No Sweeter Innocence Than Our Gentle Sin

90s’ ubae

[8nin]

the tragedy of tumblr is you will inevitably meet people who you should be having a sleepover with. you should be rolling around on their floor and rummaging through their fridge and watching shitty movies with. you should be shopping with should be going out to a cafe with should be wandering through the aquarium with. people who you should be experiencing quotidian joys with... and you cannot! because they live one million miles away

[makeitworse]

BASTARD

back to school! you’re dating the perfect guy, somehow on okay terms with your brother, surrounded by friends both old and new. life is finally looking up… but you can’t help the suspicion that shit is about to go very, very down.

pairing: mingi x f!reader x yunho length: 44.5k genre: college au, drama, angst, smut, stepcest warnings under the cut, read them all! 18+ MDNI

notes: she’s finally here <3 thank you for all of the support on this fic, it’s truly a piece of my heart and i’m so excited to share it. feedback is greatly appreciated, i can’t wait to see everyone’s reactions. this one’s a wild ass ride.

series m.list ⟡ part one

warnings: stepcest, family guilt, jealousy, petty drama, infidelity, addiction, manipulation, alcohol, vomit, mentions of a pregnancy scare, smut; more submissive mingi, more dominant yunho, choking, masochism, nip stim, pussy eating, unprotected sex, but also! lovemaking

“FUCK, BABY—”

it slips from mingi’s lips in a breathy whimper, too lost in the circle of your fist pumping him to realise what he’d done. it’s not until your wrist stills on his length, ringing filling your ears and static filling your brain, does it dawn on him. 

“—babe,” he corrects himself, but the damage was already done. 

disgust, the initial reaction, flares hot under your chest. your fingers fall away from him, grabbing at your forearms as you instinctively hold yourself. just that, your discomfort over something he said without meaning to, is enough to have mingi feel like the biggest piece of shit on earth. 

he tips his head back with a groan, smacking himself square in the forehead for making such an easily avoidable mistake. “shit. ‘m sorry.” 

you tell yourself to breathe, ignoring the anxiety coiling like a snake around your ribs, calling upon the return of the horny still floating around somewhere in your body, to wash away this negative energy. you push him out each time he attempts to creep back into your thoughts, summoned only by that stupid fucking nickname, uttered entirely on accident by your loving boyfriend. yes, mingi — boyfriend. you force your eyes open to stare down at him: flushed and heaving beneath you, face pinched in worry, cock still standing tall. still here, still who you’re really with right now. all it took was one word for you to forget, even for just a split second, like a sleeper agent activated. there’s a reason you’ve banned mingi from saying it.

“babe,” mingi calls out to you softly, pulling you from the sinking pit of your spiralling brain. his big arms engulf your waist as they wrap around you, beaming his glossy boba eyes up at you. “i’m so sorry, i don’t know why i said it, i didn’t even mean to.” 

you nod, lips pressed into a thin line. “i know. i know you didn’t mean it.” you say like you’re reminding yourself. 

your giant of a boyfriend pulls you into his bare, broad chest, nuzzling his nose into your shoulder as he lets out a big sigh, just like a tired puppy. “i love you.” he croaks out, sounding like he’s more distraught over the word than you are. 

you snicker, toying with his hair. “i love you too, my mingi.” he groans at that, the deep noise tickling your neck. you know exactly how your words affected him when you notice a prod at your tummy, suspiciously wet. “mingi.” he hums in response, already unable to help himself from slightly grinding up, tip sliding across your skin. he whines at the relief, and it sends a throb directly to your clit. you pull his head back by a fistful of hair, stopping him close enough for your noses to brush, lips only a breath away from kissing. “make me forget.” 

the request, simple and yet demanding, is all mingi needs to know exactly what you’re asking of him — what you need from him. his hold tightens around your waist, tongue darting out to wet his lips that instantly split into a helpless, wide smile. it’s not everyday you ask this of him, but when you do, he makes the absolute most of it for both of you. mingi presses a soft kiss to your lips, a stark contrast to his intentions to flip you face-down and ravage you until those pretty lips are drooling. “yes ma’am.” 

──

one thing about your boyfriend: in him you can trust to deliver on a good, thorough fuck when you need it. he’s always so docile and easy, in every part of his life, but he’s so obedient on fulfilling your every demand that he’ll be dominant if that’s what you ask of him. if you said to jump he’d ask how high. you love him the way he is and you’d never want him to change, but sometimes you do just need a full-body factory reset, and you know he’s always more than happy to help. courtesy of your cheeky little sex addiction for leaving you with that itch.

yep, your addiction to sex. yuqi and minnie had so graciously mentioned it to you once over brunch, like it was some type of intervention, explaining that they’d basically diagnosed you from the old town stories you’d told and “you, like, need to know. no offence.” you didn’t want to admit that they read you to filth, but they absolutely fucking did. you guess it’s nice to finally slap an excuse on your deranged body count — including that one that would result in your family disowning you — but it doesn’t exactly fix anything. you still wanted to have sex with him, and you still live while carrying that regret like sisyphus and his fucking boulder. while being haunted by the memories of that, admittedly, great sex. 

it’s horrible. you know it is. it’s your little secret you intend to take to the grave. you can still remember the way he held you softly and kissed you harshly, the way he was just too big of a fit and the way it felt so good it hurt. they always find a way to waft back into your thoughts like smoke, right until a detector called your big ass boyfriend goes off, reminding you where home is as well as your morals. mingi’s in a constant state of post-nut clarity from how often you jump his bones, begging him to fuck you mindless, all so that you don’t have to remember him — the way he’d done it. 

truthfully, you’d once gotten yourself mad while thinking about how amazing your boyfriend is at sex, wondering where the hell he learned all that from. mingi had quickly reminded you that he was ‘painfully single’ before you came along, that his large frame paired with his silence (anxiety) had made him less appealing than his more charismatic friends; such as the stone-faced seonghwa or the party animals woosan (wooyoung and san, who are basically one entity at this point). oh, and your brother, of course. but you don’t like to acknowledge that part. it stings too much, even now. even after avoiding any and all things him for months, disappearing from his life as if you’d never even returned. 

mingi has been your rock. you don’t know what you’d do or where you’d be without him. that day he climbed through your window and made you see the light, he’d helped you pack a bag of essentials and clothes, knowing well that you’d be staying the fuck away from this house for as long as possible. and here you are, months-deep into a never-ending sleepover with your own personal therapist who also fucks you on the side. the slew of guilt had been near unbearable, feeling like an ungrateful daughter for ditching your family so soon after getting them back. it was mingi who had pulled you through it, by force really; reminding you how your dad isn’t perfect either, how your brother is batshit insane. 

just the prospect of encountering mingi’s mother almost had you running back home, too. you knew it would be inevitable, dating her son and squatting in her house, and you knew it would blow you into fucking pieces. you couldn’t face her — you didn’t know if you could ever. the only reason you were still staying with him is because he’d reassured you with his mother’s own words. it was okay with her for you to be staying there, and she promised she’d be scarce, considering she works full-time at the hospital. she did feel guilty for what had happened, at least. 

yet, despite living in the house of the family that tore yours apart, despite coping with the point of no-return you’d crossed with your brother, despite mingi shouldering all of your burdens as if you’d ever be able to return the favour — despite everything that’s given you a hard time, beating down on your brain until you can’t take it anymore, still none of it compared to the pain that yunho’s silence brought. 

practically running away without so much as a word, you were expecting the worst of your brother’s reaction. for days you had sat by your phone in suffocating anxiety, waiting for him to blow it up with calls or texts. wishing for him to. yet you’d heard the same amount back that you gave him: nothing. it should be a relief, and yet it fucking hurt more than the rest, more than you could explain to mingi through confused tears. you wanted yunho to berate you, to fight for you; you wanted to know he still loved you. you haven’t yet been able to come to terms with the fact that you’d never known who your brother was, and yet he was just like every other man — all you were good for was one thing. and he’d finally got it. 

but whatever, it’s not like you wanted to talk to him (you did, god help you) after the shit he’s done not just to you, but to mingi. his own best friend, pinning the blame on him for the shit that went down leading into you moving away. knowing mingi’s pined after you since you were kids and throwing your closer bond in his face at any chance he could get. never giving him space to breathe outside of the guilt that he’s the reason they both lost you. you must’ve been a saint in your past life for mingi to still want to be with you in this one, in spite of all the bullshit your family has thrown at him. to be your shoulder to cry on, your crutch to stand on. and it matters even more, knowing he thinks the same about you. 

safe to say, you’ve got no interest in speaking to anyone who wasn’t your stepmother. it took a few days, too guilt-stricken to confront her worried messages, wherein you’d reassured her that you were alive, and sober… if you have one thing to thank yunho for, it’s the fact that it seemed like he hadn’t tattled on you. your stepmother was still fussing over you like she always does, and nothing in her tone over text or voice over calls suggested that she knew her two kids had slept together. if anything, she wouldn’t stop asking when you’d be home, insisting that they all missed you there. which had led to today: your stepmother’s birthday.

you’re still very much enrolled in the city college, and the first day was drawing nearer — which you’ve had to mentally prepare yourself to face yunho again. the sole reason you took a gap year back at the old town was to save yourself for this, attending the same college as your brother and friends. it’s all you ever wished for, and it’s all that’s been fucking terrorising you through these weeks of back-to-school preparations. you’re second-guessing your degree, your ambitions, if this is even what you need right now; and mingi’s been on the receiving end of each of those doubts, reminding you that you wanted this enough in the first place, that you shouldn’t turn your back on that version of yourself now. 

he’s right. he’s always right. like now, as you sit passenger in his car and his low voice pierces through your thoughts, halting your near-hyperventilating that he heard before you felt. “babe, if you don’t start listing five things you can see, i’m gonna put my breathing app on.” 

it makes you blow out a weak laugh, still chasing after your breaths to get them even again. you drag a hand down your face. “i’m fine, seriously. it’s just stuffy in here.” you smile at him to top it off. the last thing you want is for him to worry over you more than he has, considering he consoled you through an ugly breakdown earlier before carrying you into the shower. 

he shoots you a glare, brows pinched over his eyes, one that’s to say he sees right through you. all they have to do is flick down to the hands resting in your lap before focusing back on the road, and you sink into your seat, realising how he caught it. mingi had told you once that he knows when you’re lying: “you do this thing, where you touch your face before.” he’d said it was a self-soothing tactic, to mentally ‘feel better’ about the lie. you can never remember to prevent it before it happens naturally. next time, you tell yourself. 

“you owe me five.” he reminds you, cutting you one of his proud grins that never fail to drive you crazy. without shame you rake your eyes over him, feasting on the way his white tank top hugs his body, his wide shoulders and toned arms that you’d pinned above his head last night. the idea flashes in your mind: asking him to pull the car over somewhere quiet, let you crawl over the centre console and ride him right in the driver’s seat— “one,” mingi starts for you, as if he can feel your energy gradually riling up in the air. he must have a sixth sense for it now, considering how often you want him. it is hard not to when he looks like that. 

you roll your eyes, only at the interruption from the steamy daydream playing out in your head, before doing as he asked. “road.” 

“now two?”

you huff. “bossy man.” 

“hey—” 

you squint at his hair. “three, dandruff.” mingi shakes his head with a sigh, and you mime swatting the air while sputtering, acting like he’s getting the nonexistent flakes everywhere. “four, car with shitty air conditioning. five, hmm,” you open up his centre console, intending to name the first thing you see, before your face twists in confusion at the pile of foil sitting on the top. without thinking you reach for one of the few ripped packets, presenting it in the air. you say nothing, waiting for mingi to give you his attention again — and when his eyes flick over, his entire face drops at the empty condom packet between your fingers. you’ve been on birth control since you started dating. you haven’t needed these. 

mingi groans, scrunching his eyes, as if he’s already annoyed at where you’re very clearly going to take this. “babe,” 

“just be honest.” you tell him, tone teetering on the edge of something that’s entirely up to his answer. 

“it’s not mine.” he explains calmly, trying not to set you off. “you know i don’t have any.” 

“yeah, now you don’t. there’s like five in here.” you snap, leaping head first into conclusions. “what girl gave them to you?” 

“that’s not—” he cuts himself off before his voice gets too loud, keeping this from turning into the argument it didn’t have to be. you both jostle forward as his foot hits the brake, too focused on you to slow early enough for the red light. he takes the chance to face you fully, giving his entire attention. “i didn’t leave that there. one of my friends must’ve to piss me off. wooyoung, most likely.”

from what you’ve heard of wooyoung, it tracks, but you just can’t let yourself buy it. “and you didn’t throw them out?” 

“babe, i didn’t know they were there,” he laughs, a resonant noise from his chest, so genuine that you instantly feel bad for putting his mood down. “he probably emptied his pockets when i wasn’t looking. i drive his loud ass home and this is the thanks i get.”

given a green, mingi has to face the road again, and you sink into your seat as the car takes off. it dawns quickly how hypocritical it was of you — thinking mingi could ever be unfaithful to you, when you’re the spawn of the cheating satan himself. even if they were his, just not used recently, you can’t say it’d feel any better. again, hypocritical. as if you wouldn’t fuck anything with two legs and a dick between them back at the old town. “sorry,” you grumble out, too stubborn to meet his eyes as his head whips to you. 

“no, babe, it’s okay.” mingi reassures you without missing a beat, one hand leaving the wheel to sit atop your thigh, the contact lighting a flame under your skin. he’s always so patient and gentle with you. you have his time spent in therapy during high school to thank for that. “you excited to see your stepmother?” 

you nod, too caught up in your imaginative assumption-making to realise you’d entered your suburb, recognising nearby food chains and supermarkets. “yeah. i missed her.” 

he hums, his thumb brushing along your inner thigh, and your mind’s quick to drop back down into the gutter. this time, you are about to get the words out, but mingi beats you to it. “heard from your dad?” 

you should’ve just asked the first time.. now this conversation’s too somber for him to possibly agree to sex with you right now. sighing, you shake your head. mingi squeezes your thigh, a gesture meant to distract you from any sad thoughts creeping in, yet it only turns up the frisky ones tenfold. “would you wanna—”

“yunho still hasn’t—” he starts too, the both of you speaking at the same time, looking to each other with equally confused expressions. “you go first.” mingi says, “would i want to..?” 

your eyes drop to his hand engulfing your thigh, still stroking his fingers along the skin, and you silently mourn the car quickie that could’ve been. “nevermind. i’ll tell you later.” you blow out a breath, steeling yourself for the incoming topic. “you were saying?” 

you haven’t discussed him once — you haven’t wanted to talk about it, and mingi hasn’t wanted to ask, but you both know he needs to now. you’re seeing your brother for the first time in months, after sleeping with him and running away with his ex best friend, and you’ll have to act like a happy family again despite it all. you’re not okay. and you know he’s about to do what he can with that big, beautiful brain of his to make you feel as okay as he can help. mingi clears his throat, softening his voice for your comfort as he asks, “yunho still hasn’t said anything?” 

your nostrils burn, a telltale sign of incoming tears. you screw your eyes shut until your head throbs, willing the waterworks to disappear. you refuse to make mingi deal with you crying one more time today. you should tell him that you still check your phone everyday just in case you missed a notification. you should tell him that you contemplate caving first and reaching out if he won’t. you should tell him that your finger has hovered over the ‘call’ button more times than you can count. you don’t though.

“no.” is all you say. mingi just quietly nods next to you, and with the way his adam’s apple bobs in your peripheral, you know he’s still got more to say about this. he addresses you by name, and the gentle way he says it is almost enough to get you to open your eyes and face him. almost. you only just held back the tears from flowing, it’d all be for nothing if you looked at mingi now. 

“you know i don’t care what happened between you.” he reassures you for what must be the hundredth time by now, and yet you still can’t bring yourself to believe it. “and you know i don’t want to be selfish and take you away from your family. he’s an asshole, but he was my best friend once, and he’s yours too.” you cough to cover up the sob that almost escaped. his palm just keeps on stroking your thigh, keeping you grounded. “i care about you, so much, and somehow i still care about him too. if you wanna be friends with him, i’m okay with it. i understand.” friends with yunho. because you can’t just go back to being siblings after everything. just the thought of that has you sick to your stomach, a gag almost clawing its way up your burning throat. “just.. if shit happens, come to me, okay? let me be there for you. i’d drop everything in a heartbeat, you know that.” 

it’s mingi’s way of telling you to seek out him and him only; to trust him over the appeal of your bad habits and a temporary fix. he’ll support you through anything, and he’s proved that.. you just need to let him. 

“promise me.” he says, holding his pinky up from the hand sitting on your thigh. 

rubbing the tears from your eyes, your free hand finds his, fingers lacing together. “i promise.” 

you can’t see the way mingi purses his lips, choosing not to mention how you touched your face. 

──

“oh baby, my baby,” your stepmother sighs out in relief, her arms constricting like a boa as they wrap around you in a hug you can tell she’s been needing. “i love you, i missed you, my girl.” 

sugar assaults your senses as you breathe her in, her favourite perfume and the traces of baking still stuck to her skin. her sickly sweet scent immediately grounds you from the nostalgia, washing away the anxiety of setting foot in a home you barely feel like you belong in anymore. she smacks a kiss onto your cheek, and you squirm in her death grip, almost calling her ‘mom’ before you stop yourself. you feel like you lost that right after what you did with her son. 

“you look so pretty!” she comments as she pulls back, taking in the short, flowy dress you’d worn for tonight. “i’ve got an apple pie in the oven,” she tells you giddily, running her hands through your hair, fluffing and parting it the way she likes. “you can be the judge whether it’s still as good as i used to make it.” 

“you know i’m gonna enjoy it either way.” you smile at her, feeling so painfully bittersweet. 

she leads you out of the doorway with a hand on your back, “i’ve been in the kitchen all afternoon. i hope you’re hungry.” 

you giggle. “i saved myself for this, don’t worry.” 

“yes, well.. are they feeding you right over there?” it makes you pause in the middle of the room, caught off guard by the sudden question. ‘over there’, at the house of the lady who homewrecked her marriage, the boy who you ditched her son for— “just tell me if the cooking’s better than mine.” 

“no!” you blurt out, then laugh, in pure relief this wasn’t turning into an interrogation or something. “no, mingi can’t cook for shit. no need to worry.” 

“that’s good.” she beams at you, and it’s almost confusing how casual she is about this. to be fair, you’ve already answered her bombardment of questions over the phone concerning your business with mingi, so it’s not as if she’d reprimand you for it now. she’s had all this time to voice her disapproval if that’s what she really thinks. 

in fact, she completely contradicts that thought as she suddenly pulls you into another tight hug, giggling that she just can’t help herself. you let yourself hug her back, melting into the comfort of her arms, and she sighs. “it’s weird not having you around, baby.” she admits in a murmur, “it’s made me so happy seeing you and yunho hanging out again.” 

your stomach sinks at the mention of him, the memory of what you did together in your bed appearing like a flashbang before your eyes. the sweetest woman you’ve ever known is upset her kids aren’t getting along and it’s all your fault — all because you thought with your clit and not your brain again. it’s a wonder she’s even standing here hugging you right now, when she should really be slapping some sense into you. you moved back here to be a family again after all, you should do your part to act like it. 

“i’m sorry,” you tell her quietly. “i miss it too. i’ve just.. i felt like i needed space.” 

from what exactly, she didn’t need to know. you haven’t even told her anything about the situation yourself, just followed along with yunho’s words that she had repeated — being that you’d had a fight, where mingi somehow fit in. nothing more. where you should be relieved he hadn’t told the whole ugly truth, it only filled you with dread. though you were blindsided by his utter lack of morals, never once have you doubted the intelligence of your brother. you know he’s just keeping your little secret in his back pocket, waiting for the right moment to reveal his hand. no matter what it costs, he’ll still end up on top. 

“i know, it can’t be easy. you’re still getting used to living here, to each other again.” she rubs her hand up and down your back, just as a chill runs down it from the guilt weighing on your conscience. “just remember, this is still your home too, okay? i love you, we all love you.” 

you nod, swallowing down nothing as your mouth dries up. you wish she’d married a better man, and ended up birthing a better daughter of her own. you can’t even imagine the amount of headaches you’ve given her in the short span of time since moving back. her tender, loving heart deserved more than what you and your father could offer — though you suppose that’s where yunho came in to deliver on. the one thing he could do right was treat his mother well. 

“sorry, i’ve been feeling sentimental all day,” she grins sheepishly, shoulders bouncing. “yunho was helping me cook, and it reminded me of when you were both little, running around the kitchen and arguing over who got to do what. my two little helpers.” she chuckled, her eyes soft and fond like the memory was playing out right in front of them. 

you find yourself reminiscing too, eyes sweeping around the bottom floor of the house and seeing your younger selves chasing each other, squealing and laughing. mingi found his way in there too — all three of you attached at the hip, playing together in ignorant bliss of what was happening between your parents. you did miss those days. you miss when mingi and yunho could be in the same room as you without getting at each other’s throats. you miss when you didn’t know what yunho really felt towards you. you miss how simple things were, and how they’ll never be that way again. 

a creak of the staircase has your stepmother’s head whipping up, while your stomach plummets down, already sensing the crushing weight of his eyes on you before you even see him. “oh, speak of the devil!” your stepmother beckons him down, glancing at you as she anticipates a reaction. you can’t let her down, not on her special day, so you cave and tilt your chin up to look at him. 

yunho. grey sweats and a black tee loosely hanging off of his long frame, dark hair grown enough to graze his neck, bangs parted out of his eyes — topped off with a stare that burned straight through you. 

the sight mirrored the day you first came back, and you hate the relief that hits you over seeing him again, paired with something else you’re choosing to ignore. this time, yunho doesn’t barrel down the steps and scoop you into his arms like he had. he simply smiles, waves an almost shy hand, and greets you with a voice soft enough to rip your heart in half. 

“hey, baby.” 

you suppress the enticing urge to gag, to scream at his face, to drop to your knees and cry. there’s no doubt he must be able to see the storm raging inside you, and yet he doesn’t move an inch as you hold each other’s gazes in silence, like he’s ready to wait all day for you to say it back. which, you do, only because you care for how it’ll make your stepmother feel. 

“hi.” you reply, succinct. it’s worth it when her smile stretches wider next to you, and even more so when she’s excitedly tugging you to the kitchen, away from the giant gargoyle watching you from the top of the stairs. you regret wearing this tiny fucking dress. 

the warm aroma filling the kitchen hits you instantly, eyes finding the glowing oven with a puffy apple pie sat inside. your stepmother directs you to your seat at the dining table, the top cluttered with baking dishes and pots half-filled with the remainder of tonight’s roast. “go on, take however much you want. we’ve all eaten already.” she insists, setting out utensils in front of you and darting back into the kitchen before you can even thank her. 

even with your mouth practically watering over the feast before you, you can’t help but wring your hands under the table from the anxiety pooled deep in your stomach, your father’s eyes finally acknowledging you above the beer bottle he sips from. “baby,” he greets you impassively, tipping his chin like you’ve just come down from your room upstairs; like you haven’t spent months living at your boyfriend’s house, who he also fucking hates. 

you nod at him — only because of your stepmother’s presence — before helping yourself to plating some dinner. after fussing around in the kitchen, opening and closing different cabinets while commentating out loud, your stepmother finally returns with a thick book in her hands. your brows furrow as she approaches, clearing a spot on the table before dropping the book with a thud, and your entire body cringes as you recognise the front cover. 

your family’s photo book. a big behemoth documenting your entire childhood from the lens of your stepmother’s old camera. she really wasn’t kidding when she said she felt sentimental.. “you remember this, don’t you?” she asks as she pulls out the chair beside you, flipping to the first page and cooing over yunho’s baby photos. 

“i do..” you mutter, unable to rip your eyes away from the incoming car crash before you. you know you’re only going to upset yourself and lose sleep over the memories preserved in these pages, but you can’t help but continue to watch as her finger flicks through the book. the first few pages are solely yunho, and your heart clenches as you watch him grow up, all round cheeks and puppy-like smiles, your stepmother giggling and telling stories. she suddenly pauses at a specific photo where yunho’s accompanied by a lanky man, face blacked out with tape — his father. 

you glance at your stepmother, her lips pressed into a firm line as she looks upon the faceless man. you’ve never actually learned what happened there, between them. it’s not like she spoke of him, and she had no reason to after marrying your father. you briefly check his reaction too, though he’s unconcerned with the quality family time happening across from him at the table, sipping on a second beer and watching soccer on his phone. 

your stepmother clears her throat as she flips the page, moving into yunho’s early school years, where some familiar faces are introduced. mingi appears first in class photos and playdates — soon followed by you and your father as you first became one family. the pool in your stomach continues to sink as your stepmother peruses through the book, reminiscing fondly while you spiral over the same memories from right beside her; pure, innocent kids growing up as the bestest of friends, not a clue in the world of what chaos awaited them. 

you startle her with the genuine groan you let out as she reaches a photo of your nineth birthday. you’re blowing out the candles of your cake, mingi sitting at your left while yunho kisses your cheek from the right. your stepmother gushes as she hugs you to her side, like the cute, harmless picture doesn’t make you want to throw up your dinner right now. did he already see you as more than just his baby sister? when did his actions start to harbour darker intent?

you’re so out of it, that when she stumbles upon a photo of your little trio together, you laugh through the absolute heartache it brings. you can only faintly hear your stepmother asking what’s so funny as you gasp for air, choking back each sob that threatens to rip from your throat. 

you, yunho, and mingi sat on the couch in that order, nintendo controllers in hand as you pose for the camera. they must’ve been thirteen there, and you a year younger. you’ve got a leg thrown over your brother’s, his palm sitting on your thigh, while mingi’s arm rested around the back of the couch, hand slyly holding your shoulder. it’s funny how perfectly the candid encapsulates your fucked up little dynamic. yunho wedging himself between you both, you none the wiser as you show him affection, while mingi reaches for you out of his sight. you want to cry the longer you look at it. you were all so happy, and it’s ruined. your sibling bond, their close friendship; ruined, because you couldn’t keep your legs shut. 

or maybe it’s because yunho’s a fucking freak, a voice in your head reminds you. probably belonging to mingi..

“yunho!” your stepmother greets the footsteps approaching from behind, snapping you clean out of whatever rabbit hole you’d found yourself falling in. “look here, do you remember this?”

your breath hitches as his smell invades your senses, warm with faint traces of his favourite sandalwood cologne. he crosses his arms over your stepmother’s shoulders, leaning down to hug her from behind and peer around her head. yunho hums in response like he’s looking at the book, though you almost squirm under the weight of his eyes glued to you. “yeah, i mopped the floor with both of them in mario kart that day. baby was so sulky afterwards.” he chuckles, blatantly baiting you into a reaction that you refuse to give him. 

“someone’s still not over it,” your stepmother teases, pointing out how your face had completely dropped since yunho joined. 

yunho scoffs, his arms falling from her as he stands upright, eyes never leaving your face. “i let her win every other time.” 

your father’s head tips up in your peripheral, finally curious about the rest of his family, and the pressure’s on as their expectant stares wait for your mouth to move in a response. if it were just you and yunho, you wouldn’t think twice about ignoring him completely. he didn’t even deserve the honour of an insult. unfortunately for you — and luckily for him — your parents won’t let you rest if you don’t get along with him. you’re sure he must’ve been moping around the house in your absence, earning as many sympathy points as he could, all so you have no choice but to play nice or you’ll be the bad guy. though they’d never admit to having a bias, giant goody-two-shoes has never copped a scolding in his life, which is an almost daily occurrence for you.

forcing yourself to meet the favourite child’s eyes, you muster the weakest smile possible, gritting out a “thanks.”

the air’s sucked from your lungs as a large hand meets the back of your head, stroking your hair affectionately. “of course.” yunho smiles at you — an almost sadistic gesture, knowing exactly what his touch rises in you now. 

yunho walks off to the kitchen, your parents none the wiser as your stepmother returns to the book and your father to his phone, while you’re left paralysed in your seat. it takes everything in you and then some to keep those memories of what you did together at bay, to not let them consume your nervous system as you focus on getting your breathing back to even. five things, you can hear mingi tell you, pulling you out of the onset of a panic attack. you’re quick to follow, mentally counting things you can see on the table. plates, utensils, cups, dad’s beer—

your inner voice is cut off as a steaming apple pie enters your vision, yunho placing the dish by your end of the table. “oh, yunho, you didn’t have to—” your stepmother whines before he interrupts her with a quick kiss on the cheek, the pair of them breaking into giggles. 

“it’s alright,” he insists, setting down two small plates in front of you both. “you’ve done enough for your own birthday.”

“what a nice young man you’ve raised.” the remark slips out before you can stop it, with a bitter edge to your voice that has your father eyeing you. unwilling to meet the prying stares of your parents, your eyes subconsciously find their way to yunho’s. the air between you is charged, your hairs standing on end as if from the static — yunho’s eyes glinting at successfully provoking you, his lip curling with something you unfortunately recognise now. 

the heated look he’s sending you slides back into his usual soft resting face, as if it was just your imagination. “i’ve missed you too, baby.” he chuckles, breaking off the sudden tension in the room. 

your stepmother resumes cutting a slice of pie, while yunho gathers the used dishes from the table and carries them to the sink. at least he has enough grace to put some space between you and give you a god damn breather. keeping up this act, flaunting your secret in front of your parents’ faces, is strangling you alive. you silently promise yourself that after eating dessert, you’re calling mingi to get you the fuck out of here asap. 

you give a hum of approval after the first bite of pie, much to your stepmother’s excitement. “it’s not as good, it’s even better.” you tell her around a mouthful of pastry. 

“see? i told you she’d like it,” yunho adds from the kitchen as he loads the dishwasher. you barely hold back the urge to roll your eyes.

after a few more bites in comfortable silence, your stepmother suddenly clears her throat to ask, “so when will you be back home?”

three sets of eyes are on you as you chew slowly, buying yourself time to think of an answer….only to turn up empty. “i don’t know.” you admit, already prepared for your father to give his two cents. 

“ah, does mingi want you to move in?” your stepmother replies casually, your eyes widening as she continues, “what does his mother think about you staying there?” 

the room falls silent enough to hear a pin drop. you can’t help the way your eyes dart to your father at the mention — how he tips back the rest of his beer and firmly sets the glass bottle on the table, then loudly kicks his chair out before leaving the room without a word. you glare at him the whole way out; you can always count on your father to kill the mood, to ruin a good thing for the rest of you. your stepmother thins her lips, saying nothing as the grown ass man stomps up the stairs and shuts himself in their bedroom. it is truly a wonder how he managed to win her back, or rather, why she chose to take him back. even after divorce, it seems like he still hasn’t moved on from the whole.. fiasco. 

your eyes move without meaning to, which you realise is out of instinct as you lock eyes with yunho — who has only been looking at you the entire time, his face unreadable. “she doesn’t mind.” you respond as you rip your eyes away from him, remembering you had yet to answer your stepmother’s question. “uh, i wouldn’t want to move in though.”

“oh? will you be coming back before the semester starts?”

your spoon plays with the apple filling, appetite long gone. “i don’t really know, i’m sorry.”

she tsks, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into a side-hug. “don’t be sorry. we just miss having you around, m’kay?” 

you nod, bile burning your throat as you catch yunho’s satisfied grin from the kitchen. he knows you feel terrible about it, and he knows it’s only a matter of time before you cave and come right back to home — to him. 

you busy your brain by helping your stepmother clean up — while avoiding yunho doing the same — excusing yourself upstairs so that you could let mingi know you were ready to leave. after he’d texted that he was on the way, you figured it couldn’t hurt to bring more clothes and some cosmetics back to his place, since you really had no idea how much longer you needed space from yunho before you could feel okay. clearly, the time you have spent separated did nothing the instant he was close to you again. you folded, so fucking easily, despite all the work and love mingi has poured in to help you move on from this. 

rifling through your closet and desk, you check to make sure everything is still in its place. there’s no doubt yunho’s been through here again — he’s obviously snooped around before, since he knew you had condoms. on that thought, you open the same drawer, laughing at the disappearance of the freshly opened box. wow, he really got you there. how are you possibly going to fuck other men now!

packing an extra bag for your never-ending sleepover at the song’s house, your hand stills where it reaches into your underwear drawer. you actually take a step back, examine the state of it, and mentally count off each pair of panties you own. you can’t decide whether you need to laugh, gag, or cry as you realise there’s some missing. 

it’s funny, and it’s disgusting, the fact you only know because you haven’t been home to touch your clothes. how much other shit did he get away with all those years, right under your nose? how much worse is he willing to do now that you’ve broken his heart?

as if all your thoughts have summoned him, your door quietly creaks open, yunho slipping in as if trying to not alert your parents. the very thought makes you feel faint as you stand, sick to your guts that he’s acting like you’re sneaking around, like this is some type of affair. nothing between you should have to be kept secret from your parents — if only you were normal siblings, that is. 

“you’re fucked in the head,” is how you greet him, jabbing a finger at him from across the room. “wash my underwear and then put it back where you stole it from, you fucking perv.” 

yunho shrugs, crossing his arms as he leans against your door. “why? it’s not like you’re home to wear them.” he’s shameless in how his eyes rake over your body, as if making up for every time he had to resist the urge in front of your parents. it almost makes you feel self-conscious, wanting to cover your bare skin from his eager eyes. 

you scoff in utter disbelief — that this is the real yunho, not the sweet, loving brother you saw downstairs. of course, humans are multifaceted, but it’s not like he suddenly became absolutely insane overnight. no, this side of him has been around for longer than you could comprehend, just lurking under the surface and revealing itself in fleeting moments, quick enough that you could doubt it was ever there. now that you’ve seen him in his entirety, without the guise of innocence and the benefit of the doubt, there’s no use in masking now. your brother wants you, you let him have you once, and you will live with that forever. 

“stop acting like there’s.. something, here.” you wave your hand at the space between you, grimacing. “i’m your sister. it doesn’t matter what you think, or what you want, that’s not going to change. so leave me the fuck alone already.”

he huffs, amused, tongue poking his cheek. “you know i can’t, right? especially after—”

“i don’t care! you will!” you cut in, eyes wild as you rip into him. “i have a boyfriend, we are family, get that into your fucked up brain!” you huff a bitter laugh, arms flailing at your sides, every single ounce of rage you’ve bottled now spilling out of you. “do you even understand how wrong it is? that there’s a reason we’re hiding it?” 

yunho’s deep chuckle interrupts you, his face lit up with such genuine joy even as you hurl jagged words at him, it reaches for your heart and twists. “all i care about is you.” he admits with his whole chest, sending a knife straight into yours. “and when you’re done lying to yourself, i’ll be waiting.” 

yunho leaves you with that, his words sinking in and burning like acid as he turns to reach for the door knob. oh god, he really fucking loves you. nothing else could compare to what he feels — nothing that you’ve just listed could stop it. 

“wait—” you halt him, and you damn nearly buckle under the smirk he throws your way, as if he knew it was coming. you gulp, resisting every single urge to run to him, into the arms of something you know would feel fucking amazing — and yet what is wrong on every single level. you can’t give in to him again. you can’t do that to yourself, or to mingi. “please don’t tell anyone what we did.” 

his jaw ticks at the tone you use, so desperate, so deliberate in how you’re trying to tug at his heartstrings. it’s obvious to the both of you, and yet it still works. “i won’t.” yunho promises in the sincerest voice he can manage. he allows himself to check you out one last time before readjusting the front of his sweats and opening your door, slipping out into the hallway just as quietly as he came in. like he was never there. 

you nearly sob out into the room once you’re alone, hating the way your body responds to him, even now. your blood charged with electricity, your skin sensitive with goosebumps, your mind hot and bothered. you hate that you know, if mingi wasn’t actively on his way over, yunho might’ve had you again. if you hadn’t distanced yourself from him, you don’t even know how many times in the last two months you would’ve let yunho corner you and take you apart beneath him. this could’ve grown into something much uglier and harder to hide than it was, and yet it still can — because he’s waiting for you to break. 

you don’t want this. you’re trying to commit to safe and secure with your boyfriend, not sneaky and forbidden with your brother. you don’t want to want him, and you do. all because he wants you more than you could ever fucking understand. and maybe, even more than anyone in this world could ever compare to. 

going back to mingi felt like being dunked in freezing water. you were completely out of it, offering only curt responses to his questions and weak huffs to his jokes as he drove home. he could tell something was wrong, it hung in the air like a fucking cloud, and yet he wouldn’t push you on it until you were back home, cozy in bed with his full attention on you. in the meantime, he just offered soft attempts at conversation, all to keep you from spiraling in the silence. 

but by the time mingi takes the turn into his street, your energy’s so drained that you don’t think you can bear another ‘talk’ without snapping at him or bursting into tears. they’ve been happening more frequently as your first semester at college approaches, your budding anxiety so palpable he can practically taste it whenever he kisses you. 

you know he only wants to help, to do what he can to ensure you’re in the best mental shape before heading into a new, stress-assured chapter of your life. you know he loves you more than you could ever thank him for, that you’d ever be able to deserve — and yet you’re tired. you’re tired of your brain being dissected and analysed, by being told “why you do this” or “why you think like that”. you long to be messy again, to make bad decisions and regret them, to exist freely without dreading another fucking ‘talk’ about how much better you could be.

you’re in love with mingi, and he’s in love with you even more. but even if he fell for the girl you are now, you can’t tell if he’d still want her over the girl he’s trying to push you to become. all you wanted was to be loved no matter what. no matter who you were, or who he was, you wanted…

fuck. 

mingi flinches as you tear your seatbelt from the buckle, asking you something you can’t hear as you crawl over the centre console — just like the two times he’s said your name in the past minute since parking out the front of his house, both with no response. without a word you straddle his lap and grab either side of his face, catching a brief glimpse of his lost, glossy eyes that almost have you hesitating before you dive into his neck. your lips latch to the skin, his vanilla cologne lighting up your palate. the boy beneath you jolts as your teeth scrape and your tongue licks, sucking a patch of marks under his jaw; no romance or intimacy in it, all heated haste. mingi just takes it, tries his best to get a word out or at least keep up as you practically eat his neck. 

you rut yourself against him, the car jostling as you hastily grind your crotch against his, right until you can feel that familiar hardness through the fabric. you lift yourself by the knees, sparing him from the assault of hickeys only when you need to breathe, your hands fumbling to get the annoying barriers of clothing between you out of the way. impatient, you settle on sliding your panties to the side, then tugging mingi’s pants and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free, thick and pretty even in the dark of the night. you don’t bother to prep yourself, already dripping with eagerness as you line him up with a hand around the base, then dropping to sit on his dick. 

the sting of the stretch makes you cuss, paired with the soft whimpers from mingi as every inch of him fills you to the brim, twitching inside you. you don’t wait to let either of you adjust to the almost unbearably tight fit, anchoring your weight on the knees bracketing his thighs as you start to bounce, spearing yourself on him over and over at a ruthless pace. mingi’s head falls back into his seat, eyes screwed shut and mouth dropped open with a broken stream of pathetic noises, his hands futilely trying to grab onto your waist, your thighs; to caress and hold you like he always does, while you’re determined to fuck him like he’s someone else. 

you chase nothing but your own pleasure as you ride him, too focused to even outwardly react as his length rubs against your g-spot, your gut tightening and pussy throbbing with each bounce. your orgasm’s close enough to taste on the tip of your tongue, and you’re so caught up in that edge of euphoria that you hadn’t even realised mingi had wedged his hands between your bodies — grounding you as his fingers slide over your cheeks, forcing you to meet his eyes. 

you don’t catch whatever he says to you, his brows pinched in worry as his eyes flit all over your face. you get out a nod, trying to hang onto the thread that is your sweet release, hoping that it’s enough to reassure whatever he could be worried about. you can’t believe he’s trying to talk right now — he’s a man, he should be over the moon that you’ve surprised him with some pussy. 

mingi’s face twists, a harsh pulse of his cock inside you follows, and you know that he must be close too. not that you were taking it into consideration, really. again, he’s a man, he’ll get there anyways. you do hear the way he cries out at your pussy clamping down, white-hot bliss surging through your veins as you cum around him, riding mingi right through it until he’s shooting out inside of you. before you can even slow down he’s pressing his lips to yours, kissing you through the aftershocks of your shared release — and that alone is what snaps you clean out of it. 

you pull back with a gasp, shock flashing across mingi’s face over the fact you didn’t kiss him back. you don’t hear him say your name, but rather see his mouth move in the shape of it, his thumbs gently stroking your cheeks. still soothing you, still worried about you, even though you hurt him.

it’s the last straw to break your back. you can’t feel anything but heat as everything rushes out all at once, flooding your body with feelings too big for you to understand. you only realise you’re crying as mingi wipes the tears from your cheeks; only realise you’re shaking as his arms wrap around you in a hug. 

“why?” you stammer out between sobs, neither of you even knowing what you’re asking until— “why do you love me?” 

mingi shakes his head as he shushes you, his cock softening where it’s still buried inside you. he presses gentle kisses to your face, to each tear that falls. “i love you.” is all he responds with, knowing there’s not much else he could say to settle this down, though it only has the tears flowing harder.

“what do you even see in me?” you wail, both hands trying to push at his chest to get him away from you, or you away from him. “i’m disgusting, i’m fucked up, i don’t fucking deserve you.”

“don’t say things like that,” mingi’s quick to refute, his arms tightening around you. “why on earth would you say that?” 

“we aren’t meant to be together.” you tell him with a harrowing certainty, mingi’s face cracking as your words strike through his chest, hitting right on target. “you’re not made for me.”

mingi’s throat bobs in a gulp, the pain written plainly across his features as the admission hangs in the air between you. he can tell it wasn’t from the heat of the moment — you’ve thought it before. it’s why it slipped out so easily, without hesitation. though you long for a reaction, for his patience to snap and for his words to tear you apart right back, you know that’s not the boy you’re dating. the boy who still chooses to love you everyday, even when you can gut him like this without thinking twice. 

mingi says nothing as he leaves a peck on your forehead, resting his own on top and forcing you to look into his eyes; to confront the sincerity in them as he pours his entire heart into his words. “if it’s not you, then it’s no one.” 

your head shakes; quick to refuse, to try and push him away again, but mingi’s quicker to pull your body to press firm against his, completely smothering you in his warmth. when it comes to your boyfriend, he’s nothing if not assured. he wears confidence like a second skin, unafraid to embarrass himself with a joke or flaunt his body for a reaction. everything he says and does is defined by sincerity — everything he feels is genuine, and pure, and honest. with all the blood in his body to keep his heart beating, his love is nothing if not yours. 

it could’ve been hours you sat like that, mingi’s body wrapped around yours, your thoughts that once spun a mile a minute now still, silent. when his arms suddenly fall away, panic begins to settle in the absence of his touch, until he’s shrugging his hoodie off his shoulders. you wince as he shifts below you, remembering he’s still buried inside you until one hand gently raises you off his length; the other quickly stuffing the hoodie under your dress, soiling it with his cum where it drips out of you. mingi presses a kiss to your cheek, now sticky with dried tears. “let’s get inside now, yeah?”

──

“shuhua hasn’t even left home yet!” minnie scoffs loudly at her phone before she presents it to you from the opposite side of the booth. you nearly shiver at the sight of life360 on her screen, seeing your icon still monochrome and frozen at san’s place from when you disabled your location months ago. 

“you think she’ll come this time?” you ask, distracting yourself from the unwelcome memories as you draw on the condensation of your glass of water. 

“probably not. she hasn’t even read the group chat.” minnie’s eyes roll from beneath her bangs, thumbs tapping away angrily before she plants it on the table with a sigh. 

“fivesome again?” yuqi wiggles her brows, earning a side-eye from you both. “or i’ll just go fuck myself i guess?”

the faces at brunch today had become the regular for group hang-outs. soyeon and miyeon were still on their way over, meanwhile soojin was busy and shuhua.. well, couldn’t care less. 

minnie and yuqi had introduced you to the rest of the girls, all of them having become friends in high school while you were in small town purgatory, and you fit right in as if there was a spot always waiting for you. after spending years with nothing but men in your corner, it was refreshing and yet a little unfamiliar having a whole group of girls there for one another. 

you can understand the difficulty of multitasking school and socialising — hell, even you haven’t been all that consistent at coming out because of girlfriend duties — but shuhua had noticeably been distancing herself from the group as of late. 

soojin had an actual excuse for her presence being a rarity, having graduated last year and immediately earning a great position in a full-time job, though she still made frequent appearances in the group chat and kept up to date with you all. in contrast to shuhua, who’d been practically awol since the first semester started a few weeks ago. you’ve only actually been at the same hang-out once, every other time you haven’t been able to come is when she’s able to show. it’s not as if her presence made all that difference though; shuhua was a girl of very few words, and it’s not like you’ve bonded enough one-on-one to get anything more out of her. 

outside of the odd girl’s day where shuhua would ghost the group and the rest would hate her for it, everything had been great, and more importantly— normal. you and mingi are in love and thriving, you’re killing it in your classes and staying on top of the workload, you go out with your girls every other day, and you’re.. back at home, surprisingly. 

mingi drives you to and from campus, and you usually spend the night at his place when you’ve both got classes the next day, but you’re not avoiding your own family like the plague anymore. as such, you and yunho have become… acquaintances, of sorts. you’re not friendly (at least not on your end), but you’re not hostile either. 

you just.. coexist. like siblings with different lives, that aren’t close. except, you do have similar lives, and you were closer than blood once. despite everything, at least he seemed to listen when you asked him to back off. 

life is the best it’s been in a long, long while. it really does just go on. and one day, maybe you can wake up and think that nothing ever actually happened between you and him. maybe then you’ll be able to sleep at night. 

“economics has been bending me over,” minnie casually says the second you tune back in, the girls still chatting while you spaced out at the wall. “oh, so glad you could join us!” she teases, noticing you’re finally looking at them. 

“ugh, real. let’s get bombed this saturday.” yuqi glances at you, asking sarcastically, “wanna smoke like that one time you told yunho about?” 

you groan, cringing at the callback to the elaborate tale you had told yunho just for him to catch you in the lie not even twenty minutes after. and then fuck you, but… that’s irrelevant right now. 

“what’s this?” minnie looks between you with eyes sparkling, her nose catching the trail of hot gossip in the air. 

the bleached blonde jabs a thumb your way, “she ditched yunho at san’s birthday to hook up with mingi, and asked me to cover for her. she told him we left together to get high at mine.” minnie oohs in response, while yuqi rolls her eyes with an ugh, “yunho sent me a novel the morning after. he texts like a serial killer.” 

“what?” it slips out before you can stop it, since that is news to you. nothing to be surprised of though — yunho is weird, this is known. 

yuqi nods, pursing her lips. “wanna see?” 

“i do!” minnie answers without missing a beat, scooting over in the booth to bump yuqi’s side as she unlocks her phone. you don’t, and their reactions as they read over the wall of text tells you enough to know you made the right call for your own well-being. minnie tips her chin up, sympathy in her eyes as they meet yours. “i see why you moved out.” 

“so,” yuqi clasps her hands on the table, “we smokin’ fat doinks this weekend or what?” 

you shrug. “i have to check with mingi first. i don’t know if we’re already doing something— or if he’s even okay with that.” 

“just ditch him.” yuqi replies, like it’s nothing. 

“yeah, you see each other every day.” minnie rolls her eyes, and the tiny gesture lights a flame of anger low in your belly, smoke rising up your throat. she obnoxiously flicks her ponytail over her shoulder as she turns to yuqi, “you think shuhua would come?” 

“god, no. i’m not inviting her.” yuqi shivers, “i got high with her once, never again.” 

“wait, why?” minnie prompts with a giddy grin, not even hiding her blatant excitement over the gossip concerning another friend. 

“she kept scaring me, like saying she could see ghosts and hear their voices and shit. then she started kissing on me?”

“girl, i don’t know if the weed was doing all that..”

“wait, this was our shuhua?” you laugh in disbelief, and they both just stare at you with raised brows. 

“well duh.”

“you know any others?” 

“—no, it’s just, i mean..” you give a weak chuckle, feeling oddly insecure over their blunt reactions. “i can’t even picture her acting like that. she’s so shy.”

the girls shared a confused look, like you’re speaking a different language. that unwelcome, yet all too familiar feeling of being left out creeps back in, and you want this conversation over as soon as possible. 

yuqi speaks first, “shuhua is not shy.” 

“well, i don’t really hear her talk, let alone acting all crazy like that.” you shrug, tone falling flat, suddenly disinterested. 

“she does talk.” minnie adds, “just not to you.” 

you blink once, before the rising smoke enters your brain and suffocates any self-control left in there, nothing but heat as you snap, “what the fuck does that mean?” 

“nothing.” minnie replies quickly, waving her hand in the air like it’s so absurd, sneaking a glance at yuqi that you don’t miss. “you’re just not close, girl. don’t take it to heart.” 

easier said than done. there’s something here you’re missing, and they’re not saying either. you can fucking feel it. 

“woah, cat fight?” 

the familiar high, cute voice is enough to halt whatever shitstorm you were about to launch minnie and yuqi’s way — the both of them sighing in relief as soyeon plants a hand on your shoulder, miyeon in tow as she sidles up behind. 

honeyed skin with a chestnut bob, soyeon manages to calm you with just a look, scrunching her brows as if asking you’re okay without words. after a tight-lipped nod from you, she turns her stare to the pair across the booth. “you’re not teaming up on her again, are you?” 

yuqi loudly scoffed, “she’s way meaner to us!” 

miyeon giggles as she scoots into the seat beside you, the raven-haired princess pulling you in for a hug. “it’s okay, i’m on your side.” 

before the pair opposite to you can get a word in, soyeon slides into their side of the booth, like a parent sitting next to their misbehaving kids. soyeon tended to look after you all like that. you hadn’t explicitly told her that you still felt like an outsider at times, and yet she seemed to just know, having your back whenever that feeling reared its ugly head. such as now, no thanks to minnie and yuqi being vague as fuck about someone you considered a friend who might secretly hate your guts. 

while that anxiety doesn’t exactly disappear, it does make itself scarce as the five of you order your meals and fall into conversation; an easy rhythm you’ve perfected after hanging out every other day, on or off campus. 

today’s topic of choice being dick sizes, starring your boyfriend’s and brother’s group of friends, who have apparently mixed with your group like paint since their high school days. the one reason you had to be grateful that you weren’t around. 

“i’ve heard he’s thick.” minnie emphasises with a click of her tongue at the end, “and surprisingly, a real freak.” 

“it’s always the quiet ones.” miyeon shrugs, elegantly sipping her americano from a straw. 

“then what does that make san?” you add with a laugh, not actually expecting the answer yuqi gives in the form of her fingers held many inches apart. 

“what? that big?” minnie gawks, while yuqi nods with a smirk. “no way..” 

“girl, he used to be so skinny, that’s how you know it’s like, banana long.” 

“well how do you even know?” soyeon finally pipes in, having nothing to add to the conversation as a raging lesbian. “haven’t he and wooyoung been dating since forever?” 

yuqi tucks her blonde locks behind an ear, playfully running her tongue over her lips. “a little birdy told me that sometimes, they let people join..” 

“it was seonghwa, right?” minnie snorts at the way yuqi’s brows furrow in shock. “he’s such a slut.” 

yuqi swats her shoulder, “then what does that make me!” 

the table erupts into cackles, yuqi blushing and stammering as she tries to defend her good name. 

“you’re gonna fuck woosan?” soyeon asks, trying and failing to hide the slight judgment on her face. 

“they’re gonna fuck me.” yuqi states proudly, while you cheer her on. “and i’m gatekeeping the deets from you prudish bitches.” 

“wow, friendship ende— oh shit,” minnie’s neck snaps forward abruptly, wide eyes darting around the booth as she murmurs, “guess who just walked in with karina.” 

you look over your shoulder, never giving a fuck about subtlety, and immediately regret not asking first as your gaze snags on the who. 

your chest cinches in shock, the girls muttering words that don’t reach your ears over the ringing in them, the world around you crumbling away as your sight tunnel visions on yunho; holding karina with a snug arm around her waist, his eyes already having found you. 

you don’t register the way your girls avert their attention under yunho’s heavy glare, ignoring his presence while it completely sucks you in. he nods along to whatever karina’s saying, lips curling into a grin the longer you refuse to break eye contact, no doubt your face wearing all of your frantic thoughts. 

in the corner of your vision, karina follows his line of sight, her glossy lips pulling into a sneer before she makes a show of pressing them to yunho’s cheek, a would-be kiss if only he had turned his head away from your direction. and he lets her. 

you feel like you can’t breathe, can’t even blink as you watch his large hand squeeze her waist, firm enough to make her lashes flutter with bedroom eyes, before he reaches to pull out a chair at their table for two. you could smack the smirk off karina’s face as she flips her shiny black hair over her shoulder, sitting her perfect body with curves in all the right places down.  

yunho just beams at you — obnoxiously, mockingly — like he’s showing off a new trophy, throwing it in your face and rubbing it in till it stings. and god does it burn. 

he tips his chin at your table, lifting his brows like he’s asking if he can come cover. you shake your head profusely, catching curious glances from the girls as yunho chuckles from across the restaurant. thankfully, he listens, facing away as he pulls out his own seat across from karina. 

it looked normal, you think. nothing about that exchange would imply anything other than siblings — yet nothing about the conflict swirling in your head is how a sibling should feel. 

why does it bother you so much? you asked him to leave you alone, to basically stop trying to fuck you at any chance he gets, and yet why do your thoughts read homicide as you stare at your replacement? 

that’s all karina is, right? it’s not like you’re on speaking terms with him, but surely you would at least hear from an excited stepmother if yunho had a girlfriend. she couldn’t be. he couldn’t like her that much, he couldn’t want her if he meant what he told you, this is all just to piss you off and yet it’s working— 

“how big was he?” miyeon whispers, curious eyes flicking to you. your heart actually stops for a good moment, mortified to your soul as you question if you heard that right, because surely she can’t be asking you? 

minnie and yuqi react audibly, the pair of them answering as they replicate yunho’s size with their fingers, debating each other’s memory as their scales differ slightly. you’re still thousand-yard staring at miyeon, which soyeon picks up on, fast to tell the girls to cut it out with how you’re “obviously uncomfortable” since this is “your brother they’re talking about”. 

miyeon covers her mouth in a gasp, face paling under her pretty pink blush as she exclaims, “yunho’s your brother?? oh my gosh!” she falls into your shoulder with an embarrassed giggle, “i remember seeing you really close together at a party, i thought you were— ahh! i’m so sorry!” 

a little part of you dies inside, thinking of just how many people saw you acting like a drunk, clingy mess and assumed the same. there’s also the fact that she really was asking you how big he is. 

“okay, well, this is awkward and i need to pee, so.” yuqi announces as she stands up, planting her hands on her hips with a pout at the lack of response. “no one wants to come with?” 

“i will.” minnie fake grumbles, earning an offended scoff from the blonde as they both shuffle out from the booth. 

once they’re out of earshot, soyeon makes a puzzled face as she asks, “so they’re cool with yunho now?” getting miyeon to giggle. 

you look between them, recognising you’re not in the know for the second time today. “what are you talking about?” 

miyeon and soyeon share a glance, one that you’re on the outside of again, except you can see the moment that they agree to let you in. 

“uh, this isn’t us being shady, but..” miyeon starts, looking to soyeon for reassurance, which she gets in a nod. “those girls used to sleep with yunho. i think it started just after you moved? yeah, yuqi and minnie ended up having a massive fight over it. he was messing around with both of them at the same time and they didn’t tell each other.” 

well, that part was new information. you definitely didn’t see it coming, but you can’t say you’re too surprised. from what the girls have owned up to, and what mingi has recounted for you, it was clear that yunho lost himself for a bit during that first year. when it dawned on him that you weren’t coming back, that he’d lost you for good, he pounced on the closest thing to you to warm his bed. 

in the sickest, saddest way, it makes you feel even more related to him. yunho was trying to drown out the pain in his heart by fucking whoever reminded him of you most. and by playing them both, it sounds as if he was channeling his pain outwardly — if he can’t be happy without you, then no one else can. 

“i do know.” you admit, which takes them both aback. “it’s okay. i get why they did.” 

soyeon motions at you with her hand, “elaborate?”

you turn your attention down to your glass of water again, unwilling to meet their eyes as the raw, vulnerable truth rushes to the forefront of your thoughts. 

“yunho.. he’s got a way.” you smile ruefully, accepting that this is going to spill out whether you let it or not. “he’s so bright on his own, you can’t help but want to feel that warmth. and when he lets you in on it— it feels like nothing else matters.” you don’t care if this is too weird for a sister to say anymore, the feeling cathartic as you confess, “he’s so smart, too. he knows how to use it to his advantage, and he always gets what he wants. he’s good. he’s really.. good.” you trail off, self-consciousness arriving too late as it suddenly crawls up the back of your neck, making you acutely aware of the way they’re staring at you. you clear your throat. “so, yeah. i can see how they fell for him.” 

miyeon resolves to sipping her americano instead of answering, while soyeon nods, taking everything in; the table entirely too quiet for your comfort. when she finally speaks up, it’s with a voice free of judgement as she says, “what is it about this guy that drives people insane?” 

miyeon chuckles, laying her head on your shoulder, while you try to follow along; letting this pass as a silly, forgettable moment, and not an impulsive confession from piles of laundry too dirty for what you think they’re ready to hear. 

“guess who woosan just invited to the welcome-back party?!” yuqi boasts as she saunters in, her voice careening from deep to dainty as she adds, “me, that’s who.” 

“we’re all invited every year,” minnie snickers, shoving yuqi into the booth first, the blonde gasping as she twists around and smacks her. 

“welcome-back party.. is that the one happening next weekend?” you ask. 

“yup,” miyeon answers, popping the ‘p’. “the boys throw a big one every semester, since freshman year. will you come?” 

“yeah, but mingi invited me, so i’ll be going with him.” you reply, earning two groans from the bickering girls with fistfuls of each other’s hair across the table from you. 

soyeon puts on her strict voice as she says both their names, like a mother about to start counting to three, and the moment passes as you’re all back to cracking jokes and talking shit. all the while, you ignore the unmistakable heat of yunho’s eyes flicking to you every other second. 

──

“ohmigosh, did you guys see what giselle posted on—”

“don’t care. stop distracting me.”

minnie gawks at you, uncaring if the snappy blonde looked up from her laptop and caught it. you sat on opposite ends of the large L-shaped couch — a statement of the family’s money as soon as you walked through the front door — a platter of snacks in minnie’s lap as you watched old kpop music videos on the cinema-sized flatscreen tv, on mute per yuqi’s demand. the blonde had taken the corner, glaring at her screen as her fingers flew across the keyboard, only pausing briefly to rain on your parade. 

“damn, what’s up your ass?” you butt in, at minnie’s defense. 

“not woosan.” she snickers, giving you a high-five. 

yuqi rubs at her temples before her arms extend out, all ten fingers pointing at the pair of you. “i’m at a really hard part of this paper right now, i’m literally doing math in my head, can you please stay quiet for like, five minutes?”

you and minnie nod with pursed lips, side-eyeing each other to check you’re both holding your laughter right now. yuqi did not play around when it came to schoolwork — a switch would flip in her usual silly, charming self, and you’d end up with the grinch sat across from you who was on the verge of kicking you both out. 

this was your fault, really. you had impulsively asked minnie to hang out, and she drove you both to yuqi’s place, under the assumption she still intended to get high. turns out, the bleach did more than just turn her hair blonde, since yuqi had completely forgotten about an assignment due on monday. she decided to let you accompany her while she was cramming it — or at least attempting to, while getting distracted and then barking at you for it. 

despite it, you needed this, today. stress had you cornered from all angles, and you needed something that could block it out, even just temporarily before the weekend was over; something that wouldn’t disappoint mingi further. 

you’ve been juggling a lot. what you previously had down pat in a rhythm, a routine, was suddenly falling from your grip and toppling all over you. maintaining your good grades, keeping the peace between your bickering friends, casually being around yunho while he’s replacing you with karina — weeks of consistent pressure had piled up on your plate, and the one steady thing you had going, the one part of your life you never had to doubt, was taking the brunt of it as a result. 

you and mingi just aren’t getting along. he’s steadfast as he always is in making it work, in talking it out until you both reach a satisfied conclusion, but having to self-reflect on your messy fucking brain every day is making you lose it. it’s why you needed today: you get to decompress with your friends, and you told him to do the same. not that you stuck around to find out if he listened. you were out the door and sitting in minnie’s car before your boyfriend could even say ‘bye’. 

the hum of an engine outside has your head turning in recognition, though you choose to ignore it, focusing back on the tv where t.o.p’s pissing on g-dragon in the zutter music video. 

a ding has minnie checking her phone, catching your attention as she slides the snack platter onto the couch, standing up. “shuhua’s here,” she announces, headed for the door. 

“shuhua’s here?” yuqi repeats, clearly thrilled to have more company. 

“yeah, i invited her after you texted me.” minnie says, glancing at you as she flips the lock on the door. “she said she had something to do first.” 

the door swings open and in steps shuhua: deep brown hair falling in waves to her waist, the cutest cami and skirt set hugging her figure, a tiny, satisfied smirk on her face as her gaze sweeps over the room. eyes narrowing a fraction as they land on you. 

“and where have you been?” yuqi exclaims, shooting a lethal glare at the youngest. 

shuhua sits on the couch with a guilty giggle. “mingi just dropped me off.” 

it’s as if all air is sucked from the room as you’re rendered stiff from shock, yuqi continuing to interrogate shuhua on her recent aloofness, while minnie watches you from the corner of her eye. your heart grips in your chest as that nearby engine drives off, and you realise you did recognise it, because it was your boyfriend’s car. 

what the fuck is going on?

“wh—um, you said mingi?” you interrupt them unapologetically, trying and failing to not let your immediate, hysterical thoughts take the wheel. “you were just with him?” 

shuhua nods, impassive. “yeah. we were hanging out.” she sneaks a glance at yuqi. big mistake. 

“why?” you snap, eyes shooting daggers into hers. the other two are quick to interject with stammers of your name, trying to stop this before it starts. 

“they’re friends,” minnie rushes to explain, to defend her. “they’ve been good friends for years.” 

shuhua smiles proudly at you, and she may as well be pointing and laughing in your face. 

“huh, weird that no one told me.” you snark, your bitter grin falling flat as you pick up your phone, shutting yourself off. 

the vibe had completely gone to shit, an uncomfortable amount of tension hanging in the air as the girls look between one another. they change the subject, voices on eggshells as they try to avoid setting you off. 

and for good reason — you don’t even care. mingi hadn’t mentioned diddlysquat to you about hanging out with a girl alone, a girl who was supposed to be ‘your friend’ too. you can question the weight of that now though, considering shuhua’s never made an effort to get to know you, and had probably been avoiding you while you were over here wondering how you could break the ice. 

when did you get so trusting? so fucking easy to fool? 

there’s no way they aren’t all in on this, plotting against you, even mingi hid it. frantic, you think back to the empty condom packets in his car, how he’d told you they weren’t his. and it’s true, he hasn’t kept any in his room, but if he’s been driving shuhua around… 

you did tell him that you needed space, that you were hanging out with friends and he should do the same, you just— you didn’t think it’d be this. you didn’t think he’d hurt you. 

[you] please call me

you set the phone down on your thigh, staring at the carpeted floor as you wait, then act like you’re startled when it begins to ring not even ten seconds after. 

you pick it up, the girls pretending like they’re not listening as you make a face at the so unexpected caller before answering. 

you don’t even get a word out as he’s instantly asking, “are you okay?” 

“hey, what’s up?” you greet him, shrugging in response to minnie’s arched brow. 

your heart sinks as you hear a girl’s voice in the background, which is quickly muffled as a door closes. shutting her out. 

gently, yunho says, “you tell me, baby.” 

“uh, i’m kind of at yuqi’s, why?” you prompt him, knowing he’s smart enough to catch on. 

yunho chuckles as it clicks. “ah, i see how it is. you wanna get out of there?”

your face drops in accordance to your fake response, “oh, shit. okay. i’ll see you soon?” 

he hums, his smirk audible even through the phone, and your thighs press together at the deep noise. “yeah. you will.” 

you catch karina’s voice again, asking yunho something beyond the door, and yet the call doesn’t end until you hang up.

“yunho called,” you announce, answering their nosey stares. “something happened with my dad, i think. he’s coming to get me now.” 

“your dad.” shuhua repeats, humming as she takes the information in. you blink, silently daring her to give you a reason to pop off. “i’ve been meaning to ask, what’s the deal there? are you half-siblings, step-siblings, your parents just date..?” 

you gulp down all the curses you long to throw at her cocky little smile. “they were married, and got divorced, but they’re back together now.” nausea spreads its tendrils through your gut as you feel the need to say, “yunho and i aren’t related by blood.” 

“noted.” shuhua replies, giggling at how serious your face had fallen. “i just think it’s funny, ‘cause some people thought you were dating.” 

your frown deepens, jaw grinding your teeth to dust. ‘you’re thinking it, aren’t you?’ you so badly want to say. ‘you think you know us, you think you know what’s going on between us, but you don’t. you’ll never understand. calling him my brother isn’t enough. yunho means more than that to me, and he loves me more than you’ll ever feel in your life.’

“so funny.” is all you say, deadpan. 

all four heads turn at the approaching rumble of an engine, and it’s only a few moments later that your phone’s buzzing in your hands. 

[DO NOT ANSWER] Here baby

that was.. suspiciously quick. after saying a curt goodbye, giving a half-assed hug to minnie who cornered you on your way out, then sliding into the passenger side of yunho’s car, you tell him as much. 

“you speed here or what?” 

he chuckles, eyes tracking the seatbelt as it crosses your chest. “i was in the neighbourhood.” 

you don’t think too much of it, already blurting out, “everyone’s being so fucking weird.” 

he hums, intrigued. “trouble in paradise?” 

“wouldn’t you like to know.” you scoff, knowing full well you’re about to rant every last detail. “ugh. either i’m losing my mind, or everyone secretly hates me.” 

“i don’t.” yunho replies, smug as ever while you glare at him. “what makes you think that, though?” 

“i can tell the girls are keeping something from me, i just don’t know what.” you frown, the ache of jealousy welling up in your chest. “and mingi hung out with shuhua without telling me.” 

yunho’s head snaps to you at her name, just as quick to snap back to the road, and it has your chest twisting in fear, wondering what the hell that reaction is supposed to mean. he sighs, pressing his lips into a firm line. “that’s shitty of him to hide it from you.” 

“you seem well informed.” you quip bluntly, not expecting him to throw his head back in a laugh. a smile fights its way to your lips, just before they begin to tremble, green flashing hot in your vision. “why would he do this, yunho?” 

your voice dropping to a shaky whisper has him ripping his eyes from the road to check your face, his brows pinched in worry, fingers tightening around the wheel. it still hurts him to see you like this, at least. “i can’t answer for him,” he replies, meeting your eyes to let you see the sincerity in them. “but hiding it implies he’s aware it’ll upset you, for whatever reason that may be.” 

“well, he’s right to think that.” you seethe, crossing your arms as you sink into the seat. “i am fucking upset now.” 

yunho smiles, wide and bright, and you know he must be overjoyed that you and mingi aren’t all sunshine and rainbows right now. despite knowing that to be fact, it’s oddly… comforting speaking to him, hearing his opinion, being able to rant without him following up with therapy talk. asking for his help and him listening without question, even after everything that’s happened. 

you’re starting to wonder if you’ve outgrown your group of friends, your own boyfriend, with how things have been falling apart now that you’ve settled back in. the initial excitement has worn off, and they’ve all begun to realise why you never kept in touch all those years. the fact that yunho is the only one in your good graces right now should be incredibly alarming. 

maybe it’s because you’re out of practice for emotional intimacy; the basis of all close bonds. at the old town, no girl friendships ever stuck, and all guy friendships ended with a fuck. it was more your fault than theirs. you never invested more than a surface-level version of yourself, with the sole exception of soobin of course — who you only kept around so long because he’s your stepbrother’s doppleganger. 

you’re too invested in every little doubt your brain churns out that you hadn’t realised where exactly yunho was driving to. it’s not until he parks by the curb out front that the panic settles in, your eyes on the familiar car in the driveway, avoiding the face that appears in the second-floor window. “why did you take me here?” 

yunho wrecks you with a soft smile. “no one’s at home right now, and i know you don’t like being there alone, so.” 

“why aren’t you home?” 

he reaches to unbuckle your seatbelt for you, effectively ignoring the question. “i’ll see you at school, baby.” 

it dawns on you that, once again, you’ve had a completely one-sided conversation. yunho hadn’t said a single thing about himself — like why he was in the area at all — only interested in prying information out of you. 

he’s not home because he’d be at karina’s, meeting her family and laying in her bed, that’s fucking why.

to your luck, the front door to the house swings open, cutting off anything you could’ve hoped to yell at yunho. the frame is filled up by mingi, leaning on it with his arms crossed, his face twisted in a scowl. 

“thanks, asshole.” you grit out, practically kicking the car door open without a glance back, ignoring his sweet “anytime.” before you’re slamming it shut.

your boyfriend watches the car as it zooms off, his hardened glare falling as he looks to you, pretty features knitted in worry. “are you okay?” he asks, arms dropping to his sides, already reaching for you as you approach. 

you push past him, knocking shoulders as he turns with you, wide eyes on your back. “fine.” 

“did something happen—”

“you tell me!” you snap, whirling on him. mingi flinches as you raise your voice, large frame shrinking in on itself. his lost eyes beg you for an answer, and you just laugh bitterly. “had fun with shuhua?” 

mingi’s adam’s apple bobs in a gulp, and you watch the way a guard slides over his face, preparing himself for the incoming outburst. he says your name as he reaches for your hand, and you snatch it back without thinking. the pain shows on his face instantly and openly, and it crushes you. guilt strikes you in the chest, and it takes you back. gives your blind rage enough pause for mingi to attempt to reach for you again. this time, you let him, his fingers sliding over the back of your hand, thumb finding the inside of your wrist. he strokes his thumb over your pulse; back and forth, back and forth. settling you with just a touch. you don’t want all his patience to go to waste, so you bite your tongue and wait for him to talk first. to explain himself. 

“shuhua is a friend.” mingi starts carefully. “we’ve been close for years, but i haven’t really spoken to her since you got back. i figured we could catch up today, and i was going to tell you about it when you got home.” he sounds honest enough — it sounds real enough. as if sensing your doubt, his eyes lock with yours as he affirms, “i promise you.” 

you want to believe him. you want to stop this itch at the back of your neck, the whisper in your ear that can’t help but ask, ‘how could he?’. how could mingi only want you? how could he, genuinely, love you? after the wringer your family’s put him through?

both hands grasp his biceps suddenly, eyes boring into his chest where his heart pumps, overcome with the desire to forget all of this, to numb your brain and channel this energy elsewhere. he can see it as your gaze find his, pleading how you want him — need him. 

mingi licks his lips, clearly intending to give in, but not before he asks the question that’s been burning down the inside of his head since you got here. 

“you and yunho hung out?” he says tentatively, so unsure of himself, nothing but a mutter. it melts your heart before completely ripping it up. your palms slide down his arms, fingers lacing with his. 

“oh, no. he just dropped me home. i was with yuqi and minnie, i swear.” 

he nods, eyes flicking down to your hands, so fast you could miss it. though he smiles at you like he’s reassured, it reveals the thoughts that he won’t voice. he was waiting for you to touch your face — he was waiting for you to lie. 

──

“for fuck’s sake!” you curse, rummaging around in your tote bag to snatch out your ringing phone as it rudely interrupts you mid-sentence. 

“just ignore him.” minnie mutters, bored as she picks at her acrylic nails, earning a warning glare from soyeon. 

“i have been.” you roll your eyes, having lost count on what number call this is as you slide to hang up yet again. the first time you had answered, reassuring him that class had run a little late and that you’d see him soon. the second time you tried to ignore it, feeling guilty as you locked eyes with his contact picture — a cute candid of him smiling with his chin in his hands, looking up at you in bed — and from the third call onwards it got annoying very quickly. 

ever since yunho drove you to his place on saturday, mingi has been leeched to your side like nobody’s business. if anything, you thought you would be hung up over him and shuhua, but you got that all out of your system after he fucked the jealousy out of you — and somehow caught it himself. you just can’t get him to stop clinging. you get it, he’s proved he only has eyes for you, but now it’s suffocating. 

“how about you tell us later, when you’re free.” soyeon suggests, tipping her head at your phone. “you should see what he wants.”

“my attention, that’s what.” you groan. “i wanted to join you guys for drinks tonight.”

“another friday,” soyeon reassures with a smile, “the welcome-back party’s tomorrow anyways, we’ll see you there.”

“but we won’t get to hang out!” you argue, and she just shrugs, already walking off with minnie. leaving you standing in the courtyard alone, no choice but to give your giant, embarrassing boyfriend the attention he’s so desperate for. 

rolling your eyes, you tap away at your phone, before your head’s whipping in the direction of a sudden shout of your name. your eyes widen at the sight of mingi bounding over, like a dog to a bone. 

“hey.” mingi huffs once he’s in front of you, running a hand through his tousled hair, your eyes instinctively tracking his bicep. “why weren’t you answering me?” 

“why were you spamming me like a psycho?” you retort, jutting your face at him. 

his brows flip over, looking down at you with those sad puppy eyes. “i’ve been waiting for you at the library. you were taking a while, i didn’t know if...” he trails off, and you only understand why when there’s a familiar chuckle behind you, your neck cracking with how fast you turn back. 

yunho, sitting cross-legged on the grass in a circle with three other boys: all bronze skinned, two with black hair, one with a deep crimson in the middle. you recognise the redhead as wooyoung, his left arm slung around san’s, yet his chin leaning on the shoulder of the boy to the right — body leaner, face sharper with shaggy shoulder-length hair, wooyoung whispering into his ear as they both stare directly at you. 

san’s attention is preoccupied as he flashes a dimpled smile at yunho, your brother’s mouth moving at a mile a minute, too wrapped up in whatever he’s saying to notice you. 

is this why mingi was bombarding you with calls? was he worried that yunho would.. get to you? take you away? you get your confirmation when you look to mingi, waiting for you to speak with big, guilty eyes. 

“okay.” you say flatly. “let’s go.”

per his request in the first call, you found the rest of your afternoon spent in the library with mingi, textbooks and laptops spread out on your table as you studied together. or, at least, you tried to study while mingi sulked across from you, eyes flitting to you every two seconds like his exam was on what pissed you off and not whatever topic was printed in the thick book in front of him. his anxiety was palpable, leaving a foul taste in your mouth, so with an intake of breath you decided to cut the tension with your voice. 

“i’m sorry, mingi.” you start in a gentle murmur, eyes on the table, knowing you’d break if you met his. “i know i’ve been snappy lately. i’m just really stressed out, and i—” cut off. once again, you’re cut off by the low hum of a phone vibrating. 

your eyes widen as they land on mingi’s phone, bright and buzzing with a call from shuhua. despite how quick he swipes to hang it up, you could tell it was her, because of her contact photo — a photo of them, together. their cheeks smushed together to fit in the frame, their smiles almost connected in a kiss. it looked like a couple’s photo, for fuck’s sake.

you’re completely wiped of any apologies. 

“actually,” you start before you can stop, all the spite that’s lurked in the depths of your brain taking full rein of your voice. “i don’t think i can do this anymore.”

“what??” he blurts out, paying no mind to the turning heads as he blanches at you. “wh-what? you— why? why not?”

a small, supressed part of you feels horrible for the way silver lines his eyes, mouth trembling as he toes the verge of breaking down. though, you’re more concerned with drawing attention in the library, so you try to soften the blow before he explodes. 

“i need a step back, from us.” you double down, his lashes almost overflowing with unshed tears. “i’m really struggling. you know that, mingi. i can’t keep letting it hurt our relationship. i need time.. to myself, to get everything in order before i can think about taking care of someone else.”

“you don’t need to take care of me, i’m here to help you. that’s my job.” he tries to fight it, like it’s just another passing moment of self-doubt he has to talk you out of. bless his heart. “i love you. you hear me? i love you, nothing could ever change that.”

his phone lockscreen lights up with a string of notifications before shuhua’s calling again, mingi cussing under his breath as he hangs up, yet it only stretches the rift between you. what business does she have blowing up his phone like she has a right to his time — like you do?

“just stop ignoring her, mingi.” you try not to spit, keeping your voice even. “go to her. she can comfort you.”

he blinks through his blurred vision, with upturned brows and a gut-wrenching pout. he blinks until he knows for sure that this is real life, that this is serious. you’re really done with him. 

“do you think..” he trails off when his voice cracks, clearing his throat before starting again. “are we still together?”

you frown, hating the way he sounds so fucking wrecked, how it’s all your fault. “not right now, no. i can’t, mingi.”

“what about after?” 

you smile ruefully, clenching your fists under the table, resisting the urge to touch your face before you answer. “i need to get there first, okay?”

honestly, you didn’t know. you’re not sure he’ll even want you again. not with shuhua on his tail. but it’s for the best — she is what’s best for him. it’s very likely that mingi was just bonded to you out of guilt, and you’re not actually meant to be together. you’re not beneficial for each other. 

mingi doesn’t want to, but he nods, accepting it. because he’d never argue with you.

──

you didn’t give a fuck. neither did he as he tipped the bottom of the shot glass to the roof, draining the sour liquor down your throat. you squeezed your eyes for half a second as you pushed it down, opening them with a squeal as the alcohol spread warm through your chest; heat flaring in your nose, eyes watering a little from its bite. 

the boy with the soft face and thick bangs just marvelled at you, dapping you up. “you take it better than my hyungs.” 

you giggled so hard you could kiss him, instinctively leaning into his side, skin already buzzing. you’d found him in the kitchen, beelining here after slipping through the front door, any escape from your sight futile as soon as you demanded he give you the strongest shit this place has got. he’d cocked his head, asked if you were sure, then challenged you to an arm wrestle — which lasted about a millisecond before he was pouring you a shot of the lime-scented spirit. 

you’d had a coughing fit, wiped your mouth, then presented your hand for a second round. you’ve lost count of how many times he’s pinned your wrist to the counter, but you don’t care as long as the drinks keep flowing down your throat. 

you can just vaguely recall his name — jongho — the one minnie said had a thick dick and a freak in the sheets. you were contemplating finding out, biting your lip as he told you some story you weren’t hearing, right until you register a second presence in the kitchen. 

“yeosangie!” jongho greets, beckoning him over with open arms. your breath hitched, the sight of him sucking you right back into memories you’d rather leave buried in your current state. 

rich brown hair falling in wisps around his face, the rest pulled up with a ribbon into a short ponytail. the years had left him even more gorgeous, yet his eyes still wide as they always were, flicking between you both. 

jongho introduces you to yeosang by name — like he doesn’t already know it — which you realise that you never provided. 

“wait— you know me?” 

“of course i do.” jongho snickers. “mingi doesn’t shut up about you.”

that name has your gut twisting, longing to burn with even more alcohol until it forgets. yeosang’s eyes manage to widen more as he says, “but aren’t you with yunho?” 

you’re about two seconds from snatching the bottle of lime liquor from jongho’s unnecessarily strong hands. 

“bro, she’s his sister.”

yeosang’s face pinches in silent shock, and you take that as a sign to prop your elbow back up on the counter, daring jongho to win another round of arm-wrestling. he just tuts at you, wagging a finger.

“uh-uh, i can hear them calling my name for beer pong.” right on cue, san’s screaming from across the house, summoning jongho like he’s the final boss. “i’ll be right back.” he pats yeosang on the shoulder, muttering something you can’t hear despite straining to. 

jongho takes the liquor bottle with him as he disappears behind the archway, and you don’t waste a second in marching over to the fridge, ignoring yeosang’s frantic stammers as you lug it open and grab the first alcoholic drink your fingers can find. 

ah, a nice cold can of beer. you hate the taste of this shit. fitting, you guess, since you’ve only ever used to drink them when sneaking some from your dad. now you’ve got not one but two things to remind you of the worst period of your life. you look to the other, popping the can open and taking a hearty swig while holding his worried stare. a bead of liquid runs down your chin and drops to your chest, yet yeosang’s eyes are focused entirely on yours. a part of you is disappointed. 

he gulps, oddly intimidated. “when did.. you and yunho..?” 

“yep. my stepbrother. since we were kids.” you shrug, licking your lips. “it’s a long story.” yeosang wears his bafflement plainly, and you know he must be drawing the similarities between yunho and soobin. eager to distract him, you ask, “you still a nerd?” 

that gets him to chuckle, albeit awkwardly. “i guess, yeah. i moved here on a scholarship.” you respond in the form of a nod, and an uncomfortable silence falls between you, yeosang fidgeting with his thumbs as he thinks of how to fill it. “uh, so what brings you back?” 

you grimace at another hefty sip of the beer. you won’t care about the taste when you’re gone enough, and you need the liquid courage right now. this small-talk is boring the hell out of you, and you know yeosang wouldn’t let you fuck him again, so you’re going to have to bear it. 

“our parents got back together. i figured it’s about time i go back to school, too.” you frown, right before the words come tumbling out, “i’m sorry by the way.” 

yeosang’s eyes soften, head tilting. “what for?”

for breaking your friend’s heart, finding out you had a crush on me then fucking you, just to get back with said friend… “um. everything?” 

he shakes his head, shifting closer. “you know i’m not upset over it, right?” he smiles, reminiscent. “i still haven’t told anyone” 

your brows scrunch. “soobin never found out?” 

yeosang laughs, genuine this time, shining his teeth in a grin. “it’s funny, he told me a bit ago that he always knew. but it didn’t seem like he cared.” 

you shiver, cringing. “you still talk?” 

“sometimes. he still asks about you.” he giggles at your groan. “also, he told me he’s been dating men.” 

your eyes bug out of your head. “seriously?” 

“yeah. said you were the only girl he ever loved. thought you should know.” 

“damn, i broke his heart so bad he turned gay.” you ponder down at your beer. “no, that uh.. that actually makes a lot of sense.” 

“it’s crazy seeing you again.” he muses, crossing his arms, the muscles bulging. you ogle without a care in the world, and he furrows his brows, coy. “so.. you and mingi? when did that happen?”

instead of answering, you flip the beer can with a tip of your chin, emptying the rest of it in a swift gulp. yeosang has to grab your wrists to stop you from crushing the can against your forehead, overcome with the urge to beat the pathetic thoughts out of there by force. 

freshly single and depressed, you’d dragged yourself out of your tear-stained bedsheets, dolled yourself up in the tiniest and tightest dress you own, and still showed up for the welcome-back party; eager to drink away your sorrows. neither the girls nor mingi knew that you ended up coming, but you figured you’d find company on your own just fine — particularly someone with a bed you could warm tonight. 

your skin was on fire under yeosang’s hands holding your shoulders, his mellow voice like honey in your ears. “how about we drink some water now?” he near-pleads, trying to sit you down on a stool by the island bench while you’re actively fighting him, eyes honed on the fridge. 

“hey, baby.” 

that fucking word has a shiver racing up your back, your saucer eyes darting to the archway — confused as they land on the crimson-haired, honey-skinned boy there instead. he’s smirking at yeosang like he’s walked in on something he shouldn’t have, and you realise that the petname was directed at him, not you. 

wooyoung faux-gasps, waltzing into the kitchen with a hand on his chest. “how dare you cheat on sannie’s boyfriend with mangi’s girlfriend?!” 

yeosang closes his eyes with a tired sigh, murmuring lowly to you, “we’re not—”

“you can act a tease all you want, sangie, i’m gonna catch you one of these days.” wooyoung rounds on him quickly and smacks a kiss to his cheek, the elder audibly recoiling. the redhead menace leans his hip against the counter, taking you in with hungry eyes. “and what are you doing here all alone, sweetie?”

you giggle, swaying in the spot, your empty stomach expediting the effects of the chugged beer. both boys reach for you, their hands ready to catch as they hover in the air. wooyoung tips his chin as he murmurs something to yeosang, the brunette shaking his head in response, and you seethe over being left out. 

wooyoung steadies you as you start for the fridge, chuckling at your disappointed pout. “aw, don’t pull that face at me, ‘cause it’ll work.” you fall forward into his chest, hoping it’ll entice him into giving you another drink, but he just pulls you off with gentle arms. his smile is still playful as he looks down at you, yet his eyes swirl with something softer. “do you remember me?” already tipsy, there’s a roadblock stopping you from accessing any memories that aren’t here and now, so you just shake your head at him. “we went to the same high school. i was in the year above, with sangie.” his smile stretches wider as your brows flip over, silently terrified for where this could be going. “i was friends with soobin. we met a few times.”

you gulp, feeling too vulnerable under their heavy gazes. “did we… did you and i ever—”

“we kissed once during truth or dare.” he pats your shoulder, sensing you need the reassurance. “don’t worry. i might be a slut, but i’m mindful about it. i won’t take a friend’s girl.”

you and yeosang share a glance. “oh.. okay.”

you choose peace by believing wooyoung’s version of the story, since yours is a complete blank from around that time. you were fully expecting to hear that you’d fucked him while shitfaced, and it wouldn’t even come as a surprise. those last few years of high school you spent at the town had all blurred into one; days and faces blending across weekends hollowed by liquor. the only memory that ever stuck was soobin — and well, it’d help that he has yunho’s face.

wooyoung cackles to snap you out of your little rumination, jostling you until you reluctantly smile, taking you under his arm and leading you to the fridge. yeosang goes to protest, but wooyoung just puckers his lips at him as he walks by, silencing the brunette with the threat of a kiss. “don’t be a party pooper, sangie. she’s still allowed to drink.”

wooyoung digs around in the fridge, bottles and cans clinking as he stuffs his hands with a mix of poison. he sets out three red plastic cups on the counter, filling them almost to the brim with two different bottles of clear liquor, then topped with a dash of raspberry soda. if you weren’t desperate to be black-out drunk, you’d question whether he’s trying to kill you. wooyoung hands you one of the special cocktails, tapping his cup to yours while yeosang shakes his head. “here’s to soobin.”

bottom’s up, you let the bitter drink sting your throat until you’re almost choking on it. you pull back as you cough, tears in your eyes as the alcohol hits you full-force, yet you continue to take little sips until your body settles down. 

“damn.” san comments, peering into your already half-empty cup. you blink blearily as you register the new presence, the wide-shouldered stud slinging an arm around his boyfriend’s waist. dimples pop from his cheeks as he smiles at you, helping himself to the third cup on the counter. “you with us?”

you nod, bringing a hand to your forehead as it throbs harshly, pissed off at you for chugging poison. you distract yourself with another gulp of the drink; you need to be gone enough to not register pain. 

san brings the cup to his nose, gagging just at the smell. he narrows his eyes at wooyoung. “how could you give her this shit?”

“she’s tanking it, isn’t she!” wooyoung marvels at you, somehow still standing, when he himself felt nausesous and had to hold his breath after the cheers. “i heard you were almost outdrinking us at sannie’s birthday. i wanted to say hi, but yunho was all over you. couldn’t interrupt the lovebirds.” 

for a second, the kitchen falls silent enough to hear a pin drop. the boys staring at wooyoung, you suddenly interested in the colour of your drink. the redhead cusses as he realises his error. 

“shit, i shouldn’t say that. he’s with karina now, isn’t he..” wooyoung leans in with a hand shielding his mouth from san, whispering, “looked better with you though.” 

you force a smile, mentally prepared for their reactions as you reply, “he’s my stepbrother.”

yeosang puts his head in his hands as the couple loudly react in shock, lots of ‘but why’s thrown in there. it puts into perspective how fucking weird your sibling relationship was from the outside, even before you did anything together. people assuming you were dating should’ve been the wake-up call, but you wanted to think that it was only because yunho’s never been openly close with a girl like that. because your bond is special and it only has to make sense to you two. jealousy over your own brother should’ve been the wake-up call for yourself.

“my whole family calls me ‘baby’. yunho and i have always been really close.” you answer to one of their many questions. wooyoung nods along, starting to get it, while san’s face screw up even more. 

speaking out loud, san wonders, “but why did he get like that on my..” he catches himself, waving it off. “nevermind.” 

your heart sinks, wanting to hide from what’s coming and yet longing to hear it. “why did he what?” 

wooyoung presses his lips into a firm line, electing himself as the bearer of bad news as san refuses to elaborate. “on sannie’s birthday. you left, and when yunho realised, he was freaking out. he was asking everyone if they’d seen you, and he just kept drinking, not chilling out for one second. poor joongie, he had to be the one to console angry bigfoot.” your heartstrings are in knots as you recall the voicemail from hongjoong, the dark bags under yunho’s eyes. “and then he started crying. like, really bad. he kept saying he wanted you, he needed to find you, cussing mingi out. we all thought mingi stole you from him. i don’t even know how hongjoong managed to get him home, since sannie and i were fuckin’ nasty upstairs.”

you nod, barely giving it time to sink in before you’re chucking back the rest of your drink, much to the boys’ surprise. their frantic words can’t stop you from downing it, and your head spins for only a moment before you’re back — barely there, but conscious. standing, blinking, breathing. eager for more. 

wooyoung cheers, pulling you into his side. “finally, someone who wants to fucking party!” you don’t notice the equally worried and disappointed expressions on san and yeosang; nor the way san’s low voice tries to talk wooyoung out of it before he mirrors you and chugs his drink. 

wooyoung shrugs his boyfriend off, turning to the tall bottles of liquor he left strewn about the counter, pouring the same strong concoction into your empty cups. “we’re gonna have some fun, my girl. let’s ditch these losers, whaddya think?”

you giggle as he places the drink in your hand, then curls his fingers around the other, leaving san and yeosang behind as he leads you out of the kitchen. 

you try to keep up with the social butterfly as he interacts with randoms from all angles, his hand snug around yours as you venture through the house, getting a taste of the fun happening in each room. tongue numb and eyes blurry from the bitter drink, you’re careless as you let loose, acting on each whim that occurs to you — soon becoming a singular, overwhelming urge with heat coursing through your veins. 

you bat your lashes, bite your lip, caress arms and faces as wooyoung just eggs you on and does the same. you’re a lethal pair together, zero restraint between you as you flirt your way through the crowds, meeting each and every intrigued glance that people throw your way. 

your body locks in the spot as your eyes freeze on a certain pair of deep brown, coated in disgust as they narrow at the nonexistent space between wooyoung’s body and yours. the redhead cuts off a sweet-talking sophomore to turn and check on you, as he felt you suddenly tense up next to him. 

you can’t feel your face, but you hope it’s twisted into the nastiest glare you can manage as you return the look karina’s sending over her shoulder. you don’t have the heart to glance at the boy at her side; back facing you as he towers over her, completely oblivious to your presence with a long arm slung dangerously low around her hips. 

sick to your fucking stomach, you go to empty your cup before realising you’ve already drunk all of it. wooyoung hands you his with a knowing nod, flipping karina off as you chug to your soul’s content. “i hate that bitch too.” 

you gasp for air once the alcohol’s down your throat, crushing the empty plastic cup in your hand and throwing it somewhere amongst the crowded room. “more.” you demand him hoarsely. 

he flashes that foxy grin. “you’re the boss.”

your sights set on finding someone to hook up with asap, you and wooyoung circle back to the kitchen, stumbling upon jongho and yeosang; their faces grave as they take the state of you both in.

“sup homos.” wooyoung greets them, letting you slip from his side as you go straight for the fridge. “damn, why are we all standing around like someone got shot?”

“what do you think you’re doing, wooyoung?” jongho says outright, stern. you don’t pay the boys any mind, perusing the fridge for your new pick of poison, and settling on a bottle of white wine. 

the redhead rolls his eyes, gesturing at you with a sassy flick of his hand. “i’m watching her.” 

“did you have to get her black-out drunk?” yeosang speaks up, his usual mellow tone nowhere to be found. 

“you know we don’t have to ruin her night, right?” wooyoung huffs, an instigative smile tugging at his lips. “if she wants to drink, have some fun, fucking let her. it’s not like anything’s gonna happen.”

yeosang makes a startled noise as you sip straight from the wine bottle; not a care in the world as your eyes drink jongho in, tongue running over your teeth. “if you have a problem, jongho, we could go somewhere else? just you and me?” 

you slouch back against the counter, showing off your body in a way you hope is enticing, and yet his eyes stay put on yours. jongho shakes his head, not a flicker of contemplation passing across his face: rejected. he didn’t even have to think about it. 

you click your teeth in annoyance, lolling your head across your shoulder as you hone in on the ponytailed brunette at his side. “what about you, yeosangie?” you coo, delighting in the blush that peppers his cheeks. “pretty boy.. i should’ve asked soobin for a threesome back in the day.” 

yeosang stammers, visibly flustered, yet he makes no move to reciprocate your efforts as wooyoung snatches your wrist and drags you back out from where you came. 

you whine at him once he releases the tight grip, shoving a finger in your face as he says, “okay, we’re friends, but that one is all mine. you’re not allowed to have sangie until i—”

“i’m not allowed to have anyone!” you sulk, punctuating it with a stomp of your foot like a child. wooyoung’s mouth drops open a little, amused. “they all look but none of them wanna touch. why won’t someone just match my energy??” 

wooyoung’s eyes flit behind your head, his smirk digging further into his cheeks, before both of his hands come to rest on your shoulders. his head tilts closer, almost as if he’s going for a kiss before he whispers, “that is why.” 

you follow his line of sight, looking over your shoulder to catch yunho death-staring him from across the room. within a blink it’s gone, an artificial smile on his face now that you’re looking. you almost return it out of pure instinct, but when your gaze snags on the shiny-haired, curvy-bodied girl leaning into his side, you have no remorse as you turn back to wooyoung. 

you’re eager to make some more bad choices together, and yet you find your evil twin.. distracted, tongue poking his cheek as he looks into the next room over. you notice a group all tangled up on a twister mat; san in the fray on his hands and knees, ass mapping abstract shapes in the air. 

“i’ve gotta go pounce on that.” wooyoung mutters before he pulls you into a hug, uncaring that yunho’s watching. “i wish you good fortune at finding some dick, my girl.” 

wooyoung practically skips over to join his boyfriend positioned in doggy, leaving you and your wine bottle stranded amidst the room chock-full with strangers, people you’ve never seen and won’t see again. 

you spin on jelly legs, scanning surrounding faces for any that you recognise. you’re moving before you can register it, shouldering your way through upperclassmen dancing and vaping, right until you find yourself in a room you can actually breathe in. a large flatscreen tv playing some baseball game is the centerpiece, much calmer groups of people strewn about the lounge and floor. 

your sight hones in on a guy sitting by himself on an armchair, leaning back with his legs spread as he scrolls on his phone. you do a double-take, triple-take, in disbelief that you’re seeing things right. he’s stunning — tall, toned, jet-black hair and a nice nose to sit on. so your type. 

you saunter over to him, holding out your hand, getting him to tip his chin up. you offer nothing but your name, and his mouth curls into a lethal smirk. he sits up, drops his phone to the chair and takes your hand in his, fingers long and smooth. 

“seonghwa.” he tells you, voice deep and velvety. “what year are you in, baby?” 

you press your thighs together, crazy about the way it sounds on his tongue. “first.”

his brows shoot up, and he leans back into the chair with a snicker, legs spreading wider. your eyes fall to his crotch. “i’m not trying to catch a case.” 

“you won’t.” you say without missing a beat, mouth nearly drooling over how his jeans hug his thighs, the band of his boxers peaking at the hips. “i took a gap year after high school. i’m twenty, promise.”

seonghwa hums, tongue poking his cheek. “then who gave you that?” his eyes point at the whole wine bottle still in your hand. 

“no one.” you murmur, acutely aware of how his gaze drags over your body. “i just took it.”

he snickers, his free hand coming to brush on the inside of his thigh, your own rubbing each other raw. “well, this seat’s free, if you wanna take it too.” 

you nod, letting him pull you in, both his hands on your waist as he gently positions you on his lap. you shift like you’re getting comfortable, and his eyes darken, a solid heat prodding your ass. you smile at him, every intention to see it with your own eyes later. seonghwa will be more than enough to satisfy this relentless itch under your skin. 

you’re blind to the time that passes as you sit on top of seonghwa; drawling and cooing to one another, sharing sips of the wine, your eyes on each other’s lips. your arms found themselves slung around his neck, and his fingers had crept under the hem of your dress, drawing on the skin of your inner thigh. 

gradually, your head falls to the crook of his neck, the overwhelming need nearly burning you from the inside out. you sighed into his ear, lips brushing the shell, begging him to touch you where your body’s screaming for it with a weak “please.”

seonghwa had sucked in a sharp breath, his face tilting to yours, and yet something completely rips his attention away — eyes shooting off into the distance, hands falling off your body. you sit up straight, close to chewing him out, until he speaks up first. 

“uh oh, fun police.”

you turn to follow his eyes, instantly finding a glaring, brunette shorty with his arms crossed. jongho’s in his ear, gesturing at you both, with a guilt-stricken yeosang standing at his side. he starts stomping over, the crowd parting for the tiny ball of fury, and it’s not until he’s standing in front of you do you realise that it’s hongjoong — not recognising him without the bright orange hair. 

“why, seonghwa?” hongjoong sighs. “do you have to pull this tonight?” 

“full-naming me?” seonghwa hums, eyes alight with more interest than you’ve seen in him all night. “i don’t see what’s wrong, we’re just talking.” he shrugs, looking to you. “right baby?” 

you frown, eyes flicking between them, the potent energy that you can tell has nothing to do with your presence. still, you nod for him, only in hopes that he’ll still fuck you. 

hongjoong rubs his forehead, tired. “hwa, shit will go down if he sees this—”

seonghwa laughs once, a mocking noise. “oh, did he tell you that? you’re friends again now?” 

“can you at least care about how mingi would feel??” hongjoong snaps, your heart sinking beneath the floorboards at the mention. 

“...he’s here?” you mutter, barely above a whisper. both seniors fall gravely silent. 

there’s something wrong — it’s as sure as the air you find yourself unable to breathe. why wasn’t he at home, torn up over you like you were over him? what reason did he have to still come as if he’d enjoy it without you? there had to be a reason. you already knew the reason, but you needed to see it with your own eyes. you had to feel the hurt to know it was true. 

“where is he?” you ask them, voice threadbare, and yet no answers fall upon your ringing ears. you take it upon yourself to jump from seonghwa’s lap and leave the room, pacing through sweaty bodies and clouds of smoke with tunnel vision. 

you steal half-full cups from tables and knock them back, but with how your head spins and floats away from your body, you definitely didn’t need them. you ignore a call of what might be your name, you scowl at a pretty girl who you think you hate, you stumble upon a redhead twerking on a muscled hottie. you just keep on pushing through the crowd, right until there’s girls laughter in your ears, beautiful and alluring like a siren’s song. you follow it, recognising that bleached blonde and high ponytail from a mile away, intending to ask if they’d seen mingi. 

and yet you see him yourself. 

he’s smiling, laughing, shuhua at his side as she says something that can’t possibly be that funny; yuqi and minnie across from them, happy as ever, like they aren’t plunging a knife deep into your back. 

you can’t feel anything but fire, rising up inside you and boiling your blood, your legs charging across the room; smoke pouring from your nose and ears, from your mouth as you open it, words roaring out beyond your control. 

“just couldn’t wait to get your dick wet, huh?” you spout, bile bitter in your throat as all four heads whip to you with saucer eyes. 

yuqi covers her mouth, minnie looks around for answers, shuhua scowls at you while your ex rubs at his forehead. 

“babe—” he starts before realising and cutting himself off, settling on calling you by your name. “can we…” his hands are in his hair, making a mess of it as he pleads you with big, glossy eyes. “let’s go talk somewh—”

“why?” shuhua butts in, looking only at him, like she’s too good to acknowledge you. “you don’t have to go anywhere with her if she’s gonna talk to you like shit.” 

“oh, you tell him what to do now?” you scoff, nothing but venom in the noise. “you take care of his needs?”

yuqi says your name, trying to step in. “don’t do this,”

you silence her with nothing but a look, earning a harsh glare from minnie that you ignore. 

shuhua tips her chin up at mingi, her voice not quiet enough as she murmurs, “did you tell her about us?” 

all you see is red. 

“oh. okay.” your mouth drops open in a senseless cackle, heads peering in your direction as you spit, “tell me, how does my fucking sloppy seconds taste, shuhua? does he still moan like a girl when you sit on his dick? does he cry for you to let him cum?” 

shuhua bites right back, “do you even realise who had him first?” 

“stop it!” minnie exclaims, arms outstretched to keep you both from closing the distance and ripping into one another. “both of you shut the fuck up!”

feeling broken enough, you let yourself look at mingi, whose eyes never left you. only now, they’re lined with silver, his lips pressed firm together to stop them from trembling. yuqi jabs a finger in your face, demanding you apologise, but you’re already storming off without a second thought — pushing past all the turning bodies as tears blur your vision, running as far as your feet will take you. 

you don’t even realise someone’s caught you until you lurch in the spot, firm arms pulling you in and pressing your head to their chest. 

“yunho?” 

“it’s me, baby.” you think it’s him before you bring your head up, locking eyes with seonghwa instead. “what happened?”

“he never told me they were together,” you sob hysterically, sputtering and choking on the words. “i thought i was the only one. i thought he loved me.” 

seonghwa shushes you, gently guiding you to walk with him, his hands around your middle all to keep you grounded. it’s all nothing but a blur until he’s sitting you down on the tiled floor, and you realise you’ve made it into a bathroom as he shuts the door behind him. 

your head and stomach spiral in unison, bleary eyes seeing double as you watch seonghwa typing on his phone. he pockets it and crouches in front of you, holding you against the wall by your shoulders since you were on the verge of folding in on yourself. 

“we’ll get you some water very soon, okay?” he promises you with the softest, sweetest voice you’ve ever heard. “on my count, will you breathe with me?”

breathing, counting.. “five things?” 

“what?” his hand slides over your cheek, propping your lolling head upright. “hey.”

“hi~” you giggle, a smile breaking out on his face despite himself. with feeble hands you reach for him, loosely tugging at his shirt. “kiss me.” 

seonghwa shuts his eyes, exhaling. “i would if i could, baby.” 

“why won’t you?” you pout, on the verge of fresh tears. “‘cause of hongjoong?” 

seonghwa stutters, caught off-guard, yet he doesn’t get another word out as the door’s swinging open. his hands fly off of you as a tall, handsome boy steps in. 

“thanks, hwa.” comes a deep voice, one that your heart recognises and has crying out in relief. “you’re the only loyal asshole around here.”

the senior stands, giving you one last, guilty glance before seeing himself out. you hear the door shut, and an uncapped bottle of water comes into your vision, getting you to drag your head up and acknowledge him. 

yunho, on his knees in front of you, smiling softly. you glance at the water, then back at him, seonghwa’s words rushing to the forefront of your brain: the promise that ‘we’ll’ get water, like he knew it was already coming. that’s why seonghwa had his phone out, he must’ve texted yunho. 

that’s why seonghwa had found you at all. 

the entire night crashes into you in waves, scattered memories of differents boys that you were too drunk to think of as anything other than potential fucks. jongho and yeosang keeping you in the kitchen, wooyoung taking you all over the place, seonghwa sitting you in his lap and hongjoong warning him against it. his friends have been hovering you like fucking flies, and it must’ve only been because yunho had told them to. none of them actually wanted to hang out with you, actually cared about you, it was all orchestrated so you didn’t fuck any man who wasn’t him — and maybe so you didn’t find out mingi was here too. 

you shove at his chest, his eyes wide as water spills between you. “you got your fucking friends to babysit me??”

yunho smirks, guilty. “not everyone.” he admits, knowing there’s not a chance you’ll remember this. “they all know not to piss me off, though.” 

“so what, you get to stick your dick in karina, while i can only talk to men that you allow?” 

“why can’t you talk to mingi?” he retorts with a smile too soft for the blow it deals to your heart. your gaze falters to the tiles, lips trembling, and yunho sets the water bottle aside with a tut, pinching your chin between his fingers. “aw, baby. i know. i know.” you almost cry over the way he says it, so pitiful, so demeaning. “don’t say i never told you so.” 

you try to pry his grip off with shaky fingers, though he just adds another hand, both palms sliding over your cheeks as he forces you to look him in the eye. he’s grinning, revelling in how vulnerable you are, how he can punish you for every little way you’ve torn his heart out these past few months. 

“this,” yunho’s head tips up and down, giving you a once over. “this is your dad.” 

violated, you claw at his hands and wrists, while he just sinks his fingers into your cheeks further. “what the fuck does that mean??”

“you know exactly what i mean.” he laughs, completely aware of the way his words sink beneath your skin like barbed wire. “do you understand how much it hurts me, seeing my baby sister beg each and every one of my friends to fuck her?” 

“they fucking would too.” you spit back at him. “if only you didn’t have a finger up all of their asses.” 

he just keeps smiling, in pure delight that you’re retaliating precisely how he hoped you would. “you’re mad i’m looking out for you?” 

“i’m mad you keep controlling my fucking life!” 

“well, if your dad won’t do his job right, someone has to.” your face falters, and it only spurs him on, wanting to provoke you as much as he can. “that’s where this all started. he was never there, too busy fucking a woman who wasn’t his wife, so you keep trying to fill that void with men that don’t give a shit about you. am i wrong so far?” 

you bite your tongue. even though you’re nothing but a drunk shell of yourself, you know that intelligent brain of his is picking apart yours with ease. the truth hurts, each word pierces, and yet you crave it. you want him to read you down to the marrow; you want to be seen. 

yunho licks his lips before moving in on you, face hovering over yours, sandalwood assaulting your senses. “i can be that for you, and yet you’re too scared to let me.” 

you hold your breath, knowing the tears clumping your lashes will fall if you don’t. timidly, you whisper, “why can’t you just be normal?” 

his brows scrunch, genuinely confused. “and love you less?” 

“this isn’t love, yunho. i don’t know if something happened to you that made you this way but, it’s not okay. you’re fucked up.” 

“go on, what else am i?” he eggs you on with a grin, getting right in your face, following each time you try to look away. “tell me, i’m desperate to hear.” 

your hand flies up, channelling all your might into slapping him — then giving him no time to react before you knee him in the stomach, knocking him back on his ass. 

for a second he’s left looking off to the side in shock, red blooming on his cheek until he smiles harder, huffing a satisfied noise as his eyes slowly find yours. you already know it before you glance down, seeing that he’s hard in his jeans. 

he catches you off guard by suddenly crawling forward on his hands. you brace against the wall as his body cages you in, his face diving for yours, and your eyes flutter shut in anticipation of a kiss — that never comes. 

your eyes fly open, yunho chuckling with lips ghosting over yours. “still so easy.” 

you lunge at him with your entire body, the surprise attack giving you an opening to stand on wobbly knees, powering through the urge to collapse as you go straight for the door and slip out of the room. you just keep running, not daring another look back, pushing through people and furniture until heaven’s clouds part in the form of an open door. 

you manage to make it outside, your body giving out once you’re breathing fresh air, collapsing into the grass on your hands and knees. you don’t even realise what’s going to happen until saliva pours from your mouth, the only warning sign before acid burns your throat and you’re heaving the remnants of every drink you shouldn’t of had. 

you’re officially out of it, since you hadn’t even felt someone pulling your hair back, their other hand gently stroking your back and murmuring at you from behind. you’re left gasping once it’s all out of your system, only knowing there’s another person here by the voice that comes. 

“you’re done for the night.” soyeon tells you sternly, and you don’t even have the strength left to fight it. “come on, let’s get away from this. up we go.” she hooks her arms under yours, basically dragging you through the grass until your back hits the wall of the house, leaving you propped up against it. 

she steps away to quickly finish the half-burnt cigarette between her fingers — the whole reason she was out here before you came crashing down — binning the butt before she crouches in front of you. 

“have you eaten today?” soyeon asks, only getting a mumble in response. “any water?” this time you don’t even reply, and she snaps her fingers in your face, getting you to open your eyes. “hey. i need you to cooperate with me here.”

“mm.. neither.”

you’re sure you’d be embarrassed by the look on her face if your vision wasn’t completely blurred. soyeon mutters a cuss and pulls her phone out, fingers flying across the keyboard. unfulfilled urges well up inside you, sharp and hot, and it latches onto the beautiful woman taking care of you. you promised yourself you wouldn’t leave here alone. you’ve never really gone there before, but, you can’t say you haven’t dipped your toes in the idea…

“soyeon..” you say softly, and she gives you her attention with a hum. you shamelessly stare at her lips. “have you ever wanted to—”

“—don’t even start.” she cuts in, holding a hand up. “i do not want to be anywhere near that weird roster shit you’ve got going on.” 

you frown. “i don’t have a roster..”

“girl.” she huffs a laugh. “i heard that you just tried every boy in that friend group, even the gays.” her brows raise. “now you wanna try being gay.”

“it’d be easier if i was.” you lament, resting your head on your shoulder. “i wouldn’t be so fucked in the head.”

“i agree men are the problem, but don’t say shit like that about yourself around me again.” her scolding you is the last thing you hear as your eyes shut, sleep all too enticing as it pulls you under. “i’ll slap you next time, got it?” 

you’re fading in and out of consciousness by the time the other girls rock up, half-listening to their voices. 

soyeon starts with, “where’s mingi?” 

“i don’t know!” yuqi exclaims, “i asked him what the fuck was going on earlier, why they didn’t come together, and he said to talk to her. i’m assuming they broke up, but she didn’t say anything to us.”

“it’s not really our business.” soyeon replies. “did you see where she came from?” 

“i saw her hugging that slut seonghwa, and then they were just gone.” minnie spits. “he definitely fucked her.” 

“what, with yunho around?” yuqi asks, doubtful. “i don’t think so.” 

soyeon looks to you, taking your state in. she sighs. “anyone wanna babysit with me?” 

“you’re taking her to yours?” 

“well obviously there’s a reason she ran out here when her brother and boyfriend— or, whatever, is still inside.” soyeon says firmly. distantly, you wish you could give her a big, wet kiss for being so smart and thoughtful. “i’m getting her out of here, and i’m going to bed. are you coming with or not?” 

──

you wake up with a jolt, feeling like you’ve been hit by a truck. you kick off the fluffy blankets from your body, soaked in a thick layer of sweat despite the cool air conditioning that hits you. you take in your surroundings: throw pillows around you on the couch, empty plastic bottles littering the coffee table, a bucket on the floor, alongside your dress from the night before… the smell of breakfast in your nose. 

miyeon enters, making a pleasantly surprised noise as she sees you’re awake. there’s a plate of steaming food in her hands, and you almost salivate as you realise she’s bringing it to you. “how’d you sleep?”

you just grumble, your head feeling like it weighs a tonne as you sit up. at least you don’t feel nauseous — you suppose you have all those water bottles to thank, which they must’ve forced you to drink before bed. 

miyeon sets the plate in your lap, sitting by your feet on the couch. “do you remember anything from last night?” 

already digging in, you shake your head. it’s like a chunk’s been carved out of your memory. some small leftover bits remained, though all of it was before you and wooyoung started prowling on the party. you’d totally blacked out. mission success, but at what cost?

soyeon walks out, yawning and scratching her head, wearing nothing but a tank top and boxers low on her hips. you’re confused at the faint flap of butterflies it causes in your stomach. 

“well, you’re gonna need to know.” soyeon adds sternly, sitting herself in an armchair across from you both. “i went through hell taking care of you last night. you can’t pull that shit again.”

“like what?” you ask, shame creeping up the back of your neck. “did we..” 

soyeon pinches the bridge of her nose. “nothing happened with us. i took you home, you vomited in my shower, i had to dress you and force you to drink all those.” you sputter, embarrassed, but she just waves it off. “it’s fine, girl. mimi’s put me through worse.” 

miyeon shrugs. then, they proceed to recount the details of the night; their sources being yuqi and minnie’s eyewitness account of the explosive confrontation with shuhua, as well as hongjoong’s worried texts to soyeon. this is how you find out they were even friends — by him snitching to her that you were homie-hopping in an effort to stop you. 

you can’t believe your ears as they repeat the words that your mouth very much said. you didn’t think you had it in you, but that’s precisely where it came from; your drunk self just had the balls to say what your sober self wouldn’t. 

above all, your heart is in stitches for mingi. he invested so much into you, all for you to prove that it was a waste. that every doubt or insult you’d directed at yourself was true, and nothing he’s done could help it. he couldn’t change you. 

“so what, mingi’s with her now?” you grit out, trying to stifle the sob that almost left you. 

the girls share a glance, then look back to you. soyeon answers, “we.. don’t think so. mingi wouldn’t do that to you.”

“what about shuhua? seems like she’d leap at the chance.”

“don’t say it so certainly. you don’t know.” miyeon shakes her head. “not cool.”

“i do fucking know, because she stole my boyfriend!” you exclaim, incredulous, waving your hands around. “and then the nerve to rub it in? to make it sound like he was cheating on me?” 

soyeon sighs, rubbing her forehead. “yes, shuhua’s being petty about it, but she has a good reason to be upset. she’s our friend too, you can’t just talk shit about her and expect us to let you.” 

“as if she hasn’t already talked about me.” you throw out in the air with a scoff, not even fully serious, but it dawns on you with their grave silence. “oh my fucking god, she has.” 

miyeon rushed to her defence, “she was so heartbroken, okay? we were trying to be there for her—”

“she’s allowed to rant,” soyeon cut in, firmer than miyeon. “but i told her that i didn’t want to hear any more about it after, because it’s wrong to you too.”

“so she’s hated my guts and no one said anything?”

“she loves him too.” soyeon punctuates it with your name, and it manages to rattle you to your core, as if she’s your mother scolding you. “can you, for one second, just see it from her perspective?” 

you let up, nodding, and soyeon sighs before continuing, softening her voice as she speaks again. “mingi was as close to her as we are, maybe more. then this girl she didn’t know existed moves back, and mingi drops her like nothing. because their friendship didn’t matter compared to what he once had with you.” 

you bite your lip, trying to ignore the horrible surge of pride in your chest over mingi’s blatant devotion to you. it should be unhealthy, it probably is unhealthy, but you don’t care. he’s yours and everyone knows it.

“you started dating what, two weeks in? then living at his house? shuhua hasn’t been hearing from him. and it’s not like she could join us when you were around.” soyeon explains. you try to stifle your smirk. “they’ve only been hanging out because you literally told him to. can you understand why she feels the way she does?” 

you gulp down any sarcastic jokes or bitter remarks. soyeon wouldn’t tolerate it for a second, and you know better than to get on her bad side. “i guess.”

“great.” she lets out a big sigh of relief. “i’m sick of this fighting over boys shit. we don’t need another minnie and yuqi situation.” that makes you almost vomit on the spot, remembering how they didn’t defend you last night. how they’ve both fucked your brother. “also, they’re sorry too. you just need to sort your shit out with them yourself.”

“let’s all be friends again!” miyeon adds cheerfully. 

you arch a brow. “um, after you just told me that she’s in love with my man?” 

miyeon looks to soyeon in a panic, who just shrugs. “she loves him as a friend. but, can you blame her?” your face falls, instant anger flashing hot in your chest — undoubtedly your dad’s — before soyeon waves a hand, as if swatting your imminent retort away. “mingi’s a great guy, and you know that means something coming from me. it’s not like she can let go of a feeling she’s held for years.” 

“shuhua knows she needs to get over it.” miyeon meets your eyes, as if making a promise. “and she will. you both just need to give yourselves, and each other, a little more grace. we actually thought you’d get along really well, until all of this...” 

──

“well, if it isn’t the campus communal dick.” minnie sneers over the rim of her plastic cup, while your fingers nearly crush yours. she gives him a once over before looking to you, studying your unexpectedly cold reaction to his presence. certainly the opposite of what everyone would be expecting now. 

seonghwa presses his lips into a firm line, nodding at her in a manner that’s almost out of character for how timid it is. “how are you, minnie?”

“hiv negative. and you?” you whisper her name sharply, and minnie rolls her eyes. “yes, i can give you some privacy with your boytoy. geez.” she throws one last dirty look his way before sauntering out of the hallway, joining the rest of the girls back in the kitchen where you’d all refilled your drinks. minnie had tagged along in finding a bathroom, and you were starting to regret not holding your bladder as seonghwa corners you now. 

“hey, uh..” he looks around, the walls offering a retreat from the spite burning in your eyes. “i haven’t seen you in a while. i wanted to check on you, ask if you’re okay?” 

the last fortnight had been hell on earth. soyeon’s couch had become your safe place since going home was out of the option, and because your overflowing baggage of shit had become too pungent to ignore, soyeon was going to take care of you even if you fought her on it. 

she helped you with assignments to actually turn them in, consoled you through every single breakdown that was a daily occurrence, and mediated your eventual confrontation with minnie and yuqi which almost ended physically. you’ve made up, for the most part — you don’t know if you’ll ever be over it, but you’ve gotta take it on the chin like an adult. on the bright side, your behaviour’s been so good that they’ve accompanied you to yet another party, on the condition that you can only drink under their supervision. you took that deal with no questions asked. 

wooyoung was throwing it at his family’s house — his parents and brothers away on a trip, while he was here trashing the place. they’re loaded, calling a modern villa on the beachfront their home. 

the guest list was a small, exclusive selection of faces you all know, and many that you can’t stand. it was their groups of boys, your group of girls, and karina. the worst possible blunt rotation on earth. you figure that’s exactly what wooyoung was going for though; with another party a mere two weeks after the eventful last, it’s obvious he wants drama, and he’s gonna get it one way or another. 

you’re hoping to sit this one out, being anywhere but at the centre of conflict this time around. you’ve been very mature in ignoring shuhua and mingi thus far, letting them exist in their own world while you try not to think of homicide in yours. none of the girls think they’re anything more than friends, but you’ve been broken up, so it wasn’t your business either way. as long as your belly’s warm with some alcohol, you can deal. 

“i will be soon.” you shake the drink in your hand, the plastic caved in from you strangling it. “so, how long have you been sucking my brother’s dick?” 

seonghwa shuts his eyes with a heavy sigh. “yunho’s one of my best friends. he asked me for a favour, i had to do it. you know how he gets when he’s mad.”

“what exactly was the favour?” you interrogate him, taking a hefty sip of the liquor you’ll be needing in your system. 

“he told us all to keep an eye on you, because you get.. messy.” suspicions confirmed, yet it still hurts like a bitch. “wooyoung and i had to make sure you didn’t leave with mingi.” et tu, woo? 

“wow. what the fuck is going on in your group?” 

“it’s all yunho.” seonghwa says, running a hand down his face. “mingi’s only been speaking to hongjoong, ever since san’s birthday. we don’t hate him, but.. no one knows what’s going on, or what happened with you.” 

that’s for the better, you think, even though they were left to assume you were dating yunho and then cheated with mingi….you don’t need any more noses in your business. you’ve removed yourself from the equation anyways, nothing was stopping the two boys from making up and being best buddies again. 

“so, did he say you had to put me on your lap too, or..” you say like you remember. you wouldn’t have known if hongjoong hadn’t spilled to soyeon. that damn big-lipped twink… 

seonghwa huffs, forehead creasing as his brows pinch together. “no, he didn’t. and i’d be in a coffin if he found out.” your stomach swirls at how sure his tone is, suddenly aware of how close he’s standing, how delicious his cologne smells.. “it was careless, but i was already pissed off that night, and— i do really like you. our short time together was the best part of my night.”

you try not to immediately drop your skirt. you’re too easy for someone that so perfectly fits your type. testing the waters, you mutter, “so what’s stopping you?” 

seonghwa smiles ruefully. he doesn’t have to say it, because you already know. you nod, grieving the loss of what could’ve been the best fuck of both your lives, before accepting it. taking the friend zone in stride. 

“what’s up with you and hongjoong, then?” you ask tentatively, and seonghwa chuckles, crossing his toned arms as he leans against the wall. you mirror him, figuring this might take a while.

“we’ve been in this annoying.. limbo, since freshman year. i fell fast, he fell harder. i was waiting for him to ask me out, to make the first move… i’m still waiting.”

“girl why?” you both laugh over it, and it should be confusing how easily you slip into having a kiki when you were ready to jump his bones not even a minute ago. it’s not though; it feels natural. right. “you couldn’t pay me to wait four years without dick.” 

“i didn’t, that’s the thing!” he admits, and you gasp. “i got sick of holding out for him so i started sleeping around, and joongie haaaates it, but he still won’t say anything.” you dap seonghwa up in solidarity, and he stops you just short of pulling away, asking a gentle “can i?” that you’re already accepting before he finishes. his arms wrap around you in a hug as he whispers, “i’m glad we’ve met.”

as you’re raising your mind back out of the gutter, a shrill voice rings through the walls and has you both flinching apart: wooyoung, calling upon all his guests to come to him. you and seonghwa share a look that smells trouble, before nodding and walking off together. 

everyone emerges from different corners to gather in the massive open space that was the living room: high ceiling, warm lighting, fluffy carpets and plush lounges, a flatscreen tv decked-out with speakers and consoles that all cost more money than you’d ever see in your life. the humble host stood in the centre, freshly-dyed blood-red hair matching his sweater, printed with the words ‘she’s got me by the balls’. 

you and seonghwa earn a few curious glances as you walk out together, jongho outright asking the senior where he was. neither of you can get a word out in defence before wooyoung’s clapping his hands, commanding the room’s attention. 

“isn’t this so much better than splitting off into little groups.” he states, clearly annoyed the party isn’t going how he hoped. “let’s play a game, shall we? truth or dare.” the collective less-than-enthusiatic reaction only spurs wooyoung on, his smile reading mischief. “no limits, no backing out. you have to do or answer whatever it is, or else you drink this.” he walks over to the coffee table, holding up an unlabelled bottle of dark-coloured liquor. “grandpa jung’s homemade moonshine.” 

“i’m not drinking that shit.” karina comments from where she’s hanging onto yunho’s side. you side-eye seonghwa, and he does it right back. 

“well then you can get out of my house, how about that?” wooyoung retorts, pointing to the door, and any complaints were sucked out of the house. the first thing you can all manage to agree on, is that leaving and risk being shit-talked was a fate worse than drinking the illustrious moonshine. “don’t pussy out, and you won’t have to drink it, simple. sounds good? great. now let’s start.”

at his demand, you all situate yourselves in a circle around the coffee table, the moonshine sitting there ominously as wooyoung elects mingi to start. he’d taken the floor, shuhua choosing to join him, while the rest of you were on couches or in chairs. his head lifts, brows flipped over in surprise, as his eyes sweep the faces in the circle. mingi completely ignores his left, where his ex best friend had found himself, and you can see something inside him crack as he accidentally locks eyes with you — seonghwa’s arm slung over your shoulders. 

mingi moves on, eventually asking, “hongjoong, truth or dare?” 

“uh.. truth.” 

seonghwa shifts at your side, and you check on him with a tilt of your head, getting a nod in response. you face forward, catching mingi’s eyes on you once again before they’re darting away. 

“u-um.. where do you see yourself after graduation?” 

hongjoong’s face brightens. “making music, hopefully.” 

he proceeds to go on a tangent about an opportunity he’s scored for himself, before wooyoung’s cutting him off with a, “booooring!” the senior glares at him, but it does nothing to deter him. “your turn, shuhua. chop chop.” 

shuhua replies right back, “truth or dare?” 

“truth.” wooyoung answers, much to everyone’s surprise. “make it dirty.”

shuhua thinks for a moment, meeting yuqi’s eyes before getting the idea. “out of everyone here, who would you invite for a threesome?” 

wooyoung says your name without missing a beat, and the room erupts into oohs and ahhs. you keep your eyes away from the two giants; one glaring behind the girlfriend sitting in his lap, while the other pulls his knees to his chest from his spot on the floor and shrinks into himself, shuhua murmuring what must be an apology. 

“i wanna know what had soobin so hooked,” wooyoung elaborates without even being prompted. he cuts your ex a glance, then your brother. “sorry, yuyu.” 

it’s not lost on you, the fact that he chose not to acknowledge mingi. san grips his boyfriend’s waist tighter, as if warning him to play nice. it’s pretty clear who wooyoung’s sided with in the whole yunho versus mingi drama. 

riding on the bold tone that shuhua set and his own thirst for drama, wooyoung looks at you. “truth or dare, sweetie?” you make the mistake of answering dare, since he smiles like a madman before following up with, “swap places with karina.”

karina protests instantly and loudly from her spot on yunho’s lap, while your girls are just as quick to have your back and snap at her; that she’s making it weird, that you’re family and it’s not that deep. it’s kinda funny how ironic it is. it’s kinda fucking sad. 

“karina, it’s just a game. don’t take it so seriously. if you wanna leave, by all means.” wooyoung gestures to the door, waiting for her to get up and make a choice. yunho even raises himself from the chair to slide her off, and she scoffs, shooting him a ‘i’m bringing this up later’ glare before flipping her hair over her shoulder and stomping around the coffee table, scowling in front of you and seonghwa. 

you stand reluctantly, karina knocking shoulders with you as she drops into your seat. all eyes are on you as you walk over to yunho, and he smiles softly up at you, holding out a hand for you to take. you don’t — making sure your dress covers your ass before tepidly sitting on the edge of his knees. you’re not close to drunk enough for this. 

not when his fingers find either side of your waist, inching closer to the middle as the game moves onto san’s turn. you’re not listening to what he asks yeosang as yunho’s hands slide over your stomach, and you’re still not when it moves to seonghwa’s turn, yunho pulling you in until your back meets his chest. all you can focus on is the heat of him, the soft sigh he lets out near your ear, the fingers dropping into your lap and toying with the edge of your dress — and the game reaches karina before you know it. 

her voice asking mingi is what has you tuning back in, revenge aflame in her eyes as he answers truth. “when’s the last time you fucked shuhua?”

you seethe, body nearly trembling from adrenaline, wanting so badly to get up and slap the smirk off her face. yunho must sense it, since he holds you a little tighter, as if stopping you from following through on it. 

mingi’s adam’s apple bobs in a harsh gulp. he looks to the floor, answering in nothing but a murmur, “january.” 

mere months before you moved back. he told you he had no luck, that he was single, and yet she had him first. you already suspected it, you already knew it was coming and it still shatters your fucking heart, twice over with how all your friends and his are here to bear witness. mingi can’t bring himself to confront the look you’re sending him; not with yunho’s satisfied smirk over your shoulder. 

awkwardly, it moves on to yeosang next to her, who stammers through daring yuqi to read out the last text she sent. her face goes white as a sheet as she checks her phone, contrasting the red blooming on her cheeks as she reads out loud: “pray for me to get eiffel towered tonight.” wooyoung’s ears perk up, and the game moves on. 

jongho asks soyeon what her body count is, and when she answers “five”, you catch yeosang counting the heads of the girls in your group. you’d laugh if you weren’t still on the verge of tears. then it’s hongjoong’s turn, who dares san to skull a whole cup of vodka. he takes it in stride, completes it with flair, and rips his shirt off over his head with a roar.  

soyeon, noting that karina hasn’t stopped trying  to explode you with her mind since you sat down, dares her to swap places with you again so she stops sulking. yunho rebuts, saying that’s unfair because it means your turn gets skipped, but you can’t have accepted it and stood from his lap quicker. he doesn’t even spare a glance to his girlfriend as she plops herself back down, his eyes tracking you as you lean back into seonghwa’s outstretched arm. 

minnie, arching a brow at the pda happening, uses her turn to ask seonghwa, “how often do you two fuck?”

the senior eyes the moonshine, his first instinct being to protect your honour, but you give him the okay with a hand on his shoulder and a nod. 

“we don’t.” he answers with a smile, setting the room off. you lean into his side instinctively, seeking shelter from their shocked reactions. you may as well have ‘SLUT’ written across your forehead in sharpie with how they loudly announce their assumptions that you were sleeping together. the boys mingi calls his friends, the girls you call yours — none of them expected any better from you. 

moving on to yuqi, she has a sparkle of mischief in her eye as she asks hongjoong. he timidly answers dare, and yuqi takes a big inhale as if trying not to squeal as she says, “give seonghwa the big, sloppy kiss he’s been waiting for.” 

amidst all the chaos that befalls the room, seonghwa only looks to you, gauging your reaction. you know how it must look on the outside — if you’re not fucking, then what is he doing with you? — but you appreciate seonghwa. if you didn’t have him by your side, you probably would’ve started a fight with one of your two boys, or something even worse. it’s why you smile, and give him the okay. 

seonghwa stands, walking to the opposite end of the couch where hongjoong sat, beet red and looking at you both with wide, lost eyes. jongho scooches away to make room as seonghwa places his knee beside hongjoong’s thigh. he leans down, his other knee mirroring the first as he props himself over hongjoong’s lap, the brunette sinking further into the couch and ripping his fingers into the cushions. 

you watch seonghwa murmur something to hongjoong, meant for his ears only, before he gains the confidence to surge forward and capture seonghwa’s lips in a kiss. the room erupts into cheers and claps for them; hongjoong grasping at his waist, seonghwa sitting in his lap, their tongues tangling as they kiss sloppily, loudly. you think you finally understand yuqi’s obsession with having a threesome. 

after turning everyone else into their cucks, seonghwa’s the one to pull away, wiping the saliva from his chin as he stands on wobbly knees. you watch him stiffly walk back to your side, crossing his legs as he sits down; while hongjoong brings his knees up, cussing at jongho who laughs at his obvious boner. 

“wooh,” wooyoung exhales, grabbing a throw pillow to shamelessly cover his lap. “i feel like i gotta take a pregnancy test after that.” 

soyeon softly nudges miyeon’s side, announcing that it’s her turn, snapping the room out of its suddenly sexually tense energy. 

since she was already looking in that direction, miyeon says your name and asks you. you answer truth, and she giggles, “ah.. i don’t have anything…” she looks to wooyoung, and you see the moment the question pops into her head. you wish you could’ve warned her against it as she asks, “oh! have you ever had a pregnancy scare?”

minnie and yuqi whip their heads to her, profusely whispering and shaking their heads, trying to communicate that this was not a good topic for you. miyeon’s too stunned to backpedal, stuttering while the rest of the room focuses twice as much as before over the fact you didn’t immediately deny it. 

if looks could kill, yunho and mingi’s combined would have you in millions of tiny pieces all over the floor. neither of them knew about it. 

“yeah.” you say, succinct. it didn’t have to be anything more than that. 

but with your luck, the turn passes to karina — and when her gaze doesn’t stray from you, lip curling with something sinister, you can feel your stomach sinking before she even utters your name. 

“truth or dare?” 

you know exactly what’s coming if you say truth. she’s going to follow up on that question, force you to elaborate and humiliate yourself in front of everyone. with how she’s been watching her boyfriend and your ex like a hawk, she’d have to be blind to miss how their demeanours changed drastically. something happened there, between you three, and she’s eager to sink her nails in to pick it out. you won’t give her that satisfaction. 

glaring, you mutter, “dare.” 

karina’s face doesn’t falter one bit as she says, “i dare you to tell us who the father was.” 

your girls are shooting out of their seats and yelling at her before you can even react. fingers and curses fly everywhere as minnie and yuqi pop off on her, while some of the boys try to intervene or even just understand the situation. 

“karina, that’s not a proper dare.” wooyoung interjects over the noise. 

“don’t take it so seriously, it’s just a game.” she mocks him with his own words, delivered like a slap across the face. “if she doesn’t do it, she has to leave, no?” 

all eyes were back on you now. all ears were waiting for you to say mingi. the obvious answer, the only answer, should’ve been mingi. 

but when you press your lips into a firm line, eyeing the moonshine on the coffee table, a deafening silence cloaks the room as you reach out and grab it. 

you uncap the bottle, taking an eager swig of the liquor, gulping pure acid as it burns your entire mouth, searing down your throat and spreading through your chest. it’s the worst thing you’ve ever fucking tasted.

the atmosphere shifts irrevocably after that. minnie and yuqi — who had talked you out of insanity throughout the scare, who assumed it was obviously him that did it — staring at you and each other with unbelieving eyes. 

mingi says nothing as he gets up and leaves, the door slamming as it hits the wall on his way out. you couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face. you’ve got no idea what he must be thinking, and you want to keep it that way. shuhua stands and follows after him without a word, which makes you laugh out loud, unapologetic. you think you catch your friends’ hard glares in your peripheral, but you think you don’t give a fuck either. 

bile rises in your throat suddenly, vomit threatening to topple over, and you don’t even realise you’re tilting with it until firm hands are grabbing you. from the front, and from the back.

“i’ve got her.” comes yunho’s deep, almost angry voice. the hands on your back fall away, which must belong to seonghwa. “why’d you drink that, silly?” 

you look down at him kneeling before you, into the eyes of the man responsible. the name you refused to utter in front of everyone in favour of drinking literal poison. 

it was yunho. 

or, at least, would have been, if you were actually pregnant. you weren’t, thank every fucking god there is. 

it had come about during a casual conversation with your girls about birth control. yuqi asked you and minnie for advice, and one thing after another, you realised you hadn’t gotten your period for close to a month. panicking ensued. 

a quick google search told you that even if you’ve taken plan b, you can have unprotected sex that same day and still get pregnant. although yunho did wear a condom, your panicked brain scrambled to the worst conclusions. perhaps he’d torn a hole in the rubber, or pushed some of his cum back inside with his finger. you didn’t know what he was willing to do anymore. babytrapping you so you’d have no choice but to stay with him? yeah, sounds just like your sweet brother. 

after weeks of horrifying confusion, having to hide what was going on from patient, caring mingi who could tell something was deeply wrong… you had finally gotten your period, promptly began taking birth control, and life moved on. 

until this moment. 

wooyoung breaks the staggering silence by looking to his now empty left side and announcing, “looks like it’s my turn again.”

the room groans in unison, wishing for this game to be a wrap already. it lost its fun long ago — if you asked your girls, when karina first opened her mouth. 

since you were practically slumped onto him, yunho had managed to slide you off the couch and into his lap on the floor. wooyoung blatantly stares at the pair of step-siblings too close for comfort. he gulps, scanning the circle for a victim, while his eyes keep flitting to the door like your angry titan ex may come storming back in at any moment. 

he looks at the moonshine, and then karina, intentions displayed so obviously across his face as if written in neon lights. he opens his mouth, giving and receiving a stare full of daggers to his new bestie, asking the question you’re all waiting for. 

“yunho, truth or dare?” 

he singlehandedly catches the room off-guard. any other person would probably avoid your little corner with yunho right now, after everything that silently went down with the last question. of course, this is mister shit stirrer you’re referring to, who is still the host of the party. that display between you three has probably only ignited his appetite for even more drama. 

yunho’s hold tightens around you under everyone’s stares. despite it all, despite him, you feel safer. it’s just how your body’s trained to react. you don’t know if it’ll ever unlearn the comfort that his touch brings. 

he presses his lips together, potentially holding back some harsh words against a friend who has very loudly taken his side against mingi. he finally answers, “dare.”

wooyoung smirks. you all know before he speaks that it can’t be anything good. 

“kiss the prettiest girl in the room.” 

you instantly look up at your brother, expecting him to let go; yet all air is sucked from the room when yunho tilts his head and plants a kiss on your cheek. 

there’s a single second of silent disbelief — before karina’s shooting up from her seat, jamming a finger like a knife at you both. “you’re both fucking shameless!” she’s met with furious shouts right back, but it’s not enough to silence her. “what, we’re all thinking it! just because you’re all too pussy to say anything doesn’t make you better than me!” 

minnie yells at her to shut the fuck up, miyeon holding her arm like the leash of a barking dog about to bite. wooyoung has stars in his eyes, his dare playing out exactly as he had hoped. san’s lips are pursed from his side, disappointed in him for deliberately causing this. yunho eases you up, trying to quietly usher you out — as if the attention isn’t solely on you both right now. 

“see! none of you can tell me that shit is normal!” karina laughs, straight from her chest, pointing at you both again. “like are we kidding? they’re weird!” 

“i bet you still beg him to fuck you.” you bite back, your knees almost giving out if it weren’t for yunho keeping you standing upright. 

she scoffs, mouth curling down for a fraction of a second before the corners are rising up again, her snake eyes honing in on you. she unlatches her jaw, and spews straight venom. “‘cause he’s too busy fucking you, right?” 

the world tilts. literally, it tilts, as you lose your footing and sway in yunho’s arms, a violent lurch in your stomach sending you sideways. acid claws up your throat, burning out any response you could’ve hoped to get out. 

“you’re disgusting.” you think you hear someone say in your defence, seonghwa maybe. karina’s voice comes out with the start of a comeback before a loud slap cuts through the room. your head whips up at the sound of screaming, which you quickly realise is karina, being pulled by her long, shiny hair in soyeon’s hands. 

the room breaks out into a riot — soyeon landing hits to karina’s head, everyone shoving and yelling at everyone — while yunho takes the chance to slip out of the room with you. he keeps you upright as he drags you along, all the way up the stairs until he’s leading you into a bedroom. 

yunho sits you on the edge of the bed, one hand holding your arm to keep you from folding as the other offers a cup of water. you have no idea where or when he got that. “drink. all of it.” 

you’re nonresponsive, and yunho settles on grabbing your hair to tilt your head back, tipping the water into your mouth himself. he’s lucky you’re not gone enough to choke; you only had one drink, it’s just the moonshine that fucked you up. you feel more sick than tipsy. 

once he empties it, he tosses the cup to the floor, dragging a hand through his hair as he regards you for a long moment. eventually, he releases a sigh. 

“baby, we gotta talk about it.”

you try to writhe away, but he’s stronger than you are. “there’s nothing.”

“it was me, right? you thought it was me?” his eyes study your face wildly, and though you try to school it, obviously you can’t hide anything from your insane fucking brother. “holy shit.” his hand tightens around your arm to the point it hurts, and he can barely restrain his temper from completely exploding as he exclaims, “you thought you were pregnant with my kid, that’s not fucking nothing!” 

you give him an attitude right back, “obviously i’m not, so it doesn’t matter.” 

“it does matter. fuck, baby, it matters more than anything.” yunho kneels on the floor before you, holding your hands in his, love pouring from his eyes. “what would you have done, if you were?” 

“what do you want me to say?” his jaw ticks at the utter disgust in your tone. “no, i wouldn’t have kept my stepbrother’s child then get disowned by everyone, actually.” 

“it wouldn’t be like that.” he strokes your hand, reassuring you, yet it all just stings like acid. “our parents love us. you and i are more than—”

“—you saw that out there!” you cut in, pointing five fingers to the door. “the looks on their faces when karina called us out? they think it’s weird too, yunho. it is fucking weird. also, our parents love you. she’s your mother before she’s mine, and my father barely even remembers i’m his.” you laugh bitterly, blowing out a breath through your nose. “if that.. happened, he’d probably say i came on to you. that i’m selfish for ‘ruining the family’.” 

“do you seriously care what that man thinks?” yunho seethes with a visceral hatred for your father. he doesn’t ever let it show, but you knew of its existence. that man betrayed his mother and stole you from him. he might hate your father more than you do. “he can’t say shit to me or eomma. she would still love us, you know she would. she’d be so happy to be a grandm—”

“eugh, stop, stop!” you exclaim. the thought genuinely has you almost throwing up again. “i don’t want any of that! i think i’d rather kill myself—”

you gasp as yunho pushes you back on the bed, the sudden movement making your head spin. his large frame cages you in as he climbs on top of you within the next second. face hovering over yours, he mutters, “would it really be so fucking bad to love me back?” 

you gulp, trying to not let the proximity affect you in all the ways it already is. without remorse, you murmur, “you know i only thought i was pregnant because i can’t trust you? i didn’t know if you’d done it on purpose, if you’d really go that far, and i couldn’t tell a fucking soul. i drove myself insane for weeks. you did that to me.” 

yunho’s lips press together, eyes dark as they bore into you, sending a chill racing up your spine that almost has your back arching. he’s pissed. you know he won’t do shit, or anything he hasn’t already done before, yet you can’t help but hold your breath as you wait for his reaction. 

a gasp slips as his fingers ghost over your jaw, drawing up to caress the side of your face, reverent in its gentleness. you know he’s doing it with a purpose, you know he’s luring you in with soft touches that promise more, and yet it’s still working. you miss being taken care of, being loved, being touched. you know he knows this too. 

“you want to get rid of me?” yunho whispers, his breath fanning your lips, thumb following as it swipes your chin. “you want me to leave, to never speak to you again? just say the word.” he offers, his voice deep and scarily sincere. “i won’t argue. i’ll be out of your life for good, i promise you. tell me to go, and i will.” 

he means it. he could and would do it without a second thought, and just that realisation dawning, has heat swelling in your chest and rising to your face. you’ve practically pleaded yunho for this, trying to bury what you did together in the past, and yet you haven’t been able to stomach doing your part. you couldn’t stand seeing him with a girl that wasn’t you, you couldn’t stay happy with mingi and move on. you thought you wanted this. why don’t you want this?

tears burn the corner of your eyes as you try to imagine a life where he’s not in it. after everything that’s happened, everyone that’s been hurt, it’d all be a waste if you and yunho’s bond never recovered. you’re sick of arguing, of hating yourself, of being tired of everything every fucking day. you just want your brother. you want him to hold you and tell you it’ll all be okay. you want him to love you so hard you forget anything else exists. you’ve both come this far in efforts to get over it on your own and failed — isn’t the only option left to turn to each other? 

yunho drags a thumb under your eye, wiping a tear clumped there, the tender touch heating up your cheeks. he holds your gaze as he brings it to his mouth, closing his lips around the tip of his thumb, and the fire spreads all the way down to your lower belly, roaring for a different kind of touch. your thighs press on instinct as the fervour oozes through your blood. it’s been a long, really fucking long time since you’ve gotten any. 

“is that what you want?” he asks in a whisper, as if speaking to a frightened animal. his hand returns to your face, stroking your cheeks and petting your hair. taming you. “hm? isn’t that what you told me?” his lips can’t help but curl into the slightest grin, the glint in his eyes mocking your timid state. you can feel how he’s memorising this in real time, as potentially the last time he’ll ever have you under him again. 

you can’t say the words. you can’t bring yourself to lose him the way you thought you needed to. he’s your best friend, your only brother, your yunho. and while you’ve been losing your mind trying to let him go, he’s still only ever been all about you. the prospect of yunho actually giving up on you, of walking out of your life for good, is worth more than any dignity you thought you held for yourself. 

yunho shifts above you, maybe intending to get up and make good on the answer your silence implies, yet you stop him with fingers balled in the front of his shirt. “please don’t.” your voice is strained, looking at his pinched brows and slight pout through your blurry vision. “i don’t want to lose you again.” you admit, his hand cupping over your fingers where they’re trembling in the shirt. “it almost killed me.”

“baby, not having you will kill me.”

you shut your eyes so you don’t have to confront his reaction as you surrender, barely above a whisper, “you can have it.” he gasps quietly above, silent and still from disbelief. “just.. never leave me. please.”

his warmth smothers your face; his palms holding either cheek, tip of his nose bumping yours, breath blowing onto your lips as he leans in. your lashes flutter open, breathing forgotten as his eyes meet yours. deep brown eclipsed in black, pupils dilated to the brim of his irises as they take your expression in; so worried, for what he’ll do, and what you’ll do back. 

within a sharp inhale, yunho mutters back, “i’d rather die.” before surging forward to capture your lips with his. the kiss is soft, sweet for all of one second, before you’re pressing back and snapping his last thread of restraint. 

it’s all desperation and haste, the way yunho parts your lips with his own, teeth knacking and spit mixing as his tongue shoves in. he licks into your mouth hard, letting out a helpless groan at the taste of you, kissing you more like he’s trying consume you. you let him take what he needs to, laying there pliantly as his tongue covers every corner of your mouth, delving so deep that you nearly gag. 

it’s obvious how much he’s missed you. the way his body presses yours into the mattress, firm and heavy, his thighs nudging your knees apart to slot himself in the space between. you can’t help but whine at the pressure of his stomach on your crotch, feeling his smile slotting against your mouth as he kisses you. 

it’s all so messy; your tongues tangling, drool in the corner of your lips, your hands tugging at his hair, his squeezing your sides. your underwear soiled through from his tensed stomach, his pants sporting a wet patch where he ruts against your thigh. you could almost think he’s pent up, unleashing energy kept bottled away, yet you’d be dumb to think so, considering the whole other girl he has at his disposal. 

still bitter over it, you nip at his tongue, yunho pulling back with a hiss. you watch as his mouth swishes around, his eyes wild as he tastes the faintest hint of blood. his hand snatches your jaw in a firm grip, fingers digging into your cheeks until your lips pop open with a wince. yunho spits, directly onto your tongue, chasing it with his own as he kisses you again, even rougher than before. you’re so overwhelmed by it all, barely keeping up as his fingers slide down to your throat, grasping with just enough pressure to make your head light. you let out a moan in shock, and again when his boner jabs your thigh with a particularly hard rut. 

you gulp, feeling the size of him, already painfully erect where he rubs it against your leg. yunho’s mouth comes off yours with a wet smack, his eyes studying your face as his free hand gently cups over your breast, then kneading the flesh when you don’t immediately swat at him. instead, you nod, unprepared for the way he tugs the top of your dress down. braless, he pulls the fabric beneath your breasts, muttering a cuss at the sight before delving down to take a nipple into his mouth. you cry for him, way too sensitive for your own good after an involuntary dry spell, his tongue swirling and flicking the bud. 

the hand still around your neck keeps you pinned to the mattress, no choice but to squirm under his weight as his mouth assaults your nipples, switching between each breast to suck until he’s sure he’s left a mark. he shifts above you, repositioning his hips to align with yours, his cock pressing into the thin, sticky fabric covering your pussy. you moan loudly, shamelessly, spurring him on to keep lapping at your nipples and grinding your crotches together. it feels too fucking good, to the point you almost want him to stop with how he’s overwhelming your body. you could cum, this soon. 

it’s a contrast to last time — how you tried to defy him, how he was teasing with a point to prove — the way you give and he takes without question. your bodies finding a rhythm, a familiarity between you. it’s dangerous, you could (and arguably did) get addicted to this. it’s exactly why you shouldn’t have it, if not for the stepbrother part alone. but the hickeys littering your breasts was solid proof that neither of you gave a fuck. the heat coiling low in your belly, your throbbing clit at the fabric rubbing it raw, was proof that you were always going to want this, whether you fought your body on it or not. 

you grab his shoulder, teetering on the edge of release, yet it’s quickly pulled from under your feet as yunho’s body tilts away. he leaves one last kiss on your nipple, glistening with spit, before he pulls back and flips the skirt of your dress up. cool air hits the damp spot on your panties, your legs nearly shutting under the intensity of yunho’s eyes honed in on the middle. you can see the moment a switch flips in his brain, both hands grabbing your waist as he sits up, then pulling you down with him as he lays back. 

“wait—” you say, acutely aware of your whereabouts: some random bedroom that probably belongs to wooyoung’s brothers. “we can’t, not here,”

“it’s my room for the night.” yunho says simply as he sits you on his chest, silencing any protests as he lifts your ass with one hand to give the other access to pull your panties to the side. his tongue runs over his lips, teeth biting down into the plush before releasing it with a sigh. you shiver as his fingers trace your folds, coating the tips in your sticky arousal, his brows furrowing ever so slightly when you clench around nothing. “you’re the prettiest girl in the world, baby.” 

“you’re just saying that.” you murmur, sucking in a breath as his thumb ghosts over your clit. 

his eyes flick up to yours, not a hint of insincerity in them, which is rare for someone who lies like it’s breathing. “i mean it. i’ve always thought so.” his lip curls when your hips wriggle, trying to get his fingers where you want them. “why else would i fall for you, so young?” 

“‘cause you were horny?” you huff, only half meaning it, yet you start to regret it with the way his face deadpans, fingers stilling on your inner thigh.

“do you understand that’s not all you are to me?” he utters, his gaze so intense you almost can’t hold it. “you’re my baby, my favourite girl. and i love you.” 

you don’t like where this is going. your whole pussy’s on display and yet you feel even more naked with his confessions. just the mere concept of his love starting out pure, with the attraction happening as a result. he loves you, really loves you, so much that he started to want you too, even when he shouldn’t. there’s also the fact that you know he’s pouring his heart out like this because he’s luring you in, enticing you to fall into this limerence with him. 

caught up in your own thoughts, yunho takes you by surprise as he pushes you forward, right until his mouth meets your pussy. you let out a yelp, your body tipping forward, yet he holds you upright with a hand closed around your bare breast, the other gripping your thigh to keep you in place as his tongue ravages you. the noise is obscene, loud slurping and squelching, more your arousal than his spit. his lips seal around your clit, sucking and flicking his tongue, and it’s all too much too fast — your vision whiting out as pleasure seizes your body. 

yunho doesn’t slow down for a second as you suddenly cum, fingers twisting in his hair as an anchor, his mouth merciless as your arousal gushes. you can’t even ride it out, but rather endure it as the bliss pushes into oversensitivity, your next release building immediately after with how yunho just holds you down by your thigh and keeps going. 

he can’t decide where he wants his mouth more; switching between licking through your folds, flicking over your clit, or burying his tongue into your hole. all while his fingers pinch and roll your nipple, sending shocks of pleasure straight to your pussy. you’re done, you’re spent already, but you know he’s going to pull another orgasm out of you, by force if he must. the smirk you’re sitting on says it all, his palm on your thigh continuing to push you down onto his face. 

at your attention, his hand leaves your breast to snake down, his mouth moving to your clit to allow two fingers to slip into your hole. your mouth drops open in a moan at the feeling of being filled, eyes screwing shut when yunho immediately curls them, finding your g-spot from memory. he targets it, fucking his fingers into the spot over and over, smiling as he makes out with your clit and watches you come undone on top of him. each motion is precise, he knows exactly where to stimulate, and it’s too much. your pussy burns from the overstim, yet you can’t help but weakly hump his face, desperate for the release racing up your spine. 

yunho pushes you to it with the moan that rumbles on your clit, your second orgasm slamming into you as you’re overcome with trembles above him, yunho’s tongue licking and fingers curling the whole way through it. on the tail end, you’re almost worried he’ll go for a third with how he doesn’t slow down, so you tighten your fists in his dark locks, pulling until you feel hair about to rip before he finally lets go of you. 

he’s smiling like a maniac as he sits up, wrapping his arms around your middle to take you with him as he lays you flat against the bed. your eyes widen as he brings your hand back to his hair, closing his palm over yours to guide you to pull again, his lips smothering yours in a helpless kiss. you taste yourself on his tongue, mixing with the whimper he lets out as he humps his clothed boner against your bare pussy, like he’s too caught up in wanting to be inside you that he can’t be bothered to get undressed. 

you’re throbbing over the noises he’s making into the kiss, so unlike him with how.. pathetic they sound — until you realise that he’s doing it on purpose. he’s fucking mimicking the types of guys you like to go after, all whiney and desperate, which is almost a mockery with how he’s making you submit to him. 

it reminds you too much of someone you can’t afford to remember right now, and you find yourself shoving at yunho before you can think it. it doesn’t deter him, even when you stop kissing him back, he just kisses you harder — egging you on to tug at his hair and hurt him, only causing more of his fake fucking whimpers to resound down your throat. you slap the side of his face, trying to knee his crotch where it still grinds into you, until yunho finally pulls away chuckling. 

“what do you think you’re doing, hm?” he smirks, his hand finding your throat again, not pressing but.. there, as a reminder. he dips his face low, tongue darting out to run over your lips, letting out a deep snicker into your mouth. “fucking brat.” you do not expect the way your body reacts to the word, your pussy clenching around thin air, nor the way his teeth nip at your lower lip, teasing a kiss that you suddenly find yourself aching for. “who do you think is in control here?” it’s you, you both know it’s you who determines this, and yet you’re nothing but putty in yunho’s hands, hanging on to his every word. “i get you off twice, but now you suddenly wanna stop? you think you’re too good to fuck me? even though you’ll throw yourself at all my friends?” 

“shut up.” you bite back, hurt flashing in your chest, quickly surrendered at the flicker of genuine rage in his eye. it has your pussy twitching, eager for him to take it out on you, even though you were just recoiling, as if you’d selfishly leave him high and dry. and despite cumming twice, you wouldn’t be any better off than him if it stopped here. you want him inside you, just as much as him. you want him to fuck you the way he did before, where all you could think was yunho. he’s good at this, and you want it bad. haven’t stopped wanting it bad, ever since the first taste. 

“you said i can have it,” yunho reminds you, fingers slightly pressing into the sides of your neck, your breath breaking off into a whimper. “so it’s mine.” he kisses you, startlingly gentle. “let me take care of you, baby.” 

you’re so close to giving in, right until a thought occurs to you, spite rising in your throat. “you’re not fucking me raw.” you snap, petty over the first time when he wore a condom just to rip it off and give you backshots anyways. “i’m not catching something from karina.”

“you won’t.” he replies without missing a beat. 

you scoff. “what do you—?” oh. your lip curls at the realisation, staring directly into his eyes, daring him to look away. “you never fucked her. did you?” 

yunho’s jaw ticks, but he’s able to keep his face impassive to your glaring pride. “no, i didn’t want to. that’s what you wanna hear, right?” 

“bullshit.” you call immediately, and yunho just smirks. caught.

“fine.” he looks at you through hooded eyes, licking his lips without an ounce of shame. “i couldn’t get it up.” 

he kisses you, and you can’t help the way your heart soars out of your chest. he tried to move on, he tried to force himself to have another girl, and he couldn’t. not after having you. it’s fucked up, but nothing’s ever made you feel so confident. it’s all the motive you need to kiss him back, humming in delight as he works his pants down, all impatient movement as he lines his cock up with your sopping hole. briefly, you wonder why he didn’t push for a condom, though you suspect it’s because he knows damn well you haven’t been with anyone in a while, ever since you’ve been running around single and desperate to mingle. 

yunho sighs as his tip nudges your wet heat, his hands splaying on your inner thighs to spread your legs. almost buzzing with anticipation, you let out a disappointed whine as his hips thrust up, his length sliding through your folds. 

“yunho.” you nearly sigh, too eager for his teasing. 

he cocks his head at you, hips stilling. “is that how you ask?” 

you do sigh this time, and he tuts at you, pulling his hips back. you frown at the loss of his heat, and despite yourself, give in. “please.”

he hums in approval, lining his tip back up, sliding his palms under your ass. “try again.” 

“please, yuyu.” 

he lets out a puff of air, not quite a gasp, before his pelvis snaps and drives his cock all the way in one movement. you sob out as he fills you to the hilt and then some, still as unprepared for his size as you were the first time as his tip presses your cervix. he doesn’t pause for long, pulling out until only the tip’s left in before ramming forward again, spearing you on every inch. 

“fuck. still feel so fucking good, baby.” he praises, breathless, slowly grinding forward just to feel your pussy flutter and adjust around him. you whine, trying to get him to pull out, the fit being way too tight even with how a wet squelching punctuated his movements. he takes the hint, sliding himself out, the palms on your ass grabbing your thighs. “my good girl.”

he pries your thighs as far apart as they go, watching your pussy sucking him in right before he’s slamming the rest of his length back into you. curses laced with praises tumble from yunho’s lips as he fucks you, his hips moving rapidly and slapping against your ass. his hands travel to your knees, pushing your legs back and folding you in on yourself, your ankles to your ears. 

you’re embarrassingly loud at the new angle, his cock fucking you as deep as possible, like he’s trying to mold your insides to him. his grueling pace doesn’t falter once, and you struggle to catch your breaths between each moan, eyes rolling back into your head with each ram of his tip against your g-spot. 

“good, baby. you’re doing so good f’me.” you don’t even realise how wrecked he sounds over your own cries, how his cock pulses violently over your own pussy clenching around him. “fuck, fuck, give me another?” he pleads, obnoxiously whiney, bringing a hand down to rub circles on your clit with his thumb. “yeah, you can. fuckin’ easy.”

you’re too out of it to register the way he talks down on you, only his whimpers reaching your ears, causing you to clamp down on his cock. he smirks as he feels the effect of his noises, quite literally pulsing around him as he rubs your bundle of nerves into a third orgasm, right along with his own. 

you’re gripping him so tight he can’t pull out, barely even moving as he fucks you with quick little snaps of his hips, rutting directly into the spot that has you seeing stars. every nerve end on fire, you only manage a gasp as you cum again, yunho following right after as he grits out a hoarse “good fuckin’ girl.” 

yunho’s frame fully presses you into the bed, shoving his cock in until your cervix lights up with hot pressure, his release dribbling into the deepest part of you. your heart grips in fear for a split second as he shudders and moans above you, months-old suspicions and anxiety flooding back all at once until you remember you’re on birth control. he can’t get you pregnant, you remind yourself. and yet, you’ve never forgotten that fact before — not with your ex. 

only yunho could make you feel like this. 

that tragic fucking realisation has you recoiling, the comfort his warmth brought now felt like crushing pressure. he’s gone limp enough that you’re able to guide him to lay down beside you, his cum seeping down your legs as you stand from the bed on wobbly legs. yunho watches you with half-lidded eyes, seemingly in no rush to stop you as you grab a shirt from the floor and wipe the mess from between your legs. 

you toss the soiled garment into the corner, tugging your dress into place, when yunho asks from behind, “where are you going?” his tone serious, nearly a warning. 

you force a smile onto your face before you throw him a look over your shoulder, hoping your eyes aren’t completely empty as you joke, “you already gave me a pregnancy scare once, i’m not getting a uti too.” 

you hear his laughter as you slip out of the door and shut it, the sudden silence feeling too heavy to breathe in. you try to trudge through it, to make your way to the bathroom, and yet you nearly collapse in the middle of the hall. your hands tremble as you hold yourself, the gravity of what you’ve done twice now crashing over you. in those few seconds, you’ve never felt so alone. 

there’s an approaching click-clack on the floorboards, and you tip your teary eyes up to be met with the worst possible company right now; karina as she rounds the corner. she’s adjusting her dress on herself, makeup smudged, that shiny head of hair messy. she stops when she notices you, disheveled and guilty, the look in her eye sharpening as she crosses her arms. there’s a quiet recognition between you two girls — of what you’ve both just come from. 

you wouldn’t have a clue which of the guys would choose to fuck karina after what happened, but to her, she knows exactly who you’ve been with, ever since you disappeared together downstairs. and that knowledge is enough to ruin your life. 

“you still got away with it, huh?” karina remarks, barely over her breath. “fucking sickos.”

you don’t wait to find out if she had more left to say, barging through karina and ignoring her curse that follows as you run for the stairs. you take the steps two at a time, your shoulders knocking the walls and feet tripping over each other as the edges of your vision blur, pacing the hallway in autopilot until you reach the kitchen. 

fortunately, there’s not a soul in sight to stop you from grabbing the first liquor bottle within reach from the counter, twisting the cap off and drinking it straight. the alcohol burns your throat, tears burn your eyes, shame burns your entire fucking soul. you need to stop it, you need to keep drinking until you can’t feel it, or at least forget it’s there. 

you empty it, setting the glass back down and realising that it was tequila. you gag once, twice, before powering through it and moving onto the next; a half-full bottle of rum, the taste so bitter you nearly choke. your body disagreeing is the last of your priorities, your mind demanding to take it as you keep on drinking. 

your vision’s already spinning before you can reach the bottom, and you don’t get to finish it off as you slump against the island bench, legs giving out on you. you’ve lost total control of your motor functions, and your body eventually slides down, hands feebly grasping at the counter. glass shatters as your head thumps on the polished floor, scalding pressure rising all the way from your stomach until it peaks in your throat. you just barely remember to turn your head to the side as your guts spill from your mouth — tasting the tequila and rum, the moonshine, the water yunho forced down. 

you think you hear voices, unsure if they’re beyond the walls or they’re around you. something turns your head, and you open your eyes to blinding light, vaguely hearing frantic strings of words that might be your name. 

“fuck, fuck, she’s out,” mingi cries, stroking your cheeks without caring for the vomit there. “what the fuck do i do??” 

“she already got it out, she just needs to lay down now.” shuhua tries to reassure the giant on the verge of a panic attack. “i’ve already ordered an uber.” 

“shouldn’t you go to a hospital?” miyeon asks from soyeon’s side, nursing her sore knuckles with a bag of frozen peas. 

“she’d hate that.” yuqi adds, and minnie agrees. “she’ll tank it. seriously, i’ve seen her come up from worse. just keep an eye on her.”

mingi nods frantically, picking you up in his arms, your limp body still clinging to him. he looks down to shuhua, crouched on the floor and picking up the smashed bottle of rum. “thank you, shuhua.”

the girl who you’ve been beefing with, who has clung to your ex’s side, who happened to hear someone in the kitchen and decided to check it out, who saw you laying there and immediately alerted mingi despite it all — simply waves it off, and smiles at him. “it’s nothing. text me tomorrow, let me know how she is.”

──

when your eyes flutter open, you’re not entirely sure you’re alive. it could’ve been seconds, or it could’ve been hours that you stared at the ceiling cloaked in darkness, before eventually attempting to move. though your sore limbs protest, you’re able to prop yourself up and stand from the bed; surprised that you only feel dizzy and a bit hungry, not spewing your insides out like you expected. granted, it must be because you’re still drunk, and the hangover has yet to actually hit. 

taking note of the shadowed shapes around the room, you recognise enough to realise that this is mingi’s room. you’ve woken up in his bed, and he’s nowhere to be found. you retrieve your phone from the charger beside his bed, flicking the flashlight on to find your shoes. 

your eyes widen at the mess that’s accumulated in his space: clothes littering the floor, random junk and bullshit covering the desk. sure, while you were staying here you often had to remind him to tidy up, but he never let it get this bad. 

your chest pangs with guilt as you pick your shoes up and traverse the floordrobe to the door, slipping out and tiptoeing through the hallway, headed for the light at the end of the tunnel: the front door, right next to the kitchen with a lamp left on. 

you’re so focused on escaping that you don’t even register the second presence as you pass by, and the soft call of your name nearly shocks you into an early grave. hand to your heart you jump, backing into the wall, facing with the woman you’ve spent the last few months of your life avoiding. 

mingi’s mother, sat at the dining table with a steaming cup of tea in hand, still in her scrubs and smiling at you. your eyes flick to the digital clock on the wall, reading 4am. she must’ve just come back from a shift — while you’re here trying to sneak out. 

“funny running into you here.” she says, tender. “been a while, hasn’t it?” 

“yeah.” you mutter, shifting on your feet awkwardly. you really don’t want to talk to her, but it’s still her house, and you still broke her son’s heart… 

she nods at the kitten heels in your hands, as well as your general unkempt appearance, still wearing the clothes you wore to the party. “big night?” 

“yeah.. big night.” you frown. “big fucking year.”

“i get that.” with her foot, she pushes out the chair across from her. “sit with me?” when your brows furrow, lips pressing firmer together, she adds, “i never did get to apologise.”

you’d rather do literally anything other than this right now, but you know this has been a long time coming. you couldn’t keep running from or drowning your problems out, they were gonna catch up the second you tripped — and you ate shit. the least you can do is listen to what she has to say, since you were living here rent-free for a while. before you can decide to just make a run for it, you push yourself off the wall, and sit down with her. 

“i know it must be worth nothing now. i know it will never take back all the pain i caused. but i’m so, so sorry.” she says with your name, and it sounds genuine enough. “never did i think it would get like this. then again, i wasn’t thinking much at all. i’m sorry. i should have known to do better. especially for you kids.”

all you say back, is “why?”

she gazes off into the distance, as if reliving those years of her life. “your father… he has a way. i was lonely, struggling on my own, and he said all the right things at the right time.” she smiles ruefully. “all i wanted was for my son to have a dad.” 

“but, my dad hates mingi.” 

she chuckles softly. “he only hated his crush on you. it was too confronting, given what we were doing.”

your lip trembles, a gasp almost slipping from how heat suddenly surges to your face, eyes glossing over. you think of how your father was trying to join a new family instead of being there for his own. how he drove your mother away, then he married yunho’s, just to try and get with mingi’s. through all of it he’s had you, his daughter, and yet it wasn’t enough. he still wanted more. another wife, another child. a son. 

“he didn’t take care of me.” you admit, tears brimming your eyes. “he was never there for me, and yet he could show up for you?”

she heaves a sigh. “i’m really so sorry. i didn’t know he was like that, back then, i.. was seeing a lot of what i wanted to see.”

“what did he do for you?” you ask, nothing more than a shaky whisper. “what made it all worth it?” 

“sometimes money, when it was tight. most times it was just physical… i realised he wasn’t the father figure i wanted.”

you grit out, “how long?” 

“over a few years. it wasn’t consistent. i tried to stop speaking to him, to end the whole thing, but he had his ways, and… i couldn’t keep mingi from seeing yunho, or you. i couldn’t do that to him.” 

you want to scream thinking about each time your dad dropped you and yunho off at mingi’s place then disappear with his mother upstairs. each time he came home late, each time he left early for work, each time he just wasn’t around because he was with her instead. it was happening all around you, and you were the only one who didn’t know. because yunho had told mingi to keep it to himself, for reasons you still don’t understand. 

you let yourself cry, no more than little hushed sobs as your nails bit into your knees. you can’t bring yourself to forgive her, nor can you find it in your heart to hate her. in all the ways you shouldn’t — you get it. you know what it’s like to push and push, all for him to still pull you back in. you know what you want means nothing when he has a way that wins every time. you know it’s not as simple as walking away, since you’ve barely survived a few months of it, when she endured years. 

your father had this coming, and your brother reaped what he sowed, but did all of you deserve to suffer? is it karma that you see yourself in the woman responsible for breaking up your family? is it fate that you’re repeating her mistakes and may end up doing the same one day? 

you don’t want to live through it again, and you don’t want your kids, or yunho’s kids, to grow up through the same shit. it’s already started, you just have to be the one to stop it. 

“i don’t know if i’m ready to.. forgive, but.. i understand.” you say. silver lining her eyes, a pair of boba identical to her son, she nods. “has mingi told you he knew, back then? that yunho made him hide it?” 

“yes, he.. had to go into therapy, after you moved. yunho was horrible to him for a while.” 

as a mother, and possibly the only grownup guidance you can get, you ask her, “do you know why yunho would’ve done that, if he’s the one who ended up telling his mom?” 

“what?” she says, taken aback. “i didn’t know it was yunho, i thought.. well.” her brows crease, some thought occurring to her. “now that you’ve said that, actually, i think i—”

“eomma?” mingi drawls, rubbing an eye as he trudges from the hall. long, loose pyjamas hang from his frame, hair mussed on his head. he looks adorable, and yet it guts you with how his eyes widen in shock at you. “oh, you’re..”

“i’m going for a shower.” his mother announces as she looks between you both, the chair scraping on the floor when she stands. she ruffles mingi’s hair as she rounds him, leaving you both to.. stare at each other. 

mingi takes a weary step forward, and you can tell he must want to hold you, or even just touch you, with how he wrings his hands together. “how are you feeling?” 

“okay, surprisingly.” you reply, and a small smile finds its way on his face. “where were you?” 

“i slept on the couch,” he points towards the living room down the hall, as if you’ve forgotten where it is after the time that’s passed. his face drops a little, brows tipping up in uncertainty. “are you leaving now?” 

“i can stay for a bit.” you reply. “we should probably.. talk, right?” 

mingi nods, wasting no time in shuffling over in case you change your mind, sitting in his mother’s seat. after a pause, you both go to speak at the same time, before apologising and offering the other to go first. it kills you how awkward it’s gotten between you. not long ago you were deeply, uncontrollably in love with this boy, and now you’re walking on eggshells, too scared to even talk over him. why did it get like this? why did you make it like this? 

sighing, mingi starts. “i’m not with shuhua. never was.” you both know it’s what he needed to address first, and you feel like you can actually breathe now. “in january, we had a kind of.. situationship, i guess.” he cringes when he says it. you can tell he’s put the label on it for the sake of your own closure, when it probably didn’t have one in the first place. “it didn’t feel right, so we both agreed to go back to friends. i stopped talking to her when you moved back, not for any reason, i’m just shit at multitasking. but, i care for her, and i felt really bad about it. i’ve been hanging out with her, and she’s helping me through my.. stuff, but i still love you. always.” 

“why didn’t you tell me from the start?” 

“i should’ve.” he admits easily, little resistance. “you had a lot on your plate with school, and yunho, your friends, your family... i just didn’t want it to be another thing stressing you out. it doesn’t matter to me either, sometimes i forget it even happened, but i know it does to you, and i’m sorry. i just..” his eyes find the table as he trails off, torn between continuing or not. you’re about to ask what’s on his mind before he tips his head back, covering his eyes as he groans, “ugh, i know how easy it is to lose you.” 

you gasp out, “what?” 

mingi’s big, guilt-ridden eyes meet yours, his lower lip jutting in a pout. “every little thing’s been setting you off, and i get it, i’m okay being there for you, it’s what i’m here for, but i knew hearing that on top of everything else could crush you. i couldn’t do that to you. not when you and yunho were.. talking again.” 

you hear the implication there, the words that he won’t say yet hang in the air. he was too scared of messing up and having you run to yunho again. 

oh, you love him. with every bone and vessel of blood in your body, you love this boy. you wish you could hold him, tell him that it’s just his anxiety talking, that it would never happen. you wish you could reassure him that he’s wrong and that you belong only to him. you wish you were better for him. 

“i haven’t been with anyone else,” is what you tell him instead, embarrassing as it is. “i tried, but no one reciprocated. i’m really sorry i did that with the boys, i wish i hadn’t… they’re good friends, at least.” 

mingi gives a rueful smile. “it’s alright. they came to me and we spoke about it, there’s no hard feelings. i know you have.. struggles, with certain impulses.” 

silence falls between you, your mutual shame and regret cloaking the air like a storm cloud. you wish you thought it was over, that there was nothing left to cover, but you know it just as mingi does when your eyes meet again. he has to ask about it. 

mingi’s voice comes barely above a breath. “you thought you were pregnant?” you nod, words too much effort to form with the thick knot in your throat. he doesn’t bother asking if it was his, you would’ve said so at the party if it was. “was it from.. that one time?”

your initial confusion flips into shame, utter fucking shame, as you realise what mingi’s really asking you. he’s wondering if you slept with yunho any other time he didn’t know about, which would overlap with when you were dating, when you were supposed to be on birth control too. 

“yes, mingi,” you rush the words out, relieved at how his face falls from the worry etched tight into his features. “my period was late because i was stressed, so i started stressing more and making it even later. i couldn’t have been pregnant. i was just too in my fucking head about it.”

mingi nods, taking it all in, his body untensing and slumping in the chair. the shine never strays from his eyes, and he looks even prettier when he’s about to cry. the memory of it still drives you crazy, how easy it is to pull tears from him just by being on top of him and telling him ‘no’. that piece of control being wholly yours is more than enough to be grateful for, so why couldn’t it be enough for you to stay with him? 

“let’s tell each other everything from now on,” mingi says, giving you that look that always make you buckle. the furrowed brows, the begging eyes. “i don’t want to keep anything from you again. no more secrets?”

“no more secrets.” you promise, mingi smiling across from you. you’re halfway to returning it, before a memory suddenly strikes you like lightning, petrifying you in place. 

you’d completely forgotten until now, until you thought for sure things would start to be okay. it’s as if you were trying to block the memory out, convince yourself it didn’t happen. no matter what you tell yourself, it very much did, and you owe it to mingi to know. you just promised him so. 

“mingi, i,” you can hardly speak, let alone admit it, hands coming to hold either side of your face as a sob works its way up your throat. he shifts in his seat, about to dive across this table to hug you, but you hold your hand up to stop him. you don’t deserve his comfort for this. “we, god, fuck—” you choke, mingi nothing but a blur as tears fill your vision. “yunho and i, it happened again.” 

you can’t hear the way mingi’s breath stops over your own soft sobs. timidly, he asks, “last night?” you nod rapidly. his voice stoops lower as he says, “he had you while you were drunk?” 

“no i—sobered up,” you’re quick to correct, making the mistake of rubbing your eyes to see him. mingi’s pain shows clearly on his face, the fact you’re still rushing to defend yunho like it’s your right.

mingi’s jaw works, his lips sucking in breaths and then pressing together like he can’t decide on what to say. knuckles turning white where they grip the edge of the table, he finally says, “i can’t keep doing this.”

“doing what??” you exclaim, trying and failing to not fall into full-blown panic mode. 

he uses your name, and it rips your fucking heart apart with how his voice is trembling, just as close to crumbling completely as you are. “i don’t know how much more i can take. i’ve been patient, and i’ve been understanding, and i’d never force you to choose. but it will always break my heart when you go back to him. i don’t know if i can keep watching it happen. if i can keep pretending that it isn’t.. not okay.”

“it isn’t! i know, fuck, i know it is. i don’t think it’s okay either, mingi. it kills me.” you rush to say, to fight for him, to plead with him to hear you. “i wanted it to stop, i wanted everything to be fucking normal. i never wanted this with him.” 

“but he still got you again.” 

the words hit the room like a bullet. the both of you wounded and bleeding, wanting to soothe each other, but knowing you’ll only cut yourselves deeper. 

mingi breaks the silence with a breath that sounds more like a gasp, his cheeks coated in thin streams of silver. “i’m sorry, i..i really love you. i love you more than anything, you already know that. but i.. i don’t know if i can be what you need right now. i don’t think i can take care of you.” 

“what do you mean, mingi? what are you saying?” 

“i just… i’m not taking it well, this time. i don’t want you to hate me, or have to deal with me, so… i think i need to be alone.” he sputters, crying, “i’m so fucking sorry.”

──

“so you’re on break, but not broken up?” 

you nod, picking at the slice of apple pie before you. a waste of money really, since you knew you’d lose your appetite anyways. “we both needed space.. which, we should’ve had more of from the start, instead of jumping into it so quick.” you know you’re both equally at fault for it — mingi wanted to make sure yunho couldn’t snatch you up, and you wanted anything but to feel alone again. 

after literal months of trial and error, finding your footing only to slip and fall; you’ve finally got the hang of feeling like you belong. in the time since you and mingi agreed to stay apart, your days have been spent with friends, who you can finally see holding onto for life. you had the guys; mostly seonghwa, with hongjoong if you third-wheeled, or yeosang and jongho whenever schoolwork had you crying. and you had the girls; whose homes you’ve been couch-hopping, and shockingly, now included the girl sitting across from you in cafe fossoway. 

“he’s been okay.” shuhua tells you around a mouthful of pasta. “he was harassing me earlier, asking if i could take a picture of you to show him.”

you chuckle, feeling so bittersweet over your boy. it was nearing a month since you’d last since him, keeping in touch solely through third parties (mainly hongjoong and shuhua), letting the distance reveal what it was that you truly wanted — and your heart has only grown fonder. you were sick of the endless conversations, of him always fussing over you, and yet you’d take that in a heartbeat over living a lie with yunho. mingi cares about you, more than you knew how to handle; and after the chaos that was the last few years without him, suddenly having someone to ground you felt like hell. you know just what mingi means to you now, and you’ve sworn to never take him for granted again.

shuhua makes a noise as a thought occurs to her, “ah, i just remembered something. you know that time i showed up to yuqi’s, after mingi dropped me off? 

“how could i forget..” you groan, head in your hands from the cringe. you back then would have dropped dead from the shock if you told her that you and shuhua eventually communicated like adults and made up, able to joke about your petty beef now. 

“that day, when i was hanging out with him, mingi promised me not to tell you— he cried over you.” your eyes bug out of your head. she goes on, “i can’t recall everything he said, but, he was so worried, and he kept talking about yunho. it sounded like he was scared you’d cheat on him, even though that’s your stepbrother, but still.” 

“what the fuck?” 

“yeah.. it’s why i was a bitch to you, sozz. but he was a fucking wreck.”

“no, that’s fair,” you deadpan stare at the pie like it’s personally responsible, and shuhua chuckles, reaching out to put her hand on yours. 

“he told me i could tell you about it now. i just thought you should know.” she smiles, reassuring. “i have never seen a guy in love like mingi is with you. never doubt that, okay?”

that lunch date with shuhua is what put the idea in your head, and the very next day you found yourself standing on the doorstep, hands full with a family feast of fried chicken.

“you’re here quick.” mingi’s mother greets you as she opens the door, smizing at the large paper bag you were cradling, from mingi’s favourite fast food chain. 

“i was already on the way over when i texted.” you admit shyly. thank god she answered on short notice, since there’s no way you could eat all this by yourself. 

“he’s in his room,” she tells you, stepping to the side so you could walk in. “never leaves these days.” 

you thank her before you descend the hall, knuckles tapping on his door. he softly calls out “come in!” like you’re his mother, and you coo to yourself, overcome with adoration for him. you turn the knob and nudge the door open, smiling as you appear in the frame, waiting for him to realise as turns in his swivel chair. 

mingi’s mouth drops open when he sees you, eyes blinking rapidly to check you’re really there, in case the lack of sleep has him seeing things. they flick between your face and the food in your hands, his fingers crushing the arms of his chair like he’s telling himself to stay put instead of leap at you. 

“can i come in?” mingi nods rapidly, too ecstatic to even remember to smile. you could cry over how cute he is, how he looks like a dog after you’ve said all its favourite words. how he’s yours. you walk over to him, his starry eyes tracking you as you stop beside him, placing the paper bag on his (now clean) desk. “what’s this?” you ask, gesturing at the program up on his computer. 

mingi does a double take, out of his element since you’ve surprised him. he scratches the back of his neck, “oh, uh, just messing around. making some beats.” 

“could i hear?” 

mingi looks like he’s buzzing with excitement, grinning widely at you, though you can tell he’s still trying to tone it down, like he might scare you off. he clicks around with his mouse, and the short track plays out loud. you’re not even exaggerating with your reaction, pride swelling in your chest as you listen, mingi’s eyes watching you for approval. 

“holy shit, is it finished?” he shakes his head, unsure where this is going. “mingi, that sounds really good.” 

the way pink dusts his cheeks and he giggles shyly gives you insane cuteness agression, wanting to sink your teeth in or jump his bones. you can’t help but feel so proud of him; he’s very passionate about music, and has danced around the idea of creating something himself, but he hasn’t been able to get the time or focus enough for it. you’re glad he’s come through, and that he felt open to sharing it with you. 

“is that..” you squint at the corner of the screen, reading the name of the file. “did you name it after me?” mingi stammers, caught off-guard, and you just giggle, placing your hand over his where it grips the arm of the chair. “that’s adorable, babe.” 

mingi’s eyes widen, his mouth slightly parted. he hasn’t heard you call him that for months. you hike your knee up next to his thigh, bending down to sit yourself in his lap, and mingi looks like a deer in headlights. you could almost forget you’ve spent years as close friends, the last months as lovers, with how clueless he seems on what to do. your hands come up to cup his face, and you just admire him for a moment. he’s so good-looking, your boy. sexy and adorable and pretty all at once. sharp features, a cutting gaze, all that seem to soften when they’re faced with you. 

“i don’t know what i was tripping for,” you start, looking into his big, glossy eyes. “you’re the only one for me. i should’ve never doubted that, and i’m sorry it’s taken.. all of this, for me to understand.” you give him a rueful smile, the knot in his brows deepening. “i love you, and i promise, i want to stay with you.” 

mingi continues to pout at you, clearly trying not to cry, and you can’t help but let out a giggle of adoration. your lips leave a soft peck on his, mingi’s face openly showing his shock as you pull back. uncertain in his silence, you murmur, “is this okay?” 

mingi nods frantically, cheeks splitting into a helpless grin, before his arms are snatching you up into a bear hug. he peppers your hair with pecks, breathing your scent in with a sigh. “i missed you.” he smooches all over the side of your face, while you yelp under his attack. “sososososososoooo much.”

“i missed you too, my mingi.” you giggle, sweetly pecking the tip of his nose, rendering him dumbstruck. you feel so enamoured with him, his lost puppy eyes that wait for your move first, that you can’t help but surge forward to kiss him again. there’s force behind it this time; channelling every moment apart where you longed to hold him, to hear his voice, to smell his vanilla cologne, to look into his eyes. you’re in love with him, and you spell it out as you kiss him, reverent as your lips move against his. 

mingi follows your lead, though you can tell he’s barely restraining himself from heating this up, having clearly outdone you in terms of missing each other. his arms still hold you, fingers splayed over your back; delicate, like you’re glass. though neither of you intended for the kiss to go anywhere, it’s no surprise that you work each other up, someone’s lips parting first before the kiss deepened — breaths turning into quick puffs, tongues teasing the edges of mouths, bodies pressed firmly together and it still not being close enough. 

you pull back before it can completely fall into the steamy direction it’s headed, your lips buzzing, fingers twisted in mingi’s soft locks. “what about the food?” 

“i’ll eat it cold,” mingi replies without missing a beat, his lips shiny from your saliva. “i just want you.”

he slots his lips against yours, tilting his head to lick into your mouth, a whine rolling off his tongue that you chase with your own. you stay like that for a bit, nothing more than kissing, your hands squeezing each other here or there. with how slow and deep your mouths moved together, how tight your bodies were pressed, you very quickly feel that familiar hardness prodding your ass where you’re sat on him. you’ve missed feeling it — not even in a sexual context entirely, just.. feeling the physical evidence of his love for you, how easily you can rise it out of him. 

he’s desperate for you, worsened only by the time apart. there’s an intensity in each of his kisses, a plea as his breaths turn into pants, hips ever so slightly twitching below you. mingi never makes a move without you explicity telling him to, even now that he knows your body as well as his own. he’s throbbing where your ass pushes on him, letting out needy little whimpers as your tongue slides against his, and yet he’d contentedly sit just like this if you didn’t want to go further. he’s so good. even too good for you. 

“i want you.” you mutter as you plant a hot, open-mouthed kiss on his neck, mingi’s entire body stiffening like a dog hearing the word treat. your tongue licks a stripe up his neck, and his adam’s apple bobs in a gulp, the sight driving you crazy. 

“i’ve missed you so much.” he says in a whine, with those flipped brows and pout that tugs at your heartstrings. “i was trying, but.. i couldn’t, do it, without you..” he admits meekly, unable to meet your delighted eyes. “it wasn’t the same.. it didn’t feel good.” 

you coo at him, brushing his hair back, leaving a sweet kiss in the middle of his creased forehead. “you were thinking about me?” he nods, and you pinch his chin, smile beaming down at him. “what did you think of?” 

he lets out a groan as you roll your hips, dragging your ass over his boner, precum making a mess of his sweatpants. his hands find your waist as you grind gently, eyes honed in on the space where your bodies connect. he gulps, willing his voice to come in an answer. “i thought of.. when you’re on top of me,” he blushes furiously as your hands run over his chest, brushing by his nipples, his pelvis jolting up from the sensitivity. “i tried to imagine you telling me what to do, or that it was your hands instead of mine..” 

you pout in sympathy, your chest swelling with pride over how whipped this giant is for you. your hand slides under his shirt, nails scraping over his toned stomach, and he responds with the sexiest of whimpers. “i can take videos, for the next time you miss me.”

mingi’s head falls back into the chair with a groan, his fully hard length straining against his pants, unbelievably worked up from friction the fabric offers. “you’d do that?” you hum, and he sighs out, fingers kneading your flesh. “god, you’re so good to me.”

“you deserve it.” you whisper at the shell of his ear, dragging your teeth over a sensitive spot at his jaw, his body overcome with shivers as you suck a hickey onto his skin. “i wanna make it up to you, make you feel good.” 

“please,” mingi whimpers, meeting the rock of your hips with the smallest rut of his own, a wet stain on the front of his pants from the heat gliding over his length. “i want you to, i want you so bad, please, you can do anything.”

telling you that right now, with the pleading eyes and pathetic tone, is some dangerous territority. if you weren’t feeling so soft for him, you’d absolutely make good on his request and ravage him until he couldn’t tell up from down. mingi gets a little too ahead of himself sometimes, especially when he’s balls deep in you and his mouth has a mind of its own, overestimating how much he can handle with the things he begs you to do to him. you make the choices for him while he’s in that headspace, despite how enticing it is to listen with tears streaming down his face and red patches littering his skin. 

too busy fawning over how beautifully behaved he is for you, you almost hadn’t noticed how close mingi was to ruining his pants; absentmindedly grinding on top of him, while he was heaving and digging his nails into your waist, eyes fluttering shut as an orgasm sat right at the back of his throat. you’d quickly pulled yourself off of his lap when you realised he was going to cum, perhaps not even knowing it himself, and mingi whines at the loss of your weight as you stand. 

you hold your hand out for him, raking your eyes over his body; how he’s slumped against the chair, face flushed and hairline sweaty, a thick impression against his sweats with a dark spot at the top. he’s so big, and pretty all over, and it’s all yours to have. “come to the bed?” 

mingi’s springing up out of the chair before you can blink, grabbing your face as he brings himself to you, connecting your lips again. he’s missed every part of you, more than he knew what to do with, so he can’t help but want to kiss you at every second there is to spare; just like the first time you kissed, all those months ago. you step with him as he backs you into the bed, his lips glued to yours until your knees hit the edge of the mattress. the brief kiss breaks as you drop down onto it, mingi towering over you. 

silently, he kneels on the floor, holding your heated gaze as his palms slide over your thighs. the eager look on his face is all that asks before you’re parting your legs for him, breath hitching in a gasp as his head dives in, kissing the skin of your inner thigh. he dotes on you, leaving kisses between your thighs, the heat in the middle throbbing for his attention. you sigh as he lightly sucks the skin, burying your hands in his hair and giving an appreciative tug, his whimper vibrating on your thigh. your legs shine with spit, dotted with pink spots by the time he’s done, looking to you for approval once more as his fingers find your shorts. you nod, raising your hips to let him tug both layers down. 

bare from the waist down, mingi looks like he’s falling in love all over again as his eyes marvel at the arousal glistening on your pussy. you feel a little shy with how hard he’s staring, which is quickly wiped as you notice a hand gripping himself through his pants. you nudge him with your foot, sending him a warning glance that has his hand falling away. “sorry, i can’t help it.” he murmurs timidly, the control entirely in your hands. “you’re just.. so beautiful.” 

you giggle, scratching at his scalp, earning a deep groan from him. “you’ll have your turn. don’t cum until i tell you to, okay?” 

he nods, eyes shining with a thirst for your approval, and it’s all he needs to lean forward, leaving a sweet kiss on your clit before his tongue runs through your folds. you gasp at the heat, the pressure he applies as he licks broad stripes up and down, mingi’s eyes rolling back from the taste of you. it’s almost polite, the way he starts off, pressing a few more kisses to your pussy between glides of his tongue. 

your fingers ball in his hair, tightening each time he licks over your clit, and the sting only spurs mingi on, hungry for your pleasure. his eating turns messy, his entire mouth buried in your pussy as he stimulates you all over. swirling his tongue at your hole, burying it inside you, nose bumping at your clit before he sucks it into his mouth. there’s no rhythm in it, just pure instinct as he follows the noises you grace him with from above, moaning out broken versions of his name as he devours you. 

mingi doesn’t even need a method, he always acts on whim and plays it by ear whenever his face is between your thighs, and yet it will never fail to have your gut tightening within record time. if anything, it’s the desperation in it, how you can tell it gets him off just as much as it does you — how you can hear it, with the high-pitched whines he lets out while he’s stuffed in your pussy. 

entirely too focused on your arousal coating his tongue, mingi doesn’t even get to add his fingers before your hands are grasping at the ends of his hair for dear life, your moans coming quicker as your orgasm takes you both by surprise. he’s still sloppy as he laps at you through it, your entire body rocking on the bed as bliss floods your veins. you even feel a little dizzy as you start to come back to, not realising how hard you were screwing your eyes shut. or how tight you were holding mingi’s hair, the boy whimpering in pain between your legs, getting your attention as he taps your thigh. 

your hands fly off of him, caressing his slick-coated cheeks, panic surging inside you. “fuck, i’m so sorry, mingi, are you okay?” 

he shakes his head, flashing a dopey grin up at you, running his tongue over the taste of you on his lips. “yeah. i was gonna cum, ‘s all. wanna be good for you.”

how he manages to completely take your breath away without trying, you’ll never know. you don’t know what to do about it other than just kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue, pouring your love as you lick into his mouth. you pull him up by his shirt, the kiss breaking as you guide him to stand. you smile tenderly at him, his own wide with adoration and a little bit of disbelief, and you reach out to tug at his waistband. he lets you bring both layers down, sighing in immense relief as his cock is freed, leaving a dot of pre where it bobs against his shirt. 

you mouth waters merely looking at him, your thumb not meeting your fingers as you grab it by the base; just like you’ve down countless times before, and yet his cock pulses as if this was the first. you stare directly into his eyes as you lean in — it always flusters him like crazy — pressing your lips to the head of his cock in a kiss. he giggles, shyly covering his face, and you pull away to tell him, “don’t. i wanna see you.”

as his hands fall away, mingi’s already red face is a shade deeper as your mouth meets him again, and he forces his fluttering eyes to stay open as you take him into your mouth. every single inch gliding past your lips with ease, long having adjusted to fitting his girth inside, mingi letting out a broken noise as his tip nudges the back of your throat. with the way your mouth stretches around him, you remember that he didn’t exactly get to prep you on his fingers — although, you’re gushing like a waterfall down there, he could probably slip right in with minimal sting. 

you know how this will go before you even start, and yet you continue because you want to return the favour (and just maybe to watch him fall apart above you, too). you pull back, hollowing your cheeks as your lips suck up his length, rivulets of pre coating your tongue. mingi can barely even stand with his knees buckling, his large hand in your hair all that’s keeping him upright. you remind yourself to go slow — else this will all end far too early — as you reverse the movement, bobbing your head to take him back down your throat, a high-pitched whined resounding above. 

you only make it halfway up his length before mingi’s face is screwing, and he gently pushes you the whole way off, his cock lurching in front of your face as he deeply groans through a wrecked breath. “‘m sorry..” he mutters, stroking your hair. “‘s too good.” 

“i know.” you smile, hardly an accurate representation of how insane he makes you feel. most days, he doesn’t even let you touch him before getting to the main event, since you both know he’ll cum way too fast for his own good. you’ve reassured him plenty that it’s far from something to be ashamed of. is there a better compliment in the whole world than the fact your touch feels so fucking good that he physically can’t hold back? 

you guide mingi down to your level, pulling him with you as you lay back on the bed, meeting him halfway for a kiss. he moans over his taste on your tongue, his body laying atop yours, hips lowering until his cock nudges your folds. you moan into each other’s mouths, sliding your wet heat together as you both rut messily, desperately. 

“how do you want it?” you exhale into the kiss with a suggestive lilt to your voice, already expecting his answer. 

“like this.” mingi huffs, taking you back. you assumed it’d be the usual: you riding him, considering how pliant he’s been today. he must be feeling sentimental, of course, with how his arms slide under your back and hold you, how each kiss is deliberate and firm. 

you position his cock for him, mingi pulling back with a hiss as his tip bumps your hole, big eyes looking into yours for confirmation. you nod, dragging your other hand up to hold his face. “go on.” 

your word is all he needs to push forward, and you focus on your breathing the head of his cock stretches you open. you’re soaked, mingi biting his lower lip raw at how you’re squeezing him, yet the glide is enough for him to nudge forward. his head drops to the crook of your neck once he fills you to the hilt, his length giving a harsh pulse inside you, and you wince over the sting. mingi drags his head up, sensing your discomfort, and you just kiss him with a nod to keep going. 

everything mingi does is slow; from the way his hips pull out and when his length pushes back in, to the rhythm he sets as he starts to move. he’s taking his time, savouring this; drawing out each drag of his length against your walls, each deep kiss he gives you that steals your breath away. his hands stay caressing your body, eyes attentive to each little twitch of your face, overwhelming amounts of love pouring out of his irises. every thrust fills you up completely, his cock deliberately pressing against your g-spot. 

it almost frightens you, how intimate this is. how you can feel him everywhere, the warmth of his body wrapping around yours, the weight of his love in each touch he gives you, sinking under your skin and turning you to mush. you’ve never felt more vulnerable in your life, and you’d run without looking back if this wasn’t your mingi. the boy who carried you through the hardships of your childhood, who picked up right back where he left off after you came back into his life all those months ago, who may continue to do so for the rest of your life. he’s your one love, your only love. it should’ve never taken this long for you to come to terms with it — but you suppose you’ve got forever to make it up to him now. 

deft fingers find your clit, and you moan out his name when he starts to draw circles on the sensitive bud, breaking a tender kiss to look into your eyes as he gives you another orgasm. his hips pick up slightly, fucking you faster and aiming for your sweet spot, giving you that little bit more pleasure to bring you to the edge — the same edge mingi’s been teetering on ever since he slid in, prioritising your release before he even thinks about his own. 

he’s memorised the perfect way you like it, so it’s not long at all until you’re throwing your head back into the mattress, moans spilling from your throat as your pussy clenches down on him. you don’t even hear yourself over mingi, letting out high, helpless into your ear as he focuses on fucking you right until the end, his orgasm following directly after yours. your walls are still fluttering around him by the time his cum spills inside of you, his hips kicking weakly as his body sags on top of you, your name whimpered into your ear. 

mingi kisses you, as he often does after you’ve both finished, except it feels like something else entirely this time. maybe it’s the way he breathes out an “i love you” and you return an “i love you too” right back. maybe it’s the way wetness coats your cheeks, mingi sniffling as he tears up from all the feelings welling up inside him. maybe it’s the way he makes no move to pull out, nor you to tell him to, as you continue to kiss and hold each other like there’ll be no tomorrow. his cock’s still hard where it’s buried deep in you, and you’re both in for a long overdue night with each other. though, if tomorrow does come, you know that you’ll belong to one another for good.

──

“daaaamn mamacita!” wooyoung exclaims from yuqi’s side, the pair swaying to the thumping music, beer cans sloshing in their hands. “give us a twirl!”

you add a spin into your strut, the short skirt of your dress flowing, the room erupting into hollers and cheers. seonghwa wolf-whistes at you, tucked under hongjoong’s arm where they’re sprawled on the couch. soyeon, miyeon and soojin were packed in like sardines beside them, sharing a bottle of wine and giving their finger taps of approval. minnie and shuhua were catcalling you from the dancefloor, alongside an already shirtless san and blushing yeosang. 

“i’ve got dibs on that ass first!” minnie shouts at the redhead, earning a cackle from you. “you can all fight for seconds!”

jongho, leaning on the wall and watching it all with a smirk, pushes himself off as you pass by, going to cheers his drink with yours — a glass of whiskey clinking your can of coke. even on a special occasion like tonight, joined by all your friends partying in the house you grew up in, you’ve long since lost your taste for alcohol. 

“young lady, where do you think you’re going?” seonghwa calls after you, moving like you’re on a mission. “come join us!”

“can’t, i fear.” you answer over your shoulder, earning a few groans and sobs of protest from the room. “mom asked for my help in the kitchen. i’ll be back after, i promise!”

you make your way over, eyes finding the cake on the counter as you enter — your name written in cursive, candles of the numbers ‘21’ on top — before you stop in place at the unexpected presence there too. 

“…yunho?” you mutter, stomach sinking to your feet. your parents said he was going out tonight — they said he was going to miss the party. and here he was, half-slumped against the counter, sending you a look so intense you could choke. 

you nearly do when he surges forward, too shocked to react as his arms wrap around you, burying his face in your shoulder and breathing you in. you do the same, grimacing at how he reeks of alcohol, just above his usual sandalwood cologne and the musk of sweat. you can’t help but wonder, where the fuck has he been? of course he has to do this to you today, on your day. of course he has to make it all about him. 

“i missed you.” yunho murmurs, pressing a hot kiss to your bare neck, and you shove him away. his eyes are wild, pupils pin-sized, and it has your chest gripping. you’ve never seen him look so.. a mess. 

“i told you this had to stop.” you feel like a broken record as you reaffirm it, just like every other time he’s cornered you around the house like this and almost got you. almost. there was one particular instance where you were too close to giving in, and that’s when you packed your shit and left for good. you and your brother can’t be left alone together, and you’ve learned that the hard way. “please respect my wishes, and move on.”

“i can’t stop loving you, baby.” he admits in a broken voice, the alcohol stripping him of all defences. “i can’t stop wishing for what we were, i can’t.. i can’t without you.”

“i know. i know that’s the way you are, and.. i’ve made peace with it. but, i’m done.” you take a gamble by grabbing his hand, meeting his glossy eyes. “you’re my brother, and i love you.”

yunho shakes his head, frantic. the acceptance cuts even deeper than a rejection — there’s no room for doubts, for moments of weakness, for changing your mind. “you begged me not to leave you. i’m doing what you wanted.” 

you press your lips together, unwelcome memories wafting back of that night you should’ve never shared at wooyoung’s place. “what if i told you that i don’t want you like that ever again? that i want us to be the siblings we’re meant to be?”

“then i’d wait.” 

torn. your heart is torn to fucking shreds. he’ll never give up on trying. you almost fear for what the future holds — how can you ever be a family, knowing that he’s always going to leave that door open? 

“one last time?” he asks, so gently tilting his head to align with yours. the way his glossy eyes beg you, it tugs at what remains of your heartstrings, wanting so badly to give in just to see him smile again. but you’ve come a long way, and you can’t give that all up for him. not when you couldn’t possibly do or say anything to get him to leave you now. 

you lean in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, softly, platonically. his eyes have darkened when you pull away, and you gulp when you catch his hands moving to readjust the front of his pants. before he can do anything about it, before you can do anything to stop him, your stepmother’s voice approaches. you whirl to face the direction, hearing yunho leaving out the other entrance before she can appear. gone, like he was never there. another secret to keep from your parents.

“aw, baby.” she drawls over your stricken face, pulling you in for a hug, holding a glass of wine that you smell on her before you see. the way she’s clinging to you, along with her drink of choice, you can tell this is something serious. she notices the way you tense, and she tuts. “you’re not in trouble, don’t worry. i just wanted to.. give you a piece of my mind, i suppose.” 

that does next to nothing to calm your nerves, but you nod, sipping your can of coke and hoping it can relax you the way a drink would. tentatively, you ask, “and what’s that?” 

she heaves a sigh, staring off into the distance. “after.. yunho’s father walked out on us,” she starts, already shocking you stiff. “i swore to myself that the next one would stay. i wanted marriage, i wanted a nice house, i wanted more kids. and i got it, your father gave me that, but.. i also breathed down his neck constantly to make sure of it. of course, if you love something, you shouldn’t strangle it, because they’ll only want to be free.” she laments, sipping from the glass. “i think that’s what pushed him to cheat.” she smiles at wide-eyed you. “yunho’s just like me. i see it in him, with you two.” 

you pick your jaw up off the floor, stammering as you try to find the words. “but, why are you blaming yourself for what he did?” you ask, meaning your father, and in a way, yunho too.

“i don’t want you to lose one another.” your stepmother says instead. “when you and your father left, i lost my boy. he was quiet, and cold, and uninterested. he’s never brought friends here, never even dated or spoke about girls. he was okay, when you came back,” her voice cracks, and she covers it with another sip of wine. “but when you and mingi dropped him a bit ago, he went back into his shell. it broke me to see.” she tears up, placing her other hand on your shoulder. “i don’t care how you both go about it. i just want you and yunho to have each other no matter what. some people may never experience the love you share, and that shouldn’t be lost.”

a part of you still bitter, you ask, “what about karina? he has her.”

her face screws, puzzled. “is that.. someone he’s seeing?” 

oh. 

it dawns on you, karina’s words ringing in your head: ‘'cause he’s too busy fucking you, right?' their relationship didn’t even exist outside of being thrown right in front of your face. he didn’t love her, he didn’t even like her, it was just to get back at you for hurting him with mingi. he played you, and it fucking worked. 

your stepmother downs the rest of the wine, setting the empty glass on the counter before turning her full attention to you. “baby.. yunho was so wrecked for years. i felt horrible that i divorced your father, that he lost you because of it. and oh, when i told him your father and i were speaking again, he wouldn’t stop asking about you. he was finally smiling again.” her hand slides up to hold your cheek, her eyes tearing up, and it rattles you before she even speaks. “i had a feeling. motherly intuition. i’ve seen it in him since you were kids, and even more when you came back, but.. i had no business judging him or telling him how to feel. not when i took you away from him.”

you half-gasp, half-whisper, “what?”

“he looks like he’s in love around you.” she goes on, stroking your face, as if it could be any comfort with your heart stopping in your chest. “when you started staying with mingi, i knew something must’ve happened.” she smiles, knowing, and you feel like you could vomit. “you’ve both had a hard life, and i’m so glad we’ve brought you together. i’ll always love you both, no matter what.” 

you can’t breathe, can’t even blink, blurry saucer eyes staring into your stepmother’s as she wipes the tears from hers. she knew. she’s known. she doesn’t say it outright — and who fucking would? — but you can hear what she’s telling you. she knows the truth of yunho’s feelings for you, she knows her two kids have been intimate, have crossed that line no family should, and she doesn’t care. 

“it’s funny,” she sniffles, “i can’t tell whether it’s for better or worse that yunho told me your father was cheating.” you thousand-yard stare at her, words beyond you. “we wanted to try for another kid, you know. but now it’s too late for that.” 

for an entire moment, your heart doesn’t beat. you think you could drop dead. all this time, you’ve been left wondering why the fuck yunho ruined everything. why he told mingi to hide it, only to reveal it himself and cause all the dominos to topple over. it’s because you would’ve been tied by a sibling. there would’ve been no room for him to ever fulfill his fucked up desires if you were his sister by blood. yunho had to fuck it all up, had to selfishly take away his mother’s wishes to have another child, just so he could ensure that one day, he still had a chance with you. 

happy fucking birthday to you. 

your stepmother changes the topic, asking you something about the cake, though you don’t hear her over the shrill ringing that pierces through your ears. you turn away, feet moving without thinking, taking you anywhere but here with her. you might faint, you might throw up your entire stomach, you might dissolve into the ground and never appear again. your brain pangs with solutions, with familiar urges that promise an easy fix — since above all else, you’re still your father’s daughter. but instead of drinking your weight in alcohol or fucking someone you’ll regret tomorrow like you’ve done countless of times before, you find yourself standing behind the large hunk of a man that brings instant comfort just from the sight of him. 

you tap his back, and when he turns, you let the waterworks flow freely before he can even get a word out. “eomma, i’ll have to call you back, i love you.” mingi rushes out, hanging up and pocketing his phone. he instantly reaches for you, tucking you under his arms as you try not to scream into his chest, staining his shirt with tears. “hey, hey, what happened?” he whispers softly, as if trying not to scare away a frightened animal. 

mingi looks through the windows of the house, gauging the inside, wondering what possibly could’ve gone down within the last ten minutes he left you alone. his mother had called him, and you promised him you’d be okay if he went outside to speak with her. yet now you’re here, clinging to him, shuddering with each sob, sounding more wrecked than he’s seen you in months. since the day he climbed through your window and you told him what yunho had done. 

“i can’t.” is all you tell him, all you can really say. “i can’t, i can’t,” 

“it’s okay.” mingi shushes you, patting your back and stroking your hair. the little comforting touches that always manage to calm you down. “you don’t have to.” he kisses the top of your head, his thumbs sweeping under your eyes to wipe the tears. “do you want to go home?” 

not back inside, not the house you lived your childhood and early teen years in, not the house you’ve thrown your birthday party at, not the house with all your friends and family inside. to mingi’s — the one you’ve moved into, the one you call your home now. 

sniffling, you shake your head. his brows flip over in confusion, and you try to give him a smile. “i have to stay for the cake at least.” you say with certainty. after everything you’ve been through, all the comfort you need, truly need, is mingi by your side. “then, we never have to come back here again.”

[makeitworse]

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[peachglazed]

I finished reading this two hours ago and my mind is still reeling… im terrified on how this is going to end because, yes, I was hoping she’d end up with yunho but minki is literally so sweet and perfect🥺 if something happens to minki or his mom I stg im gonna lose it 😭😭… oc is officially my client, i felt so sad for her the ENTIRE time; yes she’s messy and self destructive but holy shit the whole family is fucked & yunho is literally the devil? I couldn’t stop crying when she was just pleading with him to love her like a normal sibling, the desperation of just wanting to hold onto the only pure familial love you’ve felt your entire life & the way he just leverages it against her(I’m getting pissed off just thinking about it again)… also the entire last scene made me think of when they were having dinner and yunho is clearing the table & oc says “what a nice young man you’ve raised.” just for her father to leave; at first I brushed it off as her dad being an asshole (he is) but it DID make me wonder just how much is the stepmother tolerating for the sake of yunho… I want to delve into the parents so bad but I feel like I’m rambling😭 bc yes I was so paranoid that everyone WAS plotting against oc in some way in terms of their mutual friends, but now I just feel like I was paranoid about the wrong people….

this was so amazing, I’m sorry if this doesn’t even make any sense this entire story is a fucking rollercoaster. I’m sooooo nervous about the next half pls don’t hurt us too much 🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

[jejewonster]

Training Wheels (3)

𑣲 pairing: jeon wonwoo x f!reader 𑣲 genre: drugs, dubcon, smut (MDNI 18+ ONLY) 𑣲 wordcount: 2.8k

— the willowed line between abhorrence and fixation was sending him into a state of mania. a continuation of training wheels.

𑣲˙ smut tags & warnings: mean!wonwoo, obsessive!reader, virgin kink, DUBCON, spanking, choking, cumshots. mingyu is a plot device huhu sry not sry. reader is slipped aphrodisiacs. 𑣲 read my guidlines. don't like don't read. block me if this isn't your cup of tea. not beta-read.

𑣲 part one, 𑣲 part two.

Only God knows what happens here.

When the lights are off, when the sun has set, Wonwoo is left with his own thoughts. The rage in his abdomen is fueled further as he spends time stalking your Instagram. He daren’t make a noise, quiet as a mouse, his phone screen the sole illuminator in his room. Only God knows what happens here, when his slender fingers curl over the bulge in his sweatpants. The illusion of choice was there. The assumption that he can turn off his phone, exit your profile, sleep till his erection deflates. He could decide to ignore you and move on, yet he couldn’t put his phone down. 

The scoff that leaves him is the first sound he has made in an hour, pupils dilated and his tongue constantly swiping over his lips to catch his drool. Flitting constantly over his screen, he analyzes every detail of your posts, your highlights, everything. Knowledge of your desperation, your constant plea for his attention, should have made the raunchiness of your photos less surprising. Although he knows all these things, he can’t help but rove his eyes over your cleavage or the way you pose to show off your curves. Virgin, his ass. You could act as innocent as you wanted, but he knows how much of a whore you become under him. 

Anyone else had to be blind or downright stupid, because he can see you for what you truly are. The short skirts, the lacy lingerie you conveniently always wear under your clothes. There’s no way you didn’t want him to fuck you. There was no fucking way your idea of spending time with him was to only go on enchanting, angelic little dates with him. 

The thought that you had played Wonwoo like a fiddle made the veins under his skin scorching hot. He had to stop, yet that anger did not cease; it only had him tenting his pants with a raging boner. Sticky, wet and red at the tip is the best way to describe his dick right now. A groan leaves him, covered by an exhale of breath as his hands find their way under the waistband that restricted him from falling into the pit of his own sins. 

At the first touch of his sensitive length under his boxers elicits a hiss from him. Before he could overthink his actions, he gathered saliva in his mouth, the string of spit dropping into his palm. The split second he drops his phone to tuck his waistband under his balls is the moment he realizes how deep a hole he dug himself into. There was no going back now, too awake to go to bed, too aware to ignore the gnawing discernment in his stomach. 

Before he could blink, his free hand was scrambling to screenshot your Instagram story. The way his eyes flit from your tits to the lace panties peeking between your thighs. What a fucking tease, Wonwoo thinks. The memories of sinking into your sloppy pussy evoked a terse inhale, then a whisper of your name. The weight of his cock in his palm was heavy, warm as he tried to recall the slick juices your pussy dripping onto his balls. Adrenaline pulses through him, because no matter how much you aggravate him, you still manage to get him rock hard.  

Only God knows what happens here. 

… 

Aside from the bass pounding in Wonwoo’s eardrums, the sound of his two friends snickering beside him felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard. Three pairs of eyes are trained on you, but you only have your attention on one person. His jaw tenses, teeth grinding as the malice stabbed him repeatedly through aching pulses at the back of his neck. Before he could break the staring contest, you had already scurried off to god knows where. Not that he cared, if anything, he was fucking relieved. 

Wonwoo didn’t want to have to see you anywhere. It was already bad enough that you were haunting him through your Instagram posts. The sight of you in a mini skirt and silk polka dot halter top was burned into his brain. Incapable of avoiding the images that flashed before his closed eyes before bed was torture. 

There were two sides of him, splitting his psyche into pieces. One part wanted to choke you out, while the other wanted nothing but to see how easy it would be to fuck you in that stupid mini skirt. 

“Not gonna go and save your girl?” Mingyu mutters beside him. 

Wonwoo wanted to slap the smirk right off his face; instead, he grunted and shook his head. 

“No, and she's not my girl,” Wonwoo replies curtly, his red solo cup creasing under the tense muscles in his palm. 

Mingyu chortles at that, rolling his eyes before patting Wonwoo's shoulder hard. 

“Suit yourself, man. But I came here to get laid. Let’s see how desperate your little fan is.” Mingyu’s eyes glint; the grin on his face despicable. 

There was an ugly, putrid churn in the pit of Wonwoo’s stomach. He plays off his best friend’s words as a joke. Stiff as a reed, he forces a laugh. 

“Go ahead. Find out for yourself if she's willing to play.”

Wonwoo watches his douche bag of a friend seek you out. With feet planted to the ground, he couldn’t bring himself to stop Mingyu. 

… 

The urgent knock at his door disturbs his train of thought.

 He left that party an hour ago. The mental image of Mingyu getting a taste of what he himself had made his blood pressure spike. The cold glass of water burned his fingertips despite the temporary relief it gave him, washing away the scorching heat along his throat. There’s a bitter taste in his mouth as he imagines his best friend getting to you, pulling you close. 

All he did was fuck you once, twice, whatever. Semantics. Yet it only took two times to get him absolutely deep into a cognitive dissonance centred around you. The willowed line between abhorrence and fixation was sending him into a state of mania. 

The resounding echo of the constant knocking on his door was starting to agitate him. He was already wrung so tight he thought he was about to burst. Glass clinks against the coffee table as he stands to answer whoever thought it was a good idea to be disturbing him this late into the night. 

“What the fuck do you wa—,” the sentence dies in his throat. 

There you stood, cheeks flushed, long lashes brushing against your cheeks. The strap of your lace tank top slips down as his gaze fans down from your face to your body. It was like he was being tested, yet the temptation was too strong to ignore. Sounds of your heavy breathing filled the hallway of his apartment. He doesn’t even want to begin to ponder how you got his address, but he can’t judge you when he did the same thing only a few weeks ago. 

Glancing at each end of the hallway, Wonwoo pulls you in before anyone can discover that you were here. The door slams shut, pushing you against it before he has a second to think his actions through. A smirk immediately appears on his face as he examines your debauched appearance, your tiny skirt barely covering your ass and your tits pressed against his chest. You could never stay away for too long; he never doubted that. 

“Now look who's coming back for more,” Wonwoo mutters, his breath fanning over your face. 

A whimper leaves you when his hand wraps around your neck, pushing you impossibly further against the door. Soft lips brush against your ear as he leans into you. The heat radiating off your body, the sweet scent of your floral perfume, was suffocating him just as his hand was undoing onto you. 

“Little bunny got herself caught in a trap, huh?” Wonwoo snickers, his bulge brushing against your stomach. 

You stood there in silence, eyes rolling back when his fingers would give small squeezes to the sides of your neck. He could sniff the desperation on you, just the way he liked you. Begging for his attention. 

“W—Wonwoo… please. I feel so warm, and it hurts,” you whine softly. God, he practically revolted at the sound of your voice. 

“Oh? You’re hurting?” The deep timbre in his voice causes your knees to buckle. 

A singular nod is all you can do to answer back.  Before he could think, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, keeping you from fawning onto the floor. Smaller fingers wrap around his biceps, nails digging into his skin. He didn’t mind it at all; if anything, it invigorated him. 

“C’mon baby, let's get you on the bed,” he mutters. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as he grabs your ass under your skirt, palming the fat there as he lifts you into his arms. Wonwoo grunts against your ear, unable to resist squeezing you and spreading your asscheeks in his palms. 

“You’re heating up like crazy. What the fuck did you take at that party?” He whispers in your ear. 

The palms of your hands curl into his shirt, pushing your chest against his as you moan in his ear. It was hard to focus when the sensations of his groping were getting to your head. 

“Mingyu gave me a drink… it was after you left. I had a sip, then I started feeling dizzy and so hot. I didn’t mean to come here. I'm sorry. I didn’t want to stay there… and you’re just across the street.” 

Your spiel on what had happened after Wonwoo went home urged him to grip your ass harder. Despite your state, he doesn’t leave room for pleasantries, throwing you onto the bed. Leave it up to an ass like Mingyu to slip you an aphrodisiac. 

“First of all, you’re an idiot for drinking anything from Mingyu. Should’ve known not to go and play around. Now look at you. Begging me to help you.” 

Wonwoo grunts again, shoving your panties to the side, revelling in the way the damp fabric soaks the pads of his fingers. You were sopping wet, just how he liked you. His thumb slides between your slick folds, the sounds of your arousal music to his ears. 

“Mnghh… Wonwoo, please.” You plead with him, hips bucking off the mattress, skirt hiked up around your waist. “Take it off. It's sticky, and it’s bothering me.” 

The sound of your moans fuels the fire within him, his hands tugging your skirt and panties in one go. You were already peeling off your tank top, leaving your body bare for him to play with as he pleases. 

A second barely passes, your fingers curling around the collar of his shirt to pull him into a kiss. Wonwoo almost forgot the softness of your lips, plump, wet, and always wanting him. His tongue slips past to tangle with yours. The palms of his hands glide down your soft thighs, squeezing them before wrapping around his waist. Plush cotton from his sweatpants brushes against your pussy, staining them with a dark patch of sticky arousal.

“Fuck, what a desperate thing you are.” Wonwoo groans against your lips, hands running up your thighs to your ass. He squeezes it appreciatively before flipping you abruptly onto your stomach. 

Hips in the air, you cant your ass back and forth, head turned over your shoulder to entice him further. He could barely recognize your guise. Wonwoo’s never seen you look so conscientious of your desires. A part of him was completely irate, yet the other was yearning to be inside you again. 

A sharp spank echoes in his room, his handprint burnt into the soft skin of your ass. The look of your pussy from behind almost had him drooling, spitting onto the hot and slick skin to show you how much more dominant he can be. 

“Wonwoo, I wanna get fucked so bad. Haven’t had your cock in so long.” You mewled. 

Wonwoo spanks you again in retaliation. His palms grab your ass cheeks to spread them apart, inspecting both of your tight little holes. All for him. Like you even had a choice, he thinks as he smirks to himself while you're too busy moaning into his pillow. 

“Never seen you so needy before. Whatever Mingyu gave you was strong.” Wonwoo gripes, spanking you till your ass was burning from his touch. 

He can see how impatient you're getting, pushing your ass back onto him in an attempt to get him to fuck you. Whatever self-control he had at the beginning of the meeting with you has been thrown out the window. Now, he can’t go a day without recalling how deliciously tight you always feel around him. 

There’s a moment where you relax, hearing him shuffle behind you as he slips his clothes off. Your eyes travel back over your shoulder again as Wonwoo towers over your shivering body.

“Gonna fuck me now…?” You ask, pouting as his hand comes back to your hips, adjusting the angle of your body. 

Wonwoo nods. There’s no tenderness to his touch, nor in the look in his eyes. He’s fueled by pure lust and hunger as the tip of his dick slides between your ass cheeks. From your puckered rim to your searing hot slit. He teases you by repeating those motions, drawing whiny moans from your lips while he plays with you. 

“Mhm, gonna fuck you real good, baby,” Wonwoo mutters. 

Niceties were never a part of his personality, his cock bottoming out in one go as he slid himself into your wet cunt. Both of you moan at the same time, your back arching as Wonwoo snaps his hips forward. 

“Ahh— please.” You beg relentlessly. 

Wonwoo’s hand forces your face into the pillow as he continues to pound your sweet pussy just like you had begged for. Skin slaps against skin, his eyes zeroed in on the way your walls stretch to accommodate his girth. Your ass jiggling every time his hips press against you. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the pride blooms in his chest when he sees how easily you submit. 

“Shit, you’re always so fucking tight.” He murmurs, slapping your ass again just to see the fat of your cheeks ripple. 

The grip in your hair finally relents, manoeuvring your body in the perfect position to watch you ride him. The naivety in your eyes is clouded by the arousal that overwhelms every inch of your skin, the drugs seeping into your mind. 

“You’re gonna ride my dick. Show me how good you can be.” Wonwoo demands. 

The tone of his voice urges you further; not wanting to disappoint him, you begin to bounce on his lap. 

“Just like that. Knew you had it in you.” Wonwoo praises you. The rarity of his compliments goads you into bouncing on him faster. 

In an attempt to find your rhythm, your fingers dig into his broad shoulders, grounding yourself as he stretches you out at a new angle. Wonwoo can feel how deep you’re taking him, his head falling back against the headboard as his eyes flit from your bouncing tits to the sheer pleasure painted all over your face. 

“God, your pussy is so fucking sloppy from my dick.” He grunts, noticing how your juices are tainting his thighs. 

“Just wanna bounce on your cock like a good girl.” You moan, speeding up. 

On the crest of your own orgasm, you try to get Wonwoo to cum inside you. Before you could even think of milking him into creaming your wet pussy, he pushes your back onto the mattress. As he climbs on top of you, he can't help but chuckle, observing the lewd expression on your face. You were drunk on his cock, which is exactly how he wanted you to be. Begging for him to fill you. 

Wonwoo doesn’t give you the satisfaction you crave, pulling out of your tight hole with a wet pop. Knees bracket you in as he jerks himself off while you pout under him. He’ll let you cum when he feels like it, but it won’t be tonight. For now, he’s more concerned with feeding his ego. Splatters of his white seed cover your tits moments later. 

“Get out before I come back from my shower.” He mutters, stalking off to his washroom. 

Left on the mattress to fend for yourself, you quickly wipe yourself off with a discarded shirt on the floor. By the time Wonwoo returns, you’re gone. What doesn’t seem to leave with you is that sharp stab in his gut. 

Only God can know what happens here. 

note: sorry this took so long! you can all thank @vapidlynn for this cuz she sent me inspo off twt lol ٩(｡•́‿•̀｡)۶. no special colours cuz im too lazy to go thru the html editor hehe.

[peachglazed]

this was so worth the wait 🥺 i love a morally bankrupt character so much🩷☹️🫧

[milk-moonbunnies]

Playing House [Seokmin x reader]

synopsis: Going raw for the first time? DK doesn't stand a chance.

requested: AMANI IM BEGGING for breeding kink with any member of seventeen.

warnings: mdni, 18+, pwp, dubcon, unprotected, dirty talk, mating press, dk is down bad, so are you, dk big, dk strong, pussdrunk, multiple orgasm, threats/promises of impreg, breeding kink unlocked, dk crashes out, he talks you through it? yeah?, little descriptions of the idea of the reader being preg, etc.

wc: 1.2k+

[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE 'KEEP READING' TAG]

Lee Seokmin doesn't know he has a breeding kink until he pushes his cock inside you, raw, for the first time.

He visibly shudders, squeezing his eyes shut as he fails to take a full breath after. You're so warm, so wet, and taking all of him so deep inside that his mouth actually waters. And when he blinks his eyes open, it only gets worse for him. Harder, maybe would be the better word. His cock twitches, rubbing against your gummy walls, and your mouth parts in awe as he looks down at you.

You're so pretty underneath him.

You're lying on your back, staring up at him with glossy lips and starry eyes, and fuck, your walls are gripping him so tightly he doesn't want to leave.

But then you start squirming, giving him the signal to start moving, and he does. He would do anything for you - and you gasp just as much as you did when he bullied his way inside as you do when he pushes his hips back. He slides back until the tip of his thick cock remains inside your drooling cunt before he surges forward. The bed creaks, your pretty tits bounce, and the mushroom-shaped head of his cock kisses your cervix in greeting, making both of you groan in unison.

It's like a flip is switched for Dokyeom. His vision whitens, his cock twitches, splurting a few gooey wads of precum along your cervix, and he can only think about cumming inside. Filling you to the brim with his seed until you're round and it sticks. The image of you, a mess, dripping with him, makes a deep groan slip from the back of his throat, and he's hitching your leg higher onto his hip to press even deeper into your weeping cunt.

The pretty noises you make rise in pitch when he does, and Seokmin's lips curve up into a lovesick grin. "So pretty, you're so pretty." His thrusts grow in strength, just like his grip on your hips does. He jostles you, pulling you back every time his hips push you up on the bed, and his tongue licks his lips with a newfound hunger for more.

Sweat begins to line his forehead, the muscles in his back straining as he gives, and gives, and gives. You're making it harder for him to leave your pretty pussy, soaking him with your sweet slick as you chant his name like a prayer. Your nails claw into the bedsheet underneath you, trying to grip onto anything, something, until they dig into his back as he brings you closer to the edge.

Your stomach flexes, your thighs twitching with a pleasurable hum, and Dokyeom can't look away from where he's connected to you. Your sweet pussy is slobbering all over his cock, coating it in a shiny sheen that makes each thrust slippier, and effectively makes DK more pussydrunk after each snap of his hips. "You're makin' it harder for me to leave, Baby." He confesses with a gasp, his pupils blown, and his jaw clenching as you whimper back in response.

The familiar heat swirls low in your abdomen, the telltale sign that you're going to cum, and it's got Dokyeom sliding his hands down from your hips and under your thighs, pushing your plush legs up until your knees bend. This position makes your mouth drop, your tongue lewdly sticking out as the mating press keeps you trapped under his strong arms. The position is squeezing the air from your lungs as he carves a deeper path inside you, his cock dragging over all the sweet spots inside your sopping cunt like you were truly made just for him.

And maybe you are. Because the idea of you just like this, dumb on his cock, can only get better if he gets you pregnant. The way your body would change, your tummy soft and round, and your pretty tits full as he makes you feel so good - the idea of you glowing and carrying his child - fuck, his eyes roll and you're falling apart underneath him with a wail.

Your pussy pulses around his shaft, trying to milk him, and it's the cause of the final thread of his sanity snapping. His teeth grit, his fingers dig into the fat of your thighs as he fucks you through your orgasm, his hips pounding you into the mattress with one goal in mind. "Fuck, you're so perfect - I'm gonna cum inside your pretty pussy, okay? Need you to take - fuck - need you to take it all, okay?"

His eyes swirl, and the filthy squelches of your pussy taking his cock to the hilt resonate louder in the room as his words begin to slur.

"So good for me, you're gonna be so good for me." He huffs, and your pussy flutters at the praise, your orgasm subsiding only to be brought back up as he blabbers, drunk off the idea that he's going to breed you. "M'gonna cum and stuff you full of my seed, Baby. And then I'm gonna do it again, and again - you'll let me, right? Let me breed your sweet pussy until it takes." Your pussy squeezes him tighter, and a baffled, delirious laugh bubbles from his lips, his smile growing more lovesick as he slips a hand down your stomach and to where you two were connected between your thighs.

Your orgasm had made it wet and sticky, your sweet slick dripping down to his balls as he fucked you with determination. He finds your puffy clit with ease and begins thumbing your little nub to get you over the edge again. His thrusts were growing erratic, and he wanted you to cum one more time before he did.

"That's it, Baby. Need you to cum one more time for me, okay? M'gonna have you nice n' wet for when I cum inside."

And just like he wants, you cum, crying out so beautifully as your eyes roll back because of him. He coos happily, rubbing sloppy hearts into your clit and giving you praise until it is his turn to shiver in ecstasy.

When he cums, he cums a lot. Rope after rope of his gooey seed spills from his thick tip, and your pussy flutters in waves as he paints your gummy walls white with a low groan from his chest. His head drops as he feels his cock jerk, and his eyelashes flutter as he presses his hips flush against your ass, making sure not to waste a drop of his seed as he keeps you in a dirty mating press.

It feels like forever when he finally moves a couple of inches from your drooling cunt. Your puffy folds are swollen, gripping onto his cock even in the aftershocks, and Dokyeom can see his cum threatening to escape - so he pushes forward, earning another sweet moan from you. "Can't let it go to waste, Baby." He licks his lips and spreads your legs wider, giving you shallow thrusts as he fucks his cum back in deeper. "Think I need to fuck you again, gotta make sure it takes, mamas."

Any response you might have for him gets silenced when your glossy eyes blink up at him, only to see him still focusing on your pretty pussy stretched around his cock. It's then that you realize he's still hard, sliding in and out at a delicious slow rate that makes you feel everything. Every vein running down his shaft, every kiss his tip gives your soft cervix, and the slosh of his cum stirring inside you.

"Yeah, this pussy just needs to be bred, Baby. Tell me, do you want a boy or a girl?"

대박 - you made it to the end!

Tell me about it. (Silent Readers kill)

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[peachglazed]

i’ll never ever be able to properly articulate just how feral your dk fics make me feel, like??? I feel shaky just typing this😭😭 when you write him all subby, whiny, and just the perfect man? i can actually feel my brain chemistry altering… ngl you’re the sole reason seokmin is my svt ult bias…. actually your power is insane 😭😭😭🙂‍↕️🫶🏽

[frontmansdefender]

I wish every ad that takes you to app store or any site as soon as your finger accidentally touches it a very. bankrupt and die

[moveslikekeithrichards]

nsfw = nosfewatu

[tetsur0-1]

How i be reading smut wth a straight face in bed

[milk-moonbunnies]

And They Were Roommates [perv! Hoshi x reader]

Synopsis: cont. of perv! hoshi here

[requested]

Warnings: mdni, 18+, hints at dried cum, reader is unaware, perv! Hoshi, best friend! Hoshi, roommate! hoshi, hoshi down bad, tons of masturbation (m rec), pantie thief! Hoshi, Hoshi lies, the reader finds out, etc.

wc: 1.6k+

[BE VERY AWARE, SMUT BELOW THE ‘KEEP READING’ TAG]

When you wake up, it's from Hoshi shutting the front door. Your eyebrows furrow as you squint, trying to collect all of your thoughts as you shift on the couch, waking up from your nap disoriented.

How long have you been asleep? When did you even fall asleep?

You remember coming home before your roommate did, happy to be sent home early from work. You remember dropping your keys in the bowl on your kitchen counter and taking advantage of being alone in the apartment for once by kicking your pants off, and walking around in just your small top and panties. You remember lounging on the couch, contemplating between scrolling on your phone or watching a movie, and then nothing else.

You see, it was difficult sharing an apartment with the opposite sex. You couldn't just walk around naked, or pant-less, in fear that Soonyoung could be home any minute. Shared spaces, you believed, were supposed to be respected - comfortable, where Soonyoung shouldn't have to worry about you if he wanted to bring someone over.

Not that he ever did.

But you couldn't say the same for Hoshi. He never had an issue with the partial nudity; there had been many times he'd come home from a workout, sweaty and shirtless, his basketball shorts hanging low on his toned hips as he drank from a water bottle in the kitchen. He acted like it was normal, flashing you a grin as he wiped his mouth, tilting his head at you while your eyes widened at the sight of him.

And that's why you're confused now.

When did Soonyoung come home? You had thought he wasn't off till five pm. What time is it?

Your lips curve down into a frown, and your hands move up to your chest, instinctively making sure your top wasn't twisted as you watched Soonyoung set the delivery of food onto the kitchen counter. He seemed happy, amused even, more amused than usual, and that was never a good thing.

"Hey-" You start to call out to your friend, but stop abruptly when you realize you're still in just your panties and t-shirt. Your legs are bare, your lacey panties in view, and your face flushes as you quickly sit up. Your hands go to your stomach, out of habit, to try and cover yourself, and your fingers feel something dry and flaky. "What the-" you're only more confused now when you look down.

You don't know what it is, but there are a few blob-shaped stains dried on your stomach, and you aren't sure how they got there. You don't remember spilling anything or eating anything.

"Finally awake, huh?" Soonyoung calls, and your head snaps up to look at him. You notice he's leaning on the kitchen counter, his eyes on your hand still touching your stomach, and you are too far away to notice the glimmer in his eyes swirl with a little darkness in them.

"Oh, uh, yeah..how long was I out? When did you come home?" You furrow your eyebrows in confusion.

"Just now," Hoshi gives you an innocent smile, his hands holding the takeout bags like an offering. "I brought food."

Soonyoung never admits to what he had done while you were asleep, lying about coming home recently instead of hours ago. And you don't tell him about waking up to weird stuff on your skin. Instead, you nod and rush to your bedroom to shower and change into something more appropriate.

And it's like nothing ever happened. You still drag your dirty clothes to the washer in your laundry room before going to Hoshi in the kitchen to eat dinner, you still debrief the work day with each other, and Soonyoung still attentively listens as you yap about how happy you were when you were told you could cut your work day early and sneak in a midday nap.

You don't notice the change in Soonyoung. You don't realize his eyes track your lips as you talk like he's imagining them on his lips, or that his eyes keep flickering down to your chest when you talk with your hands, too busy talking to him about something you're clearly passionate about, while he licks his lips like he was hungry for something other than the chinese takeout he bought.

And you're none the wiser when two hours later, he's lying on his back in his bed, his fist wrapped around his cock as he recalls cumming on you hours earlier. He wonders if you knew what it was on your skin when you woke up. If you realized that it was he who was depraved and perverted enough to do that while you slept.

He has to cum twice on his hand before his cock becomes sensitive enough not to stand up rock hard. It makes him groan lowly at the fact, and the image of you haunts him every time he closes his eyes, making it very difficult for him not to go into your room and confess.

Would you let him touch you while you were awake? Would you let him cum on you? If you did, he would make you watch as he stroked his cock over your pretty tits or sweet pussy, and he would tell you how he's been wanting to do this since you two became roommates, but only if you let him.

His cock swells again, and the blood rushing south makes him lightheaded, so he actually curses out loud and stumbles into the bathroom to take a cold shower. A very cold shower.

After that, that's when strange things start to happen.

Soonyoung starts spacing out a lot more than usual when you talk to him, his eyes glazing over a little as he politely folds his hands over his lap while you talk his ear off. Plus, he takes a lot more showers, which is great, but he was already a pretty clean person as is. With the amount he takes now, you might call an intervention if it continues the way it seems to be.

And then to top it all off, your panties started going missing. But that isn't Hoshi (it is), but you're still weirded out by it. Even your ugly panties, which were specifically for your special time during the month, seem sparse or few in between.

You blame it on your laundry machine. Stupid machine probably eats your clothes, and you'll have to ask Soonyoung to send a maintenance request if it keeps up. Panties are expensive, and you can't afford to keep buying new ones if they keep disappearing.

It never occurs to you that it might be your friend and roommate, Hoshi. But that all changed when a month later, your work was slow enough to allow you to leave early again. You were more than happy to go home, knowing Soonyoung wasn't scheduled for work today. You figured you could see if he wanted to go grab dinner, or the smart choice would be going to the grocery store, so you could make him carry the heavy stuff while you both restocked the shared apartment with the necessities.

And you were finalizing that plan in your head, kicking your shoes off with a beaming grin as you practically skipped over to his room after entering your apartment. You were halfway ready to grab the doorknob to his bedroom when you realized his door was already cracked open a bit.

And then you froze.

Your eyes widen as you process what you are seeing, your mouth dropping open in surprise as you stare transfixed.

Soonyoung lies on his back, completely naked, covering his mouth and nose with some kind of fabric as his other hand strokes his cock deliriously. You could see the veins running down his forearms, his thighs twitching as he groaned loudly into the fabric he was huffing. Your thighs clenched from his groans, but also from the sight of his cock pulsing hard and flaring red at the tip. He was coating his cock in heavy amounts of precum, making the strokes slippery wet and his fingers sticky.

Fuck, you didn't realize how hot it was to watch.

His hips seemed to buck into his hand mindlessly, his eyes rolling back as he bunched the fabric to his nose some more. And it was then that you realized the color of the fabric was familiar, and your eyes widened even more.

He was sniffing your panties!

Specifically, the panties you had on yesterday! You had thrown them in your dirty laundry bin last night before taking a shower to get ready for bed - it was one of the new pairs you had bought a week ago, since your previous ones seemed to disappear at an alarming rate.

But now you knew why.

You watched as he took another huff, a whimper slipping from his lips before he brought the panties to his cock. He wrapped them tightly around his base as he pumped his length faster. Another whimper fell from his lips, and he followed up by calling out your name with a broken gasp. Your heart lurched, your eyes snapping back up to his face to see that his eyes were squeezed shut - he wasn't even aware you were home yet.

He blabbered a few broken sentences, his words slurring as you made out your name and "pretty" a few times before his entire body shuddered, his cock jerking before spilling gooey white wads of cum all over your panties as he gasped for air.

And you didn't even think - your mind whirling with everything you witnessed as you shoved the door open, surprising a post-orgasm Hoshi. He could barely blink his bleary eyes at you, barely processing that you were in his room when you pointed at him. "You pervert!"

대박 - you made it to the end!

Tell me about it.

Personally, I had fun writing this lol

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[peachglazed]

I can’t even conceptualize how fucking obsessed I am with perverted hoshi, and YOUR characterization of THIS HOSHI!? 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷 I wish I could kiss your brain srsly 🥺

[milk-moonbunnies]

Boo Seungkwan 🍊

[radicalgraff]

"Fuck USrael"

Seen in Santiago, Chile

[radicalgraff]

"Our neighbor was kidnapped here"

Stencil seen in Chicago

[worldscoolest]

[xingifs]

S.COUPS x DK🩷🖤

[coupsnim]

MAYHEM x SEVENTEEN ↳ dokyeom ~ blade of grass

[kosmogrl]

[milk-moonbunnies]

Sweet & Savory [Jungkook x reader]

Synopsis:  Jungkook acts all tough and cool, but as soon as he is around you, he gets all shy and flustered.

Warnings: mdni, 18+, tattoo artist! Jungkook, baker! reader, tattoo artist! Yoongi, tattoo artist! Taehyung, tattoo studio owner! Jin, baker! Jimin, cashier! Namjoon, bad boy aesthetic! Jungkook, Jungkook down bad, cute fluff, etc.

wc: 3.1k +

The first time Jungkook sees you, he takes a double-take.

He was walking down the crowded sidewalk with a confident stride, swarms of people parting for him like the Red Sea as he headed to work. His tattoos were on full display, the spring day warm enough for him to wear a graphic muscle t-shirt he had cut up months ago. His dark jeans sat a little low on his toned hips, held up by a metal chain, and even more chains hung from his belt loops, clinking together as he moved down the street.

It was ten a.m., and the city buzzed with life. Construction workers were yelling at each other over scaffolding, taxi drivers were honking for other cars to move, and messenger bikes zoomed between the cars stuck in traffic. It was loud, fast-paced, and never-ending. The city that didn’t sleep. And Jungkook was in the middle of it all.

As a tattoo artist, he set his own schedule, rolling out of bed with chipped black nail polish and tousled hair. His fingers were adorned with multiple rings, and his chunky black shoes were giving his already tall height even more of a towering grace.

He was still half asleep as he turned the corner on Mikrokosmos street; his only goal was to make it to the studio in time before Jin gave him another scolding for “professionalism” and “time management.” He had been late too many times, leaving their receptionist to set up his station as he strolled in ten minutes before his first client of the day.

Jungkook flexed his fingers, tapping an unknown beat into the side of his pants as he kept walking. He needed to go two more blocks, and he would be at his home away from home, the studio he worked at, Arirang. But just as the thought had passed, his nose twitched, the aroma of fresh-brewed coffee filtering the air and making his head turn.

Across the street, just on the corner, he could see a cafe. The cafe seemed out of place, surrounded by big skyscrapers, nestled with outdoor seating for anyone wanting to enjoy the nice weather outside. Jungkook could see a few businessmen sitting at one of the free tables, coffee cups in between them as they both read the newspaper. From where Jungkook stood, the cafe was cute. The cursive neon yellow sign behind the window read ‘Sweet & Savory.’ And Jungkook knew that it was the cafe that had the sweet aroma coming from it.

Before he could think twice, he quickly whipped his head right and then left before crossing the street to get a better view. He was already wondering if they had warmed butter croissants when he heard a chirp next to him. “Welcome! Would you like to try our white chocolate cherry brownie bar?”

Jungkook is ready to give the person who greeted him a deadpan look when he catches the way your eyes shine. He could practically see little stars in them, and it made him come to a complete stop. You look up at him, hopeful, a soft smile on your face as you hold a tray lined with little paper cups. Inside the little sample cups is a brownie square no bigger than two of his fingers, with a white and red swirl mixed in. 

And Jungkook doesn’t know why, but his heart squeezes in his chest so hard, his mouth drops open, dumbfounded. “What?” His eyes are trying to take in everything about you. He watches your glossy lips curve up even more somehow as you repeat yourself, offering him a free brownie sample right outside the front door of the cafe.

You’re wearing a brown apron, tied tightly around your waist, your hair pulled up and away from your face to show the soft blush on your cheeks. Jungkook blinks, and then blinks again, his brain running on overdrive.

You’re so cute, he’s stunned. And without thinking, he just snatches three and pops them in his mouth with a muffled, “Thanks.” His response was slightly flustered before he slipped into the cafe out of sheer panic. The brownie is fantastic; he didn’t even know he liked cherries with chocolate, but now he does.

And while he was in the cafe, he decided he should buy coffee too, you were right outside the door, and he’d have to pass you again. He wasn’t going to be weird and do it empty-handed.

When he leaves the cafe ten minutes later, he’s got four coffees and three pastries, including a white chocolate and cherry brownie just for himself. And you’re still outside, greeting each person walking by while holding the tray in both hands.

His face is flushed when you turn to him as he slips from the front door. Your eyes flash from his face, his ears a light pink, to the drink holder he holds with all his coffees. Your smile dips for one second in thought before you’re hitting him with another dazzling smile. “Did you like the brownie?” You ask, and Jungkook has to look away, or he might do something embarrassing.

But then he does something embarrassing, stuttering like a fool as he clears his throat. “Yeah, uh, for me- I got one for me.”

If the ground could swallow him up, now would be the time.

“Oh, yay! I was one of the bakers who made them! I’m happy you like them!” Jungkook’s heart thumps and then twists, and he blacks out.

-

“Coffee? You got us coffee?” Yoongi lifts his head up from his iPad, halfway through sketching the sickest traditional dragon for someone’s leg on his tablet. The older man tucks a fallen strand of his hair behind his ear, his eyes dilating onto the four coffees in Jungkook’s hands with curious eyes.

Jungkook feels a little dazed; he isn’t sure how he made it to work, to be honest. One moment, you were giving him a lovely smile, and the next he was standing before Yoongi feeling lost.

“I don’t drink coffee,” Taehyung pipes up from his station, his foot resting on his thigh as he twirls his iPad pen between his fingers nonchalantly. 

“Yeah, I know. I got you a blueberry muffin.” Jungkook’s answer is satisfying for the artist. Taehyung stands up, his loafer-covered feet bringing him closer to Jungkook as he grins like a cat who got milk.

“You know me so well,” Taehyung hums and takes the little folded brown bag from on top of the coffee. Taehyung goes as far as to kiss Jungkook on the cheek before going back to his station pleased with himself.

Jungkook blinks down at the other brown bag in his hands, clutched tightly under his fingers as he continues to balance four coffees. He can feel the weight of the brownie, and he can feel a heat crawl up his neck, dusting his cheeks in a light pink as he thinks about you standing outside.

Yoongi seems to quietly appear out of nowhere, gently grabbing a hot latte with a low hum of approval. “Did you see something you liked on your way here, or did you just run to give us this?”

Yoongi’s voice is soft, but his lips twitch into an amused grin that makes Jungkook internally groan. But luckily, Jungkook is saved when Hoseok comes in while clapping his hands excitedly.

“I smell coffee!”

-

The second time Jungkook sees you, you’re not outside handing out samples. Instead, you’re restocking the pastries after the lunch rush, your smile bright as you chit-chat with your co-worker.

Hoseok had begged Jungkook to tell him where he had gotten the strawberry cream croissant that he had given the older man. And after much persistence on Hobi’s behalf, Jungkook had finally caved in, telling Hobi he’d take him there before work on Friday. And no, he didn’t cave because he wanted to see you again.

But the moment he steps inside the cute cafe,  his eyes betray him. His head does a slow turn, scanning through the people to find the friendly face he had seen only two weeks before. Jungkook could barely hear Hobi yapping his ear off when he finally saw you. 

You’re in the same uniform. Hair up, brown apron tied tightly at the waist, your eyes sparkling as all the employees yell a happy greeting when the two men walk in. He catches your eyes briefly, his cheeks flushing a red color as he quickly turns to Hobi, who was mid-sentence about something involving his latest client, and panics. “Maybe we should go?”

Hobi’s face scrunches up in confusion, cut off, and raises an eyebrow at the younger one. “No. We just got here? I want my croissant.”

“I can buy you a croissant at StarBros!”

“Welcome back!” You chirp, smiling brightly at Jungkook over the glass case holding all the baked goods. Your eyes are only on him as both Hobi and Jungkook look at you, and Jungkook sees your coworker giggle. The name tag reads Jimin, and Jungkook feels his face burn brighter.

Hobi sees this all unfold quietly, both of his eyebrows raising now as he sees Jungkook freeze. It was unlike Jungkook; he was always cool and confident, and nothing ever really bothered him. And it makes Hobi's eyes glitter as realization dawns on him, “Oh.”

It’s said so softly that anyone would miss it, but not Jungkook, his fingers curl into his palm, his fists hanging at his sides as Hobi fails to hide his amusement for the younger man. “H-hi.”

Jungkook fucking stutters, and Hobi is close to speed dialing the shop if it wasn’t for Jungkook gripping his wrist with inhuman strength.

You, on the other hand, don’t stop smiling, your body leaning closer to Jungkook as you speak up. “Hi! We don’t have the brownies anymore; they were only being made for that week you got them.” You go on this little tangent, words spilling out fast as you tell them that promotions are always going on, and things change, and etcetera. The whole time you speak, Jungkook hangs onto every word like he might get a quiz later on it, his hand crushing Hobi’s wrist as you finally finish with a beaming smile.

In ten minutes, Jungkook and Hobi leave the cafe. Hobi has the strawberry cream croissant, Jungkook holds a pastry you personally suggested, like it’s treasure, and Hobi waits only for them to round the corner when he bursts out laughing.

Jungkook glares, his lips curving downward as his ears burn red at Hoseok’s teasing. He goes as far as rolling his eyes as Hobi laughs with his whole body, slapping Jungkook on the arm.

“Whatever,” he grumbles, stalking down the road to the studio, holding his pastry and listening to Hoseok trail after him, wheezing.

When Jungkook takes a bite of his pastry, a little while later, his eyes roll back from the sweet and decadent taste, his eyes closing as he pictures you.

-

Jungkook is being followed, and it makes his shoulders tense.

It was a slow day in the studio, with only a few clients that were spaced out, leaving him a little break time around noon. And it was the perfect time, in Jungkook’s opinion, to get a little pick-me-up. The idea of an iced americano or maybe a frappe with something savory was the final decision on him leaving his work real quick to head to his new favorite bakery.

He had been there a few times now after the Hobi incident, always alone, because Jungkook had learned from his mistakes. But the times he went, you happened to be off that day, or in the back prepping, and leaving Jungkook just a few glimpses of you before he left with a little pout.

This time, his hopes are high. He’s pretty sure he can redeem himself and not stutter. He refuses to die out of embarrassment. And his walk carries his confidence as he wears a fitted black t-shirt tucked into jeans with his beat-up Converse. It’s a nice day to ride his motorcycle, and it’s what he’s thinking about when he hears a familiar footstep slightly behind him.

He had been hearing it for the last block, and he was finally at his wits end, stopping completely. When he stopped, whoever was behind him stopped, and Jungkook’s eyes squeezed shut. “I swear to-“ Jungkook lets out a breath and turns around to meet Taehyung's lazy grin.

“Hey.”

“Why are you following me?” Jungkook ignores the older man’s greeting, his eyebrows furrowing as Taehyung’s grin never falters. “What do you want?”

Taehyung shoves his hands in the front pockets of his pants, all relaxed and getting onto Jungkook’s nerves as he shrugs. “That blueberry muffin you gave me was good.”

Jungkook feels as if he rolls his eyes any harder, they will get stuck, so instead, he sighs. “I’ll get you one on my way back,” Jungkook negotiates, and Taehyung doesn’t take the bait.

“No.”

Seven minutes later, Taehyung is standing next to Jungkook as he looks at all the different pastries sitting in the glass case. Jungkook’s ears burn with a soft blush, his plans unraveling as you greet them.

When you saw Jungkook, you immediately walked over to help them and let Jimin take over in training the new hire. “Jimin,” it was the first time Jungkook heard you sound so serious. “Namjoon is not allowed in the kitchen, just ‘front of house’.”

Jimin salutes jokingly, Namjoon sheepishly smiles, and the two men man the register as you turn your attention to Taehyung and Jungkook. “How can I help you guys?”

Taehyung hums and immediately gets down to business, “I would die for a blueberry muffin and that raspberry lemon bar you have on the left.” Jungkook can’t help but watch as you nod your head eagerly, getting to work to grab whatever Taehyung wants before you finally give Jungkook all of your attention.

“And for you?” Jungkook’s heart can’t handle the smile you give him. His heart starts thumping, trying to escape his chest, as you look up at him with soft eyes. “Do you want to have something in particular, or are we still going off on whatever I suggest?” You hum, and he can hear the amusement loud and clear.

For a moment, Jungkook thinks maybe you're flirting with him, and the thought alone has Jungkook’s heart twisting.

He blacks out and only comes to when Taehyung smacks his shoulder as they walk back to the studio. Somehow, they are only a block away, and he doesn’t even know what happened.

But Taehyung does, and he’s squeezing his shoulder with a look that makes Jungkook flustered. “Dude,” Taehyung is so sincere as he talks to Jungkook; it just makes it even more embarrassing for Jungkook. “It’s like you never spoken to a woman before.”

“Fuck.” Jungkook would fall to his knees, but he swears he’s not that pathetic and instead, eats his emotions by stuffing whatever pastry he ended up buying in his mouth. It doesn’t help that it’s the best-tasting thing he’s had all day. And his brain slips up as he briefly wonders what you’d taste like before Taehyung comes in with another round of teasing.

“No, like I was trying to get Jimin’s number because we were born the same year, and I couldn’t because you were like a car accident. I couldn’t look away.”

-

By this point, everyone in the studio knows about  Jungkook’s crush. Too many people had witnessed the tough and confident Jungkook change into a shy and flustered mess because of you, and it was amusing to no end.

Jin would tease Jungkook, threatening to bring his crush here if Jungkook continued to get on his nerves - all lovingly - but it still brought a blush onto Jungkook’s face regardless.

He hadn’t stopped by the cafe for a little over a week now, just busy with clients as the weather warmed up to the summer. He still would turn his head to look, though, when he walked to work, trying to see if he could see you from across the street.

He honestly felt a little shy to say he wished he could find the time to see you, to try again, but by the time he was free, your shift would probably be over.

That’s why, as he quietly sketched at his station on a Saturday morning, he doesn’t expect to see you.

It’s 11 am, and surprisingly, all the artists are in between clients, catching up on emails or working for their next client when the door rings open.

Jungkook hears his receptionist greet whoever comes in, and he doesn’t bother to look up. His eyebrows are furrowing in concentration, his tongue playing with his lip piercing mindlessly as he briefly hears their receptionist speak up. “Oh! For us?”

Jungkook’s head lifts, and his jaw drops a little as he watches you hand coffees over to the receptionist, your face flushed. Jimin is right next to you, beyond amused by the whole thing as he holds pastries.

“Is there a muffin for me?” Taehyung exclaims and literally hops over to the blonde man as the whole studio looks on.

“I uh,” Jungkook is surprised, but even more so when you stutter and walk to his station a little nervously. It makes him sit up straighter, his eyes rounding as you give him a shy smile. “I haven’t seen you around lately. Just checking in on you.”

You say it softly, and Jungkook’s heart soars, warming his entire body. He might have to take his leather jacket off. “Me?” He can’t look away from you, taking in your blush and sweet smile as his heart races. “I know, I’m sorry, gotta little busy with summer here.”

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, just as shy as you, when he hears Jimin huff. “Oh my god.”

“I know-“ Taehyung agrees, and Jungkook is about to tell them to fuck off when you speak up.

“Would you like to go out sometime?”

You look at him only, your eyes glittering as you smile at him, and he finds himself speechless momentarily. He nods, slowly at first, before finally finding his words. “Uh, yeah, how does Tuesday work for you?”

Jungkook watches your face light up, your head nodding as you tell him it sounds perfect.

Within ten minutes, you and Jimin leave, and within ten seconds after that, his studio cheers. “Fucking finally!” Taehyung exclaims while Hobi cackles.

Yoongi claps him on the back for a ‘good job.’ While Jin actually snorts, “Alright, took you long enough!”

Jungkook knows they all tease him with love, but he hears none of it. His eyes are on the cute little pastry inside the brown bag next to a coffee with your phone number on it. He reads the message with a dopey grin, the ‘call me?’ followed by a heart searing into his brain.

A/N: Wahhh, you made it to the end. Cute.

my bts mstrlst - svt mstrlst

[peachglazed]

this was the sweetest🩷🩷🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 i just love when jk is written so sweetly

[epelletart]

teabongs.com 𑣲 seventeen

SUMMARY: You were supposed to have a peaceful university life until an anonymous uni confessions blog appeared. You thought it was ridiculous and harmless. None of your business. That is, until your name showed up. Now you’re forced to get involved, expose whoever’s behind it, and burn a few bridges along the way—even if it means becoming the campus’s resident crazy bitch. PAIRINGS: mean girls! 95 liners x f.reader x various! svt GENRE: drama, comedy, mean girls au, smut WARNINGS: massive usage of cursing, suggestive contents, vulgar language, blackmailing, violence, unserious behaviour throughout the story, reader is a camgirl, biker!wonwoo, booseoksoon loud as usual, lowkey enemies to lovers but not really. A/N: this is so fun to write lmfao. rip regina george, yoon jeonghan would've loved you. some preview here, kinda love this chaotic unhinged concept.

‎ꫂ᭪݁ Preview

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

It was all because of that damn confession page. You didn’t know who the hell was running it, but it was obvious what their intention was—to pit people against each other.

You stared down the campus hallway, students swarming the space. Arguing. Bickering. What started as idle chatter had escalated into something louder, uglier—real conflict brewing in the open.

“It was you, wasn’t it?”

Seungkwan shoved your shoulder on purpose, his tone sharp, almost accusatory.  “You’re the one who told everyone I’m a two-faced bitch. You just can’t help yourself, can you?”

You frowned, confusion plastered across your face, letting out a faint, “What?”

You genuinely had no idea what he was talking about. If anything, you wanted answers just as badly. The chaos, the fighting—what the hell was going on?

He scoffed, lips curling into a mocking smile. “Don’t act innocent now. I know you’re the one spreading shit about people.”

From the way his jaw was clenched, it was obvious, he was upset. Distressed.

“Thanks a lot. Now everyone—including my friends—thinks I’m a snitch.” He threw his hands up, sighing before resting them on his hips. “Maybe what people say about you is true. A crazy bitch who only cares about herself. Selfish. Heartless.”

You didn’t like the bite in his voice. You definitely didn’t like being called that.

Still, your anger got the better of you. And honestly? He wasn’t innocent either.

“What do you even know about me?” You shoved his shoulder back, making him stagger. “You’re the one who started this shit. Calling me a maneater.”

That earned you another scoff. He shoved you back, stepping forward until you were practically chest to chest.

“Me?” He laughed dryly. “I didn’t. And instead of asking me, you decided to get back at me like this?” He leaned closer. “You’re funny. Maybe the rumors are true—maybe you really do keep boy toys around.”

That did it.

Your blood boiled. Even if it wasn’t true, the fact that he—of all people would say that to you made it worse.

Before you could jump him, Seokmin wedged himself between you, hands outstretched.

“Hey—hey! Stop. Both of you.” He held you apart, even though your glare stayed locked on Seungkwan’s. He glared back just as hard.

Seokmin was right. You were heated. It wasn’t either of you—someone else was pulling the strings. And now it wasn’t just personal anymore.

It was everyone’s problem. The whole damn campus.

Whoever was behind this knew exactly what they were doing. Breaking friendships. Stirring shit.

You sighed in frustration, turning away as you brushed your hair back. “Fine. But I’m not over him calling me that.”

That was when Soonyoung and Wonwoo approached, eyes scanning the chaos around them.

Soonyoung suddenly shoved his phone in front of you, the confession blog pulled up.

“Tell me which fucker wrote this about me,” he snapped, clearly pissed.

You squinted at the screen.

HOT TOPIC!! anon: Kwon S*******g is a drunkard lol. Always blabbering like an idiot, desperate to get laid. Is he a manwhore? ⤷ comment: ikr, can’t stand him ⤷ comment: so desperate for girls lol ⤷ comment: is he a virgin?ㅋㅋㅋㅋ ⤷ comment: can’t keep his dick in his pants ig ⤷ comment: same as his friend s*****n. Both freaks

Your stomach twisted. This wasn’t just insults, it was vicious.

And then you saw Seokmin’s name mentioned in another post. Worse than Soonyoung’s.

"STUDENT FROM FILM DEPARTMENT IS A F*CKB*Y BEHIND THE STAGE?" ⤷ comment: bright on stage, freak in bed ⤷ comment: heard he’s huge lol ⤷ comment: angel face, probably a liar

You didn’t read any further.

You lowered Soonyoung’s phone, glancing at Seokmin instead. His expression was unreadable, close to hurt, confused. You didn’t need him to say anything to know it got to him.

Soonyoung scoffed, letting out a bitter chuckle as he turned away.

“I don’t know who posted this shit,” he said, pointing at all of you, “but I’m starting to doubt every single one of you.”

“That’s not what we agreed on,” Wonwoo said calmly, trying to de-escalate. “We can figure this out toge—”

Soonyoung slapped his hand away. “Figure it out? Look around.” He gestured to the hallway, where students were already starting to throw hands. “Maybe I’m bitchless, but I’m not that desperate. Unless someone decided to make it a big deal and snitch.”

He paused.

“…Unless.”

His eyes landed on Seungkwan.

Seungkwan scoffed. “So now you’re pointing fingers at me? Sorry to disappoint—you’ve got the wrong person.”

“You’ve got a lot of friends,” Soonyoung shot back. “It wouldn’t be hard. You are two-faced anyway.”

That was enough.

Seungkwan grabbed his collar, shouting. Seokmin was gone—somewhere, clearly affected by what he read.

You stood frozen, torn between chasing Seokmin or dragging those two idiots apart. Thank God Wonwoo was there, even if both of them were a handful.

The hall descended into full chaos—yelling, shoving, fists flying.

Then two guys walked past. One of them slightly taller than you—spoke lazily to his friend.

“No, Johnny. I feel like the possibilities of all those possibilities being possible is just another possibility that can be possibly happen.”

…Possibility?

It clicked something in your mind. Someone wanted this. All the fighting, the drama, the fallout. And there was only one person smug enough to enjoy it.

You didn’t hesitate. You turned on your heel and went looking for him—hoping, for once, that you weren’t wrong.

────୨ৎ────

“You.”

“Me.” Jeonghan clicked his tongue, utterly relaxed, legs crossed as he lounged on the couch. His smile was calm—amused.

It had to be him. No one else would look this entertained while the campus burned down.

Seungcheol and Joshua weren’t around. That alone was suspicious, not that you cared at the moment.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” you said slowly, stopping a few steps away. “You started this. That website—it’s yours.”

His lips curled. You hated how casual he looked.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hah.

You almost laughed. This was his favorite game—pretending, twisting things into sick mind games. There was something deeply wrong with the way he enjoyed watching people unravel.

Everything about him felt wrong. He’d rubbed you the wrong way from the start. The moment you met him, you knew it. You knew he was trouble the second he walked in.

He finally stood, moving closer with dangerously calm steps. The movement alone was enough to make your shoulders tense. He stopped in front of you—too close to be comfortable, close enough that you could smell his cologne, faint and clean, completely wrong for someone like him.

Jeonghan held your gaze, unblinking. His eyes drifted slowly over your face, down to your lips, before flicking back up.

You hated how attractive he looked like this.

Cocky bastard.

The room suddenly felt smaller. Quieter—like the chaos outside couldn’t reach in here.

“You came all this way just to accuse me?” he asked lightly, shoving his hands into his pockets, chin tilted in quiet arrogance. “That’s brave.”

You didn’t answer right away. Instead, you stepped closer. “If it wasn’t you,” you said, voice steady, “you wouldn’t be sitting here so calm.”

A corner of his mouth lifted. He didn’t move when you closed the distance. If anything, he seemed to like it.

“Why would I care?” he replied, crossing his arms with a slow breath, clicking his tongue. “It’s not my problem to begin with. You of all people should know that. Why would I admit to something I didn’t do?”

Motherfucker.

He did that on purpose. The taunting smile gave him away—he was lying, at least about that part.

Silence stretched between you, thick and deliberate.

“You like watching people tear each other apart,” you said. “You don’t even bother hiding it.”

“Ah, ah. You’re wrong,” he chuckled. “I like patterns.”

His gaze dropped to your clenched fists, then rose again—lingering on your lips before meeting your eyes.

“And you,” he continued softly, “don’t fit.”

Your jaw tightened. You ignored the way his eyes kept drifting back to your mouth.  “That’s not a compliment.”

He laughed under his breath. “Good. I didn’t mean it as one.”

Your phone buzzed between you. You didn’t need to look.

Jeonghan did.

His expression didn’t change, but something sharp flashed in his eyes.

“…Interesting,” he murmured.

You broke the stare. “What did you post?”

“Nothing,” he replied easily, shrugging.

You let out a breathless laugh. The audacity—lying to your face, not once, but twice. “Liar.”

He leaned in just enough for his voice to drop.

“Welcome to the game,” Jeonghan whispered. “You already started playing.”

Neither of you moved away.

Jeonghan studied you like he was memorizing every detail.

“Do you know why this works?” he asked suddenly.

You frowned. “What.”

“The blog.” He gestured vaguely, as if the campus itself were his experiment. “Because no one ever checks facts. They check reactions.”

Your nails dug into your palm. “So you admit it.”

He smiled. “I admit people are predictable. Not the posts themselves.”

You scoffed. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I enjoy patterns,” he repeated. “And disruptions.”

His gaze returned to you.

“And therefore, my dear,” he added softly, “you are the disruption.”

You bristled. “I didn’t ask to be involved.”

“No,” he agreed. “That’s usually the best part.”

Your phone buzzed again but you didn’t even bother to look at it.

Jeonghan did—and this time, he chuckled.

“They’re already arguing in the comments,” he said. “Defending you. Attacking you. Projecting.”

He leaned closer, his voice low. “Do you know how rare it is to be hated and defended at the same time?”

Your chest tightened. You loathed this man. “What do you want from me?”

He straightened, lips curling into a lazy smile. “For now? Nothing.”

That was worse.

“But eventually,” he continued, “you’ll react. Everyone does.”

You met his gaze. “What if I don’t?”

His smile sharpened—pleased.

“Then,” he said softly, “you’ll be very interesting.”

You frowned, unease crawling up your spine. You hated the way he spoke like he already knew you.

He noticed it. The crease between your brows. The tension in your eyes, burning with rage and disgust.

Maybe he really was twisted.

Because he loved it.

“Don’t frown too much,” he said lightly, stepping back just enough, his eyes roaming shamelessly from head to toe. “A smile would look much nicer on you. Don’t you think, sweetheart?”

God, you hated it when he called you that.

His gaze lingered—bold, unapologetic before lifting back to your face, that infuriating grin still there.

“…A pretty girl,” he murmured, slow and deliberate, “with a pretty face and body.”

Something about the way his eyes sharpened made your stomach twist.

No one knew about your side hustle.

Not even your friends.

And deep down, you knew one thing for sure—

Yoon Jeonghan was not a man you could deal with easily.

𖹭 and that's all for the preview! lmk what are your thoughts on it. the girls are fighthingggg grahhhh i love unhinged drama sm (not irl though) also a/n: cyberbullying was never okay, so if you feel uncomfortable with the fighthing scene, please do take care of yourself, all of these are fake scenarios.

[peachglazed]

got super lucky and happened upon this prev (i’m clearly the universe’s fav) && i’m hooked already!!!! hello??? 95 liner MEAN GIRLS AU😭😭😭😭😭😭💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💓

okay i NEED to know the origins of the “maneater” & “boy toys” rumors and truly just ocs lore in general bc the line “do you know how rare it is to be hated and defended at the same time?” made me go 🌝

and i can’t wait to see the 95’ trio dynamic (idk why but I picture shua as a more devious karen smith)

i’m so looking forward to this story