept closed. You’d never been inside. He’d laughed once and said it was too messy, too embarrassing, and you knew that was probably true, considering he was extremely messy and was only keeping everything in place lately because you were here to organize.

But the door was open now. Halfway open, in fact. 

You’d always been curious about what might be there, so instead of walking to the kitchen, you walked to the door. Maybe now you could help him organize whatever mess it was. 

You didn’t know why, but suddenly and somehow the air in the hallway felt heavier with each step you took. The closer you got, the stronger the faint metallic scent became, something sharp, sour, familiar in a way you didn’t want to name.

When you pushed the door open fully, your whole world tilted.

Polaroids.

Dozens of them.

Taped to the walls, hanging in uneven lines, faces of people you’d seen on the news. The victims. Some of them smiling, some of them terrified. And at the center of it all, a table. On it, a red mask. The same one the killer wore when he followed you three nights ago. 

You stumbled back, your hand flying to your mouth.

No. No, no, no.

Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. You turned, eyes darting to the hallway, but he was already standing there. Vernon leaned against the doorframe, barefoot, hair mussed, wearing the same shirt and boxers from last night. There was no panic on his face. No fear. Just a quiet, tired calm.

“How many times have I told you not to go into this room, peach?”

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